Chapter 21 Olivia #3
“Oh my God!” I exclaim. “You’re the hiker who found me! Wow. I never imagined I’d meet you. Thank you. Thank you, so much. God knows how long I’d have been out there if your dog hadn’t found me. I’d have probably died.” I hold out my hand and the man, Kirk, shakes it, with a warm smile.
Jake is still frowning. “You carried Liv up the quarry path, through the woods and back to your car, all while she was naked?” Jake’s tone is accusatory.
It’s an uncharacteristic display of possessiveness — and one that inwardly thrills me, since it means Jake at least feels something.
Kirk lifts his hands, palms out, in defense. “Hey, man, I covered her with my hoodie. And,” he turns to me, “if it helps, that’s my husband over there.” He gestures with his thumb to a table where a handsome biracial guy in his forties is seated with another couple.
I laugh. “Thanks. I know you were only helping. It was above and beyond for a stranger.” I gesture to the pitcher. “You want a beer?” At his nod, I pour some of the frothy IPA into Kirk’s glass.
“I always wondered what happened to you. Why you were out there naked, with no belongings nearby and no car on the track,” Kirk says, taking a sip.
“It’s still a mystery.” I glance at Jake, whose eyes are wide. “I was in hospital for a while with some memory loss. But I’m fine now.”
“Honey, I’m just glad to have helped. And to see you reunited with your loved ones.” Kirk gives Jake a knowing look. He finishes his beer. “I’ll leave you guys to it. I’m glad you’re okay, Olivia. Have a great evening.” He pats Jake on the back and turns away.
“Thanks again, Kirk.”
Reunited with your loved ones. If only it were that simple.
“You okay?” Jake’s expression is quizzical.
“I’m fine.” I take a breath. “It was good to see the man who found me and be able to thank him. How do you know Kirk?”
“He’s a friend of Dad’s. Part of his running club. I don’t know him too well, just from a few family barbecues.”
“Huh. That’s weird. Ted isn’t in a running club in my world. He’s always playing golf with my dad.” Something new for my ‘different’ column. “Are you worried Kirk saw you here with me?” I ask bluntly.
The little line between Jake’s eyebrows, the one I’ve smoothed out with my thumb so many times, appears again.
“It’s probably fine. He knows I’m dating Savannah, but he’s only met her once. He’s not even close enough to Dad to mention it, I don’t think.”
“Good.”
But I can tell he’s uncomfortable, now that he has been recognized. He glances over at Kirk’s table, where both Kirk and his husband are looking at us.
Jake picks up his half glass of beer and lifts it to his lips. He finishes it in a few swallows. Pulling out his wallet, he takes out a twenty, leaving it on the check tray. “You wanna head out?”
I don’t want to head out, no.
“I need to get changed so bad,” he adds. “I don’t seem to be getting any drier in this sweaty place.”
I have no option but to agree. Even though I want to stay in this bar with Jake forever.
Or at least, for another couple of drinks.
I want so much to place my hand on his knee, laugh about something like we always do.
To lean in for a kiss and run my hand through the short, damp spikes of hair above his neck.
For us to stroll home to our sweet little house and make love under the new, soft, bamboo sheets I picked out just weeks ago.
To wake up with him tomorrow, spooning in bed, the sun streaming onto our naked bodies through white muslin curtains.
Then drive to the Beach House for a lazy brunch, and lie on the sand with a book while Jake surfs.
I want to marry him, next month, in front of all our friends and family.
Honeymoon with him in Cambodia, Vietnam, and Thailand.
Begin the next big adventure of our lives with him. To be with him. Always.
That’s what I want.
“Sure,” I reply instead, finishing my own beer, determined not to let my face crumple in front of him. Sucking in a breath, I stand, my feet squelching unpleasantly in the wet leather of my sandals.
Jake pulls out his phone to send a quick text, and I have to turn away. I know who that message is going to.
I wave farewell to Kirk, who salutes back with a grin, as we head out into the night.
The rain has stopped but everything is dripping, and the humidity isn’t entirely gone.
A strong scent of petrichor from the parking lot concrete engulfs me.
It takes me back to our rainy senior prom night when Jake, in his ill-fitting tux, had told me ‘petrichor’ was his favorite word and I pretended I knew what it meant. I looked it up the next day.
So many memories. Memories the Jake unlocking his bike beside me will never know. This Jake never even went to prom.
It’s dark enough that Jake doesn’t see the tear sliding down my cheek as we ride back over the creek toward our homes. At the gate to Landfall, we stop a moment, and I wipe my face clear of moisture.
“This is me. Thanks for tonight. I’m glad we were able to do it.”
Jake smiles at me under the glow of a street lamp. “Me too. It meant a lot to talk this stuff through.” He pauses, pushing his lips together, and gives me a sad smile. “I’ll see you soon, Liv.”
He rides off, his strong physique making short work of the stretch of main road toward the bridge to the barrier islands.
Will I see him again? Or does Jake now have the closure he was looking for?
One thing is clear, though. He’s not breaking up with Savannah any time soon.