Chapter Nine
Abbey
The light streamed through the curtains and the fluttering breeze made them dance. I was dreaming of the island. I was sweating from the heat and his warmth was behind me, his arm wrapped tightly around my waist. I brushed my hand along the hair of his forearms.
As I reached down for his hand, I realised I still had my jeans on in this dream.
Weird that they were exactly the same jeans I wore yesterday.
I was also wearing my fuzzy black jumper, which probably explained why I was so fucking hot.
I pulled my damp hair off the back of my neck and wrestled myself out of my jumper.
My tongue was stuck to the roof of my mouth, and I reached out for a glass of water and then it dawned on me. Oh, Jesus Christ. This is not a dream.
At least I wasn’t naked. I did not completely capitulate to him after he apologised.
The day before comes flooding back. The double date set up by my grandmother. Me seeing him and trying to get Kate to turn around and leave. Him engulfing me in a hug that I did not want, but could not seem to move out of. His apology.
After that there was alcohol (a lot), food (I insisted on paying for everything and he let me) and some bloke on a guitar, who did marvellous renditions of Oasis and Mumford and Sons’ songs.
I am almost certain I danced and sang to Ed Sheeran.
I am almost certain that Kate and Ollie made out with each other, before both making out with other people.
Nick and I did not kiss. We were just attached, connected.
If I moved, he moved with me. We danced and sang, and then we piled into a taxi and came back here.
Ollie was asleep on my couch before we went to bed. Kate crawled to her bedroom as we came in. I marched Nick to the kitchen, put two ibuprofen into his hand and made him drink a glass of water before pulling him into my room.
‘Do you forgive me?’ he whispered into the dark.
‘You are a fucking walking red flag,’ I replied.
He took a huge, shuddering breath. ‘You make me want to break all my rules.’
‘The thing about it, Nick, is that you don’t seem to understand that you are the risk and not me.’
‘That’s because you undervalue yourself.’
‘So do you.’
I closed my eyes, he closed his … and here we were.
***
They left after a surprisingly un-awkward coffee and toast, Kate and I both heading back to bed for a bit.
Monday brought my first day at work without him, and it was odd not to be constantly aware of his presence in the office. Oliver and I were busy that week with a couple of high-end meetings, along with the preparation for his business trip, but I missed Nick.
He messaged me every day, checking in, making sure we were both okay. Actually, his messages gave off not even remotely hidden, completely out of control parental-anxiety vibes – and they came thick and fast on the Monday.
How’s he going?
Make sure he remembers to eat.
Let me know how the sponsorship meeting goes at 9. Remind him to sell the benefits of our international chain too. It’s going to be a big factor for the corporate travel market.
There were at least three more messages like this before I phoned him at eleven.
‘Is everything okay, Abs? What’s he done …?’
‘Nick, you need to calm the fuck down. You are driving me nuts and it is making me anxious,’ I whispered.
He surprised me by laughing. ‘I’ll admit it is actually killing me not being there.’
‘You don’t say.’
‘All right, all right. I take your point. I’ll go …’
‘Get a life? Stop hanging around your multi-million-dollar penthouse being a total loser?’ I suggested.
‘Yes. Both of those things.’ I could hear his smile and imagined his eyes crinkling, which made my stomach flip. ‘Thanks, Abbey.’
On Wednesday night, he rang me at six. We spoke on the phone until my battery ran out a couple of hours later.
The conversation was mostly about work, but it flowed easily as he filled me in on what he had been doing the last few days, playing tourist in Sydney.
He sounded so happy and relaxed, and I wished he was in front of me so I could see it.
On Friday, I’d planned Oliver’s last meeting to finish at eleven so I could get him to the airport, in a car, for his flight to Brisbane at one. The two senior EAs I’d sorted to assist him were already up to speed, with very strict instructions on how to best support him.
The meeting with Mike and the finance team finished on time.
I’d had a running text commentary from Mike throughout, letting me know he was feeling serious, serious heat for the new CEO.
He wasn’t the only staff member to notice Oliver’s appeal, not by a long way.
Women were fanning themselves in lifts and offices, and he had groupies everywhere, several of them unnecessarily making their way to the top floor in the lift to catch a glimpse of their new, hot, single boss.
