Julie
The entire night, it was hard for either of us to sleep. I think we were both too excited to get out of this hospital and back to a real bed.
Together.
Halfway through the night, I let it slip that I brought some of the journals with me. He wasn’t surprised and let me crawl as close as I could get to him so we could read some together. I’m sure he doesn’t like reliving his past, but in my jumbled mind…I’m helping him get through something he doesn’t know is holding him back. He needs the distraction right now, regardless of what the distraction is.
September 12th, 1992
Four incredible months.
I’ve had a complete, loving, and full family for four amazing months.
Veronica wasn’t sure Oliver was going to make it, and it’s all my fault. If I’d kept a closer watch on her during her pregnancy, he wouldn’t have been born with so much hurt in his veins. She pushed so many things through her body that my son paid the price for.
I felt her pulling away from us these last few weeks, but I chose to ignore it and shower them with my love instead. She says it’s what’s made Oliver pull through like he has.
I think he’s just strong…like his dad.
Or maybe it’s a miracle, like Veronica says.
I shut the book and look at Oliver’s sad eyes. “I know this can’t be easy, learning the harsh truth about your own mother.”
He shrugs. “It’s nothing I didn’t already know or suspect. She’s not a good person, baby—I already know that.” He smiles and touches my cheek. “She never had the light that you have…at least, I’ve never seen it.”
My cheeks flush with heat. “I’m not an angel, Oliver.”
He leans as close into me as he can without cringing from the pain. “Sunshine, you are my angel. Don’t you ever forget that. Now…” He looks down at the closed book in my hands. “Let’s read some more.”
“That’s all for this one.” I hold up the book and shake it. “That was the last entry.”
He scratches his jaw. “How many have we been through now? Three of them?”
“Yes, but I think I have the fourth in my bag.” I rummage through the bag and find the faded green book, putting the finished one back inside for safekeeping. “Here it is.”
Oliver breathes in deeply, but I don’t hear him exhale as I start reading to him.
December 25th, 1997
“Wait, where are the books from the last five years?” Oliver interrupts me. “Did you grab all of the journals from the cabin?”
I shake my head. “No, this is the last one I took. They were all in order when I grabbed them, though. Maybe they’re still in my library, and when you’re better we can go look.” I narrow my eyes at him, because he wants to argue and suggest that we go back to the cabin now—I can tell.
I start reading out loud to him again