35. Lissa
Lissa
Henry decides he’d like a bath instead of a shower. I fill up the tub, making sure the water is warm but not too hot. We play a little game of Would You Rather while he’s soaping up.
“Would you rather have a pet dragon or a unicorn?” I ask.
“A dragon, of course, Mommy,” he responds. “They’re fierce and could protect us.”
My heart jumps. Does my little guy worry about protecting me?
“Would you rather eat ice cream for breakfast or pizza for dessert?” Henry asks.
“I’ve always liked ice cream at any time of day. Especially chocolate.”
Henry nods in agreement.
When he’s done with the bath, he tells me it helped his tummy hurt less, and that makes me smile and be grateful that we’re here.
Oliver knocks on the bedroom door after we’re done, and when he comes in, he finds Henry on the floor, pulling a book out of a huge mahogany bookcase.
“Look at this one, Mommy!” He holds up The Velveteen Rabbit.
“Oh, I love that book. My mom used to read that to me.” I can almost see my mom’s sweet face while she tucked me in and then curled up with me, ready to read me a book.
“I’m glad you found that, Henry,” Oliver says. “I have a little collection of kids’ books there, actually. Books that my mom used to read to me and others I’ve found over the years.”
I walk over and lean down, looking at the titles of the books. There are lots of them I recognize and some I’ve never heard of. They all seem to be in perfect shape.
“How many books are there?” I ask.
“Oh, maybe a couple hundred. It was a bit of an obsession for a while.”
“A couple hundred!?” Henry says, unable to contain his excitement. He loves reading and always wants to drag me to the library for more books.
“Yes. You’re welcome to borrow some if you’d like, Henry. Just be extra careful with them. Some of them are first editions.”
“Ohhh, that might not be a good idea,” I say quickly. “I’d hate for us to mess one up.”
Henry gives me a little sad face.
“No, that’s totally fine. Books are meant to be enjoyed. Just think of it as your own private library, Henry. Take some, and when you’re done with them, just bring them back, and you can take more.”
Henry’s face lights up, and I can’t help but giggle. He spends the next fifteen minutes picking out the books he wants while I change and take my makeup off in the bathroom.
Oliver has left me some pajama pants that are far too big, but I tie them tightly around my waist and roll the legs up. He’s also left me a soft, black T-shirt that smells like him. It almost swallows me whole, but I don’t care. At this point in the night, I just want to be comfy.
When I come back into the bedroom, Henry is lying on the big bed with Truman curled up beside him.
There’s a small stack of his chosen books on the nightstand.
He looks absolutely exhausted, his eyes already starting to close.
I know he had dinner with Bethany, and I decide the best thing for him right now is sleep.
I can hear the clink of cutlery in the kitchen, and I go over to Henry, pulling the covers up as Truman comes to sniff at my hand.
“You okay, sweetie?” I ask. “Are you comfortable?”
He nods, his eyes already drooping as he snuggles into the enormous bed. “Can we stay here?” he asks.
“Yeah, baby, I think we’re going to stay here overnight so the storm can pass.”
“Okay. But can we stay here forever?”
My heart clenches, forgetting how quickly kids can get attached to things. He falls in love so fast.
“Just tonight, sweetie.”
“Is Oliver here?”
“Yeah. He’s in the kitchen, and I’m gonna go have some food with him, okay? But if you need me, you come and get me. You know where the kitchen is, right? Just down the hall.”
He nods, but he’s already falling asleep, and as his eyes close, I rise from the bed.
I stare at his sweet face, his little lips already parted in sleep, a healthy glow back in his face as I think about what we’ll have to face next. I take a deep breath, looking around the beautiful room.
It would be so easy to believe that this could be our life, that Oliver has invited me here for any reason other than guilt over what happened in the alleyway.
But I can’t afford to think like that. I owe it to Henry to be sensible and practical. There’s only so much I can allow myself to feel, and gratitude will have to be the peak of it.
I have no illusions about Oliver being anything other than temporary in my life, and if my heart has gotten confused, then it will have to get used to disappointment.
I pad out into the hallway, thick socks on my feet that are much too big, and as I walk into the kitchen, Oliver looks up, his eyes running over me, lips quirking. I must look like a clown in the clothes he's lent me, and they’re hanging off my body as I come to stand in front of him.
“Would you like a glass of wine?” he asks.
“Yes. Thank you.”
I watch him open a bottle of red, so confused about what all of this is between us. He pours two glasses and hands one to me, nodding toward the table where three places have been set.
“Henry’s asleep, I’m sorry.”
“Is he alright? Does he need anything?”
“No, he has everything he needs. He has Truman with him.”
“On the bed?” Oliver asks, sounding outraged.
I can’t help laughing at his scandalized expression. “Uh, yes, is that not okay?”
“That dog definitely knows how to get what he wants,” he says, and it’s so snippy it only makes me laugh more.
“You’re so strict with him.”
“He knows he’s not allowed on the beds,” Oliver says, shaking his head, but doesn’t make any move to go and get him, so we sit down at the table.
“Thank you so much for loaning us the books. Henry is thrilled, and he’s picked a few out.”
Oliver smiles at me. “I’m glad that made him happy. Poor little guy deserves some happiness right now.”
We sip our wine in silence for a moment.
“We can leave once the snow stops,” I say, voicing my fear that he's going to expect us to head home tonight.
“That’s nonsense. You’re sleeping here. As long as you’re comfortable. It makes no sense for you to go home tonight.”
He takes my plate to the oven and fills it with food. It definitely doesn’t look like the grab-and-go meals I have bought in the past. It’s fresh veggies and chicken with a sauce that smells delicious.