Oliver had been a tremendous success in week one of flying solo. I picked up my phone to text Nick, but then had the thought that I might call him that afternoon instead, or maybe even catch him for a drink the next day.
Oliver came out of his office after sending a few emails and asked me to walk with him downstairs to the car. I took his laptop bag, leaving him free to carry his luggage. He stopped several times to say hello to some employees whose names he had memorised.
When we were in the lift, he looked at me directly. ‘Why are you smiling at me?’
‘I’m super proud of you this week. It was a fantastic start. I think you are going to be great at this, Ollie.’
He smiled a chuffed, dorky grin, and I could tell he was pleased with my praise. ‘Thanks, Abbey.’
‘Hmm …’
‘What?’
‘It just occurred to me that you set us up.’ His grin deepened. ‘On the holiday. Nick and me.’
He inclined his head, raising an eyebrow.
‘I’m amazed you didn’t realise that earlier.
You were both pathetically sad, but I also thought you were similar in ways.
There was certainly some manoeuvring to be done to get you both to the restaurant and especially to keep other couples off that bloody trip to the island.
You both insisted on not being around couples.
Weirdos. He is my brother and I love him.
But he needs someone like you in his life, Abbey.
The only person who doesn’t know that, is him. ’
I moved on from that, as it was stirring up feelings that I didn’t want churned up.
The lift doors opened, and we crossed the lobby.
I shielded my eyes against the sun as we walked out onto the busy city street.
His car was ahead, the driver waiting by the door to open it for him.
My phone vibrated in my hand and, seeing Nick’s name flash up with a message, I stepped back out of the sunlight to read it.
Oliver kept walking to the car. The driver opened the door, standing behind it.
A high-vis shirt caught my eye, and it seemed as if everything slowed down.
I saw the bike rider, who was wearing a black helmet and a lime-green high-vis jacket, jump up onto the curb to avoid a bus and then swerve to avoid the opening of Oliver’s car door.
As he did so he hit Oliver, careening into him at speed.
The cyclist flew off the bike through the air like an acrobat, with his head, protected by his helmet, clattering as he hit the footpath. But Ollie’s head wasn’t protected by anything, and he crumpled, after hitting it first on the open car door and then on the concrete path as he fell backward.
Fuck.
I ran forward, screaming at the driver to ring an ambulance, which, thank God, he was already doing.
I ripped off my navy-blue cardigan to stem the blood coming from Ollie’s head, applying pressure, and cradling him in my lap.
He was in and out of consciousness. At one point he looked me straight in the eye and called me, ‘Sad Abbey’.
It was clear his leg was also broken, given the weird angle it was at and the strange limpness of it.
I avoided looking at it, not wanting to add vomit to the mix.
Several pedestrians were assisting the cyclist. I sat there holding on to Oliver, feeling the urge to sob at how long it was taking for actual professionals to arrive and take over.
Minutes felt like hours. My heart was pounding in my chest. There was so much blood that my cardigan was wet, the little mother-of-pearl buttons red.
I became fixated on weird details, like the driver’s name being Keith and that Keith had a tattoo of a spider which appeared on his wrist every time his cuff rose.
It felt like a lifetime before I heard sirens and then the paramedics were there, taking him off me.
I wanted to ride in the ambulance, but they wouldn’t let me. So I grabbed our things and jumped in the back of the car, and Keith and I followed the ambulance to St Vincent’s.
I called Kate first, knowing she was in the emergency department. Then I called Nick.
He picked up on the second ring, as if he had been waiting for a call.
‘Abbey.’
I could not answer. I attempted to, but my voice choked, and he spoke again.
‘Abs, are you okay?’
‘Nick.’ His name came out in this strange, hoarse whisper. He was waiting for me to continue, but the emotion was still robbing my voice.
‘Abbey. What is it, sweetheart?’ His voice was so tender I felt my chest ache as my heart split.
‘Nick, it’s Oliver. He was in an accident. I think his leg is broken, and he hit his head.’ My voice cracked again as I choked on tears. ‘It’s really bad. I’m in a car behind an ambulance. They’re taking him to St Vincent’s Hospital.’
‘Ollie’s hurt?’ I could hear the emotion and panic in his voice. ‘Tell me you’re okay, Abbey,’ he demanded.
‘I’m fine, Nick. I’m okay.’
He took a deep breath. ‘I’ll meet you there.’