34. Chapter 34 #2
Things between Oliver and me hadn’t gotten any better; in fact, we hadn’t spoken since that day, even after I was out all night and returned home early the next morning. It was as if he didn’t notice.
He had been taking Theo to school in the mornings and tucking him into bed at night, but then he locked himself in his office…just like before, and Theo had been visiting Macy, LJ and Leo in between, from the moment I picked him up from school until just before his bedtime.
To get around, I started using the car I was provided with when I started this job; it made things a lot easier, but I did miss the walks.
I’m aware it’s going to be my responsibility to make the first move, as Oliver has locked himself up tighter than a bank safe, but I was still hurt, mad at him for yelling at me and deflated that he’s reverted to treating me like nothing.
“I don’t know, all I know is I was seconds away from punching her in her perfectly sculpted chin.
I don’t know what she did to Oliver when Theo and I left, but she’s made him worse.
” I groan, shaking my head, looking over my shoulder where I could see Theo playing Mario Kart with LJ, who had been doing a great job keeping Theo busy, so I could have much-needed girl time, most of this week.
“Things still tense between you guys?” Macy asks, giving me a sympathetic look.
“Yeah. He still hasn’t spoken to me; he won’t be in the same room as me for more than a second, but whether he likes it or not, we’re going to have to talk when Theo and I get home - we have to.
Because he’ll be leaving for another Pro-Bono case on Friday.
” I explain, Macy and Gran knew everything now, including what Oliver did when he went abroad.
“He’s a stubborn asshole, but from what you’ve told me about his monster of a mother, I think he has wounds, even if you can’t heal Lu… he could end up breaking you instead,” Macy points out softly, voicing something she’d clearly been wanting to say for a while now.
“What do you mean?” I ask, adjusting her newborn in my arms.
“I mean, that you can’t go on like this, with him treating you like you don’t exist. You’re a person, and he should treat you like one. You’re fighting a two-person battle all on your own, and if he doesn’t give you something soon, you’re going to hit your breaking point.”
She pauses to lean over and squeeze my hand.
“Once you hit that, it’ll be hard for you to bounce back,” she finishes gently.
“I know.” I nod, though I hate to do it, and I agree with her. Macy was never wrong about these things. As we turn to Gran, who was far too quiet during this conversation, which was never a good thing.
“What’s going on in that head of yours, Granny Mags?” Macy asks,
“You said Oliver was thirty-one?” Gran questions.
“Thirty-two, why?” I reply as she nods, and we watch her stroke her chin.
“That would mean he was born a few months after her television show, She’s On The Move, aired. If I remember correctly, the first few episodes started in London, then Spain and so on.” Gran explains, but Macy and I are still confused.
“What does that have to do with anything?” I ask, raising my eyebrow at her.
“If that’s true, that means that all that time she travelled the world, she must have taken Oliver along with her.” Gran states, frowning in disappointment.
Pausing to shake her head in disapproval.
“Meaning that the poor child never grew up with the sense of stability he needed. Children need structure and consistency. They don’t cope well without it, especially after becoming adults; they end up with complexes, issues, etc.,” she adds when Macy and I shake off her crazy theory.
“Gran, don’t be sil-”
“I went to schools all over the world. My mother never allowed us to stay anywhere longer than 3 months exc-” - Oh my god.
“I’m right, aren’t I?” Gran nods, clapping her hands together, proud that she figured it out. Whereas I was so confident I had all the pieces to the puzzle, that I knew why Oliver changed the moment, but I was wrong.
It was so much more than that; there was still so much I didn’t know, but this revelation alone shows that he’s holding on to years of unresolved childhood trauma and resentment.
This ran deeper than I realised.
Everything down to Oliver’s inability to express his emotions, his shut-downs and why he hates the world and keeps his small group of people so close to his chest gave me a whole new perspective.
It’s then I remember that Oliver frayed from me once, but he came back.
That means he could make his way back to me again, open up - I just had to be patient.
With a sudden spring in my step, I pulled myself to my feet, handing baby Leo back to Macy and jogging over to Theo, grabbing his bag and making a beeline to the front door.
