Chapter 27
Chapter Twenty-Seven
Devin
“You okay?” Oliver slips his hand into mine, but I can’t even feel it. My body is numb as we walk up to the resort’s entrance.
My tongue is heavy, and each step ties another knot in my stomach. “Yeah.”
Am I? Or was this a horrible, catastrophic idea?
I told my family that I’m bringing “the guy I’m dating” and left it at that. Didn’t answer any questions, didn’t provide any details. Now here we are, about to meet them in the resort’s lobby, and I’m swaying on my feet, clutching Oliver’s hand for dear life.
“I’ll be okay,” he says, and I hate that he’s the one comforting me. This was all my idea. I’m the one who encouraged him to go along with it.
My response isn’t much more than a terrified titter. Oliver opens the door for me, and there they are, right past the long front desk and standing under a mounted elk head. My family.
All four are staring at me and Oliver with slack jaws and wide eyes, their gazes hot tethers that pull us across the shiny wooden floor to them.
“Hi,” I say, that nervous squeak still there.
My mom’s eyebrows knit together in confusion, like she’s trying to understand what she’s seeing. My dad looks shocked, Henry looks amused, and Jemma…
She’s red as a fire hydrant.
An impulse suddenly hits: that of fleeing the lobby, running back outside with Oliver and ordering a car to take us to a different resort where we can spend the trip alone, doing as we please without anyone judging us.
I did this for a reason, though. I brought Oliver because as uncomfortable as the band-aid rip off is, it’s better than spending the rest of my life knowing that my family hates Oliver.
“You all remember Oliver?” I ask, the unnecessary question only voiced because the silence needs to be filled.
My mom crosses her arms. “Yep,” she snaps.
“Hello.” Oliver nods at them all, respectful despite the cold reception. “It’s good to see you again.”
“Hey, man.” Henry comes in for a handshake and a hug, and my dad follows his lead. I sigh in relief. That’s two people who are at least trying.
My mom and Jemma have their backs turned to Oliver, heads bowed together as they whisper. It’s like old times, but worse. Now they aren’t even acknowledging Oliver’s existence.
Jemma snaps her head up, frown pointed at me. “Can I talk to you?”
I hesitate, not wanting to leave Oliver alone with the others. He gives me an encouraging nod, though, despite the worry in his eyes, and I slowly withdraw my hand from his. “Be right back.”
Jemma leads me to the other side of the massive staircase, her boots clicking against the polished floor. When we’re out of earshot, she wheels on me.
“What the actual fuck, Devin? Have you lost your mind? Why is he here?” She clutches her forehead. “I knew you were keeping something from me, I knew it. You’ve hardly been answering your phone, and—”
“He’s different now, Jem.”
She drops her arms at her sides, limp as a puppet. “Different?”
“Yes. He—”
“Do you hear yourself?” Her eyes narrow in concern.
“Yes.” I swallow hard. “I do. We’ve been slowly getting to know each other again since he moved to Pine Island—”
“For you?”
“What?” I laugh. “No. For his new job. He didn’t even know I was there.”
“Right.” She crosses her arms tightly. “So he’s not stalking you?”
“Why would he do that? We hadn’t spoken in years.” I wave the topic away. We’re getting too far off track. “He’s grown a lot, okay? And so have I. And I didn’t tell you about this before because I knew you would freak out.”
“So you thought the better option was to surprise us with him?”
I press my lips together, no longer believing I picked the right option. I thought my family would only take a minute or two to see the light, but Jemma still looks like she wants to kill Oliver.
Jemma sighs. “People don’t change, Devin.”
I stiffen. “People who believe that never change.”
We stare at each other, a standoff that stretches on. From across the lobby, I can hear Henry laughing at something, the sound jarring against the tension crackling between us. I don’t have time for it. I dragged Oliver here, and I need to stay at his side, not throw him to the wolves.
“I know you don’t like him.” I soften my tone. “Can you just promise me that you’ll at least try to get to know him?”
