He grabs the bags and brings them in, dropping them just to the side of the door. “Wow.” The approval in his voice makes me grin. “This is amazing. Seriously.”
I’d already told him about the renovations I’d done. Since he had gone through it with the resort, it was nice to have someone to talk to about the trials of dealing with contractors. One-point-oh was never interested. He couldn’t have cared less and didn’t think the place was anything worth discussing.
“You like?”
“I love it. It’s really perfect.”
“I think so. When I bought it, I had planned to flip it, but I couldn’t dream of it after a week. It was just too perfect for me.”
Just like you’re perfect for me.
I don’t say it, but it feels as though he heard it. Oliver comes to stand in front of me, my face framed by his strong hands as he leans down to kiss my forehead. “Show me the rest,” he says with an edge to his voice.
We walk through together, holding hands and smiling at each other as I show him the various projects. When we’re done, we head onto the back deck and lie together on the swing. It’s not a normal swing, which is why I love it, it’s almost the size of a twin bed. It’s also the most comfortable place ever.
“I missed you,” Oliver says as I listen to his heartbeat. “I didn’t know how much until I saw you.”
I lift my head, resting my chin on my hand. “I know how you feel.”
“I’ve been a dick to everyone at home.”
“I doubt that.” Even though his sister said as much, I don’t want to betray that conversation.
“I have, but . . . I’m so stressed, and there’s just so much . . .”
“You don’t have to explain it, I get it. My head has been such a mess. I keep saying I’m going to snap if I get just one more bad thing.”
“What do you mean?” Oliver asks.
“We had some issues with a mission this week. I was so overwhelmed, and I kept wishing I could talk to my dad. I wanted to call him, but I can’t anymore, you know? I’m alone.”
Oliver’s hand moves up and down my spine. “You’re not alone.”
“I have you. I know I do, but we’re so far apart.”
“We knew this would be hard.”
“It’s been two weeks, and I want to scream,” I say with a smile. I’m only half joking. I have wanted to get in my car and go to him so many times.
He makes me happy and safe. “You make it so that I don’t think of cancer and death and sadness. In your arms, I’m okay.”
Oliver shifts and then closes his eyes.
“What’s wrong?”
“Nothing. Long drive, and I’m already dreading leaving.”
“Then no more talking about leaving and sadness. Tonight, we have pizza, and tomorrow, we’ll go exploring. I want to take you to my favorite places, and Mark would love to see you.”
Oliver hugs me tighter. “No sad for tonight.”
I lie back down, closing my eyes as I, once again, settle into the steady beat of his heart. “Just us.”
“Just us.”
Thirty
OLIVER
All weekend I’ve had ample opportunities to tell her. On the ride down, I promised I would when I got here, but I couldn’t, not after what she said while we were curled up on the swing.
Now, I leave in the morning, and I’ve yet to find a way to say it.
I have cancer.
I have cancer. It’s not going to kill me, but I have it and I’m going to be okay.
Maren looks up from her plate and smiles.
Say it. Just tell her.
“The food is good, right?”
I haven’t tasted a damn thing. I nod. “Definitely.”
She went through a lot of trouble to make this weekend fun and light, but there’s darkness hovering over me.
The next few months are going to suck, and I’m not going to be able to come here. I’m going to be sick and dealing with treatments. While it’s beatable, Dr. Dowdle was clear that I will still have a few months of hell.
I thought I could just go through it without Maren knowing, but that’s not right. I don’t want to keep this from her or lie and make excuses as to why we can’t see each other.
No, I have to be honest and trust that we’ll figure it out. From everything I know about her, I can’t see her walking away.
“Oliver, there’s something I want to talk about . . .”
“Me too,” I say, putting my fork down.
“You do?”
I nod. “Yes, but you go first.”
She gives me a soft smile. “Are you sure?”
“Absolutely.”
I’m in no hurry to ruin the rest of the small amount of time we have left together. I really wanted to do it after we made love, when she was sated and maybe a little less likely to be upset, but those moments came and went without the words coming from my lips.
She lets out a huge sigh. “Okay. I’ll be right back.” Maren rushes out of the room, and returns with something that looks like an envelope, before placing it on her lap as she sits. “I first want to tell you how much I care about you. I didn’t know that I could feel this way about anyone. I thought I had my life all figured out. I had plans, and those plans weren’t this, but then they became this, which is great and perfect. I know you wanted to be alone and didn’t plan this either.”
Her rambling has me going in circles, but it sounds like she needs me to agree. “I did.”
“That’s what is so perfect about us. We were completely okay with the plan to walk away at the end of this charade. We never had plans to be together past our fake wedding.”
“Which changed,” I say carefully.
“Yes, but not by choice, not really. Not in the end.”
I lean back, trying to decipher what she’s saying. It’s impossible, so I just nod.
She grabs the envelope and hands it to me. “Here.”
I grab it, open the flap, watching her as I do it. She looks nervous. When I slide the paperwork out, my vision goes red.
She filed for a fucking annulment.
An annulment. After everything. This whole weekend of us being together, saying all kinds of bullshit, she had this planned.
I can’t believe this.
Once again, I’m not what the woman I love wants.
I’m fucking done.
I look up at her, and instead of sadness or regret, she looks hopeful. “You want an annulment?”
“Yes, but . . .”
“But what?”
Her head jerks back at the bite in my voice.
“Well, I just thought . . .”
“You thought what?” I ask, anger in every syllable. She didn’t think. She just fucking went off on her own.
“I thought this is what you’d want?”
What part of me driving here and spending time with her made her think this is what I want? Nothing.
No, this is what she wants.
This is exactly what I wondered about. Her father is gone, I’m no longer required for her scheme, so she’s cutting ties. Unreal.
Well, this time, I’m not going to go quietly into the night. I’m done with being used by women, and she is the worst out of all of them. I’m married to her, and she still doesn’t want me.
“No, you thought . . . hey, my dad is dead, I don’t need to keep up with this, never mind the fact that my husband has shown me in every way short of screaming it from a rooftop that he’s falling in love with me. I think I’ll file for an annulment.”