It was approaching Theo’s bedtime anyway, only now I was more determined to get through to Oliver before he left in the morning.
****
After we reached home, and Oliver was putting Theo to bed, I made sure to wait outside his office to stop him from running away. Giving myself time to figure out exactly what I was going to say.
When I heard his footsteps making their way down the stairs. They made their way through the living room when he looked at me for the first time since Sunday. His stare was blank, lifeless, but at least he was looking at me,
“I-are you ready to talk?” I ask, giving him a ledge which he refused to grab.
“No,” he grumbles, without another thought, reaching for the doorknob, but I step in his way.
“That’s fine, and I’ve realised your mother isn’t a subject you’re ready to talk about, but can you at least just go back to talking to me about the normal stuff?” I ask, tilting my head.
“At least ask me how Theo’s food chart is going or how my day was?” I add, but there’s no change in his facial expression, so I keep going.
“You’re flying out tomorrow after you drop Theo off at school, fair enough; you don’t have to touch me or do any of the other stuff, but you at least have to say something to me.
I know you’re hurting right now, but you don’t have to treat me like I’m invisible because I know we’re long past that,” I recite softly.
He sighs as if he’s listening, giving me an inch of hope.
But nothing comes, not even a single word; the two of us are standing there, two and a half minutes of stone-cold silence.
“Oliver, please. Just say something, do something. I haven’t done anything wrong, and I know this isn’t you.” I plead, letting my anger get the better of me and poke my finger at him.
When suddenly it feels like my short temper works in my favour because Oliver steps forward and grabs me by the waist, I can’t help but smile and lift my legs to wrap them around his waist, but they don’t quite make it.
“Move,” he rasps out, moving me out of the way. Once I’m back on the ground, he escapes into his office and closes the door without looking back.
I pound on the door the moment I hear it lock.
“Oliver Walters, you open this bloody door right now,” I demand, but nothing on his end, not even after banging on it a few more times. I put my ear to the door, but don’t hear a single rustle of paper.
“Fine, you selfish, Surly Bastard,” I yell, giving the door a good kick. Again, I hope it’s enough to lure him out - it’s not. I rest my forehead against the door in defeat, my options quickly declining, and all I have left are my words.
“Okay, Oliver, this is the last thing I’m going to say, so make sure you’re listening,” I start, knocking on the door. “I understand you’re going through something, and believe me, I’ve tried to be considerate in giving you space, but I’m reaching my limit-”
I pause to collect myself.
“You have till the day you return from your trip to talk to me because I can’t keep doing this; it’s driving me crazy because I care about you.
So I can give you a few more days, but if I don’t hear anything from you by then…
let’s just say you’ll get your wish and it’ll be quiet on both ends.
” I mumble in defeat, lingering there in hopes he comes out.
But when I’m met with familiar silence, I leave him be and go upstairs where I organise my room for a while, as a distraction before eventually sliding into bed.
The next morning, I’m helping Theo into his shoes as he’s all ready for school.
Oliver is in the kitchen, hoping to at least catch a glimpse of him before he heads to Seattle, when Theo panics, unable to find his backpack, and I remember him taking it upstairs at some point after we got home yesterday.
Since he already has his shoes on, I jog upstairs to find it for him.
I have a look around his room, on his bed, by his toy box and even under his Super Mario Star rug, all the places I’ve found it in the past when I hear Theo yell “Luna, I found it.” pulling myself off the floor I head back downstairs, when I hear the front door open and close while I’m strolling down the hallway.
My heart drops, and I take off, flying down the stairs as quickly as possible, losing a slipper as I go, but by the time I reach the door and rip it open, Oliver’s car is already zooming down the road.
Without getting to say goodbye to Theo…or Oliver, and my inability to outrun a car.
My lungs scream for air, my throat burns with emotion, and I crumble to the floor, sobbing on the floorboards.
One hand still clinging to the doorknob and the other fisted against my heart as I try to tap the ache in my chest away.
H-how could he just… he didn’t even say goodbye.