“The new Oliver?” There’s no mockery there. Only a quiet resignation.
“Yes.” I gently grasp her arms. “Please.”
She nods. “For you.”
“Thank you,” I whisper.
We rejoin the others, where it seems nothing has changed. Oliver still looks like he wants to crawl out of his skin, while my mom is glowering. At least Henry and my dad are still being social, even if they’re hiding their true feelings—which I suspect they are.
“Oliver told us he’s learning how to cook!” Henry beams.
“I’m doing my best.” Oliver shrugs a shoulder and looks me over. Are you okay?
I give him a quick smile and a nod of my head. I’ll be all right. I’m more concerned about him. Maybe it was unfair to even ask him to come here in the first place.
“He’s going to cook us all dinner tonight,” my dad says.
“It seemed like a good idea, since our suite has a kitchen.” Oliver musters up a smile. “What do you think?” He asks me.
“That’s great.” I sound way too thrilled, like I’m trying to get a group of kindergartners to be excited about math.
Henry checks his watch. “We should probably go shopping for the ingredients now. It’s getting late.”
“Of course.” I nod eagerly, happy to have a task to throw myself into.
“It’s okay, hon.” My dad claps my shoulder. “The three of us guys will go. Make a dude trip. You ladies catch up.”
Oh. So they want to get Oliver alone and… what? Have some kind of talk with him?
He doesn’t look concerned about it, so I decide not to be either.
He leaves me with a hug and a quick kiss, the animosity from my mom and sister boring holes into my back.
Taking Oliver’s suitcase along with mine, I check in at the front desk then follow the hallway to our suite, my mom and Jemma hot on my heels.
“Honestly, Devin…” Mom sighs.
“It was years ago, Mom.” How many times this week will I need to say that? “Things have changed.”
“Since when does he cook?” Jemma asks.
I ignore the question as I use the keycard to open the suite’s door.
The room is decorated in warm tones like the rest of the lodge, a small living area giving way to a bedroom on one side and a kitchen on the other.
It cost more than I’ve ever spent on lodgings, but having what feels like our own apartment is worth it.
If things go south with my family, I want a little sanctuary for me and Oliver to slip away to.
Jemma follows me to the bedroom, where I park the suitcases. Her footsteps are deliberate, each one building toward whatever she’s about to say.
“Remember when you two moved to the city? And he had that bad week of practices, so you cooked him all of his favorite foods, but all he did was get pouty and refuse to eat them?” She scoffs. “He said he wasn’t hungry.”
I freeze, the memory one I haven’t accessed in years. The move had been stressful for Oliver. It was his first time on a pro team, and he’d thrown himself into the next-level practices like his life depended on it. The overwhelming changes made him withdrawn and sullen, with nothing I did helping.
I occupy myself with unpacking my toiletries, setting them on the bathroom counter with more care than necessary. “That was years ago.”
“And?” Jemma presses.
Good question. Oliver has grown in a lot of ways, but how does he deal with major life changes? His first practice at the high school caused a panic attack.
What will happen if and when we move in together? Or get married?
Even if he wants those things, what if he can’t handle the stress that comes along with them? He could do so much more than have a panic attack. He could push me away. Completely shut down.
I can’t go through that again. Being shoved to the side, ignored… it’s worse than anything else.
I slam my toothbrush on the counter. Enough. I’m spiraling. Jemma’s getting in my head just as I knew she would. “Let’s go to the resort store. I forgot to pack gloves.”
Jemma sighs. “Fine,” she mutters.
We collect my mom, who’s sitting on the couch on her phone looking resigned to the fact that I’m ruining my life, and weave our way to the other end of the resort. Jemma’s unwelcome words spin circles through my mind, but I keep pushing them to the side.
That was then. This is now. Oliver and I have a chance at a real life together, but I can’t keep looking backwards and expecting the past to shake out differently. I have to keep my eyes on the prize and stay positive—despite what anyone else might think.