“Where do you get these from?” I ask.
“I order it in,” he says. “It’s from a Michelin-star chef.”
I stare at my food. “Oh my god, are you serious?”
“Yes,” he says, blinking at me. “I thought everybody did that…”
At his smirk, I roll my eyes, loving the fact that he’s teasing me. I had no idea he had that in him, and it’s throwing me off. Where’s the brooding, bossy man who barely speaks except to make me blush?
Oliver sips his wine, eating with neat little forkfuls of food. I expected him to devour it instantly, but he takes his time, chewing slowly after every bite.
“Adelaide tells me you had planned to study law,” he says, glancing at me over the rim of his glass.
“That’s true.”
“Why did you stop?”
“Well, I got pregnant with Henry.”
“Did James ask you to quit school?”
I nod. He watches me carefully for several seconds. “How long were you married?”
“Six years.”
“And he’s filed for divorce?”
“Yes. He was very angry that I didn’t tell him about Henry’s illness. I suppose he has every right to be.”
Oliver swallows, his jaw clenching. “Men like him don’t deserve any rights at all,” he mutters, his voice bitter and angry, and the atmosphere changes as I continue to eat my food, not knowing what to say.
As the silence stretches, my stomach begins to tie itself in knots, and I glance around the space looking for a new topic of conversation, but I draw a blank.
The surfaces are stripped bare, and there’s very little to comment on. I start to panic that things will only get more awkward, and we finish our food, every bite feeling endless.
Finally, Oliver puts his knife and fork together on his plate and sits back, looking far more relaxed than I feel.
Maybe I was overthinking it, and he just likes the silence.
“Would you like a tour?”
I brighten instantly. “I’d love one!”
He rises, takes my plate, and places it in the sink. Slowly, we move through the house together as Oliver shows me each room.
When we reach the living room, I’m astounded to find an entire cabinet filled with watches, as if taken straight from a jewelry store. There must be thirty in total, probably worth thousands each.
I walk along the line looking at them all.
“James always wanted that one,” I say. “He was into scuba diving, and apparently it’s one of the best for deep-sea swimming.”
“Over 300-meter water resistance. I wore it while cave diving once.”
“How many do you have?” I ask.
“Over a hundred, but these are my favorites. I love to collect them. Most people think I’m insane.”
“They’re beautiful, though.”
“It’s ridiculous to have more than one watch. I mean, I can only wear one at a time.”
“But that’s not really the point, is it?” I say with a smile. “It’s about the collection.”
He nods, his eyes darkening. “Exactly. I’ll continue buying them until I have all the limited editions.”
“I feel the same about shoes… I just can’t afford the ones I like.”
“Shoes?”
“Mm, Manolo’s specifically. I’ve always wanted to have a pair of those. But they’re crazy expensive.” I say.
“You like fashion then?”
“I love fashion. Bethany has about fifty pairs of Jimmy Choos, but she’s a size bigger than me, or I’d steal them all.
I’ve always wanted to go to Paris for Fashion Week.
I get totally obsessed around awards season, too, with all the dresses.
I spend hours scrolling through the outfits and critiquing them all like I’m not sitting on the couch in my jeans from Target. ”
He laughs. “Hm. We’re cut from the same cloth then, perhaps.”
“So, children’s books and watches… Do you collect anything else?” I ask.
“You’d be amazed. And probably appalled.”
“What’s your favorite collection?”
His eyes glint at me as he cocks his head to one side. “Will Henry be alright if we’re gone for just ten minutes? It’s not far.”
He doesn’t elaborate, but on the way to the stairs, I check in on Henry. Truman leaps up as he sees Oliver and scampers over to him, but Henry doesn’t stir at all. He’s fast asleep.
“We’re not going far, right?” I ask worriedly.
“It'll be ten minutes. I promise.”
We make our way downstairs all the way to the basement.
“What is this?” I ask as we step inside.
“It’s my parking garage.”
The level of luxury is amazing to me, and as we step into a private basement parking lot, my mouth falls open.
It is filled with cars. There must be twenty. Gleaming. Perfect. Most of them silver or black.
“This is by far my favorite collection,” Oliver admits. “Revolting, isn’t it?”
“Oh my god,” I say with a squeak in my voice. “This is crazy.”
“Abso-fucking-lutely, it is. But they’re beautiful, aren’t they?”
“Stunning,” I say as we walk toward them. The gleaming hoods reflect the lights back at me, glittering as we pass each one.
It’s breathtaking, and I can’t even imagine how much they cost.
“This is the one I use most often,” he says, moving to a black Porsche. As I stand in front of it, he moves behind me, his hands going around my waist, and I shudder in his arms as he rests his head on my shoulder. “I’d love to show you the back seat, but there isn’t one.”
I let out a laugh as he turns me around, smiling down at me.
“I’m not sure how you’re pulling off this look. Those pajama pants are ten times your size, but you still look so fucking beautiful.”
I give a nervous laugh and then gasp as he pushes me back, supporting my weight as I hit the hood of the car. He steps between my legs, unfastening the tie on my pants, his eyes filling with heat as he stares at me.
“I’ll be quick, I promise. But I really want to watch you come all over the hood of my favorite car.”
“Oliver, I can’t.” It kills me to say those words. “I need to be back in the house in case Henry needs me.”
“Of course, what am I thinking?” he says. “I’m glad you told me that. I always want you to speak up if you’re uncomfortable with any situation.”
I tie back my borrowed pants self-consciously and nod.
“Perhaps another time…” He takes my hand and leads me back into the house.
I try to stop thinking about how right this feels, how happy I am with him in his home, and how desperate I am to be near him.