Chapter 32 #2
And yet, the knot in my stomach is more pain than anger, more upset than fury.
Maybe that’s because it’s not only me she’s treating as an irrelevant irritation, it’s Oliver. She makes it sound like she’d love to get rid of him too, but she can’t because she, unfortunately, gave birth to him.
He absolutely does not deserve that.
Not only is he her son, for fuck’s sake, he’s a better person than she has any hope of even dreaming of being.
A chill settles inside me with the realization of what I have to do.
The only way to get this to stop right now, the only way for me to protect him from being treated like this for the four-thousandth time, is for me to do what his mother says and leave.
I might not have been here all the other times he’s been through things like this, but I’m here now. And this is something I can do for him.
If I’m gone, things will be better for him. Still not great, but definitely not as bad as if he’s associated with this worthless American.
“Get rid of her?” Oliver’s entire body tenses, and I can feel his heart rate rise.
“Well, she certainly can’t come to the wedding,” his mother says.
Giles tuts and shakes his head, agreeing that no such outrage could ever be permitted.
“It’s okay.” The lump in my throat burns when I try to speak through it. I drag my arms from around Oliver’s waist and rise to my tiptoes to kiss his cheek. “I’ll go home.”
Like they’re both connected to the same switch that’s just been flipped, Giles and Oliver’s mother let out simultaneous exhales. And smiles pop onto their supercilious faces.
As I step away, Oliver catches my hand and pulls me back. “Absolutely not.” Then looks at his mother and Giles. “If Lexi’s not going to the wedding, neither am I.”
I pat him on the chest. “It’s okay. It’s totally fine. I’m obviously the problem here. If you don’t go, there’ll be even more bullshit in the media about you shunning your family. But if I leave, everything can get back to normal.”
“Let the girl go.” His mother heads back toward the door, clearly considering this a job well done. “It’s not like there’s any future in it anyway.”
“No future?” Oliver’s voice is raised. “You’re talking about the woman I love.”
His mother spins on the spot like she’s a furious lazy Susan, her face changing from its usual pallor to flaming crimson before my eyes.
Giles shrieks, “What?”
I struggle to not do the same as my stomach lurches upward and crashes into my heart in a collision that rattles my rib cage.
Oh…
Oliver’s talking about the fake relationship.
I blow out a breath.
I’d almost forgotten about that.
Maybe I should join in and lay it on thick, exactly like we were doing before we crossed the line from pretense to naked.
“Honestly, babe.” I hook one hand over his shoulder, and he looks down at me as I rub his bare chest with the other. “It’s totally fine. I love you too. But it’s best for now that I go. You’ll be back home in a week.”
There’s a flicker in his eyes when I say I love you too that matches the one in my heart.
“You can not possibly be in love.” His mother spits out the last two words.
“Whyever not?” Oliver asks. “You know nothing about our relationship.”
“I know you’ve only known each other five minutes.”
“You have absolutely no idea how long we’ve known each other.”
“Well, the first time anyone saw her at your apartment was barely a week ago.” The instant the words are out of her mouth she half closes her eyes, realizing what she’s said.
Oliver lets me go and steps toward her. “Are you spying on me? Is it you who bu—”
I yank his arm to prevent him from spilling that we know about the bug. It’s better to keep our knowledge of it a secret for now.
“Sweetie, it’s fine,” I say. “I’m going to pack.”
But also, seriously, they have someone following him in New York? This family is tragically fucked up.
“Not spying,” Giles says. “More monitoring for security reasons.”
“Well, you can tell your security monitors to fuck right off.” Oliver is now so close to Giles that his furious spit must be landing on his face. “It’s a long time since I have been any of your business.”
Oliver turns and walks around to the other side of the bed as if to put as much distance between himself and them as possible.
“And you all wonder why I moved away.” He shakes his head and pushes his hands through his hair, the action flexing his forearms and biceps—which is not something I should be focusing on right now.
If this is what his mother and Giles react like over a couple of spring break pictures of someone only vaguely associated with their family, what the hell will they be like when the book comes out, spilling stories about them?
I grab my suitcase from next to the desk and swing it onto the bed. There’s already a panic about losing a week working on the book in the pit of my stomach, but we’ll have to make the best of talking on the phone till he’s back in New York.
“Hey, Lexi.” Sofia appears in the doorway and looks around the room. “Oh. Hi…um…everyone.”
“Please, don’t you start too.” Oliver sits on the edge of the bed and buries his face in his hands, his wide back spreading between his slumped shoulders.
“Start?” Sofia looks puzzled. “Lexi, I saw some photos of an actress wearing this dress and now I know what amazing boobs you have, you’re the only one who could pull it off, and it would be perfect for the wedding.”
Oliver looks up from behind his hands. “You’ve seen the article?”
“Yeah,” Sofia says with a whatever tone.
“And you don’t care?” their mother says as if Sofia’s dismissed the end of the British Empire as an insignificant blip on the radar of history.
Sofia shrugs. “Same old, same old. The usual shits saying the usual shitty things.” She crosses the room toward me, holding out her phone. “Look. Isn’t the shape of it gorgeous? And the burgundy would be perfect with your coloring.”
While utterly unimportant in the current circumstances, it is a stunningly cool yet classy dress.
“Honestly, this generation.” Oliver’s mother sniffs. “Your bar for shame is tragically low.” She turns on her heels and click-clacks out of the room.
Giles scurries after her, muttering things in agreement that include the words “decorum” and “standards.”
“I’ll get the stylist to bring it as one of your choices for the day,” Sofia says before leaning in.
“Ignore them. And ignore the press. It’s the only way to stay sane.
” She heads for the door too, turning around just before she reaches it.
“Seriously. Great boobs.” Then she smiles and disappears, closing the door behind her.
I take a deep breath, my heart rate slowly returning to something that might not register as imminent danger on one of those hospital beeping machines.
My phone vibrates on the bed with a new email—probably the first of many, given the circumstances.
It’s a message from Mom.
We saw the pictures. No wonder you slept for almost 24hrs straight when you got back from that Florida trip! Just kidding, we’re ignoring it all like you said. We just hope you’re ok and it hasn’t upset you too much. Love, Mom & Dad.
Phew. I wasn’t looking forward to explaining any of that to them. I’ll reply later.
Oliver sprawls back on the bed, and I crawl across it to kneel beside him.
“Fuck, I am so, so sorry.” I can’t help but trace the outline of his abs as I talk.
“None of it is your fault.” He reaches up to stroke my arm.
“Not one single jot of it. This is all because of me. I always knew something like this would happen. It’s exactly why I tried to stop you coming with me.
Giving in was selfish, because I knew I’d like being around you for a couple of weeks.
I should have been stronger and thrown you off that plane. ”
Oh my God, the things this man has been through in his life and put up with and tolerated and soldiered on, and he thinks he’s weak?
“Don’t blame yourself. And you are strong. You just stood up to those two,” I say.
“Only because I was fighting for you.” He pulls me down onto his bare chest. “I wouldn’t have bothered if it had been only me. But I still didn’t win, did I? It was Sofia who swooped in and saved the day. If it had been left to my weak arse, you’d be halfway to the airport by now.”
“No, no, no. You paved the way. You’d already done the groundwork when Sofia showed up.” I draw a finger along his cheekbone. “And it was a quick-thinking move to lay the pretense on thick with the I love you.”
“What?” His brow pinches, like he can’t remember saying it.
Now I regret mentioning it, because it’ll be awkward and embarrassing if I have to remind him.
“Oh, right.” Realization crosses his face. “It just kind of came out. Naturally.” He swallows hard. “But yeah, that’s exactly what it was. The pretense.”
Then he pulls my face down to meet his.
And kisses me.
It’s tender and deep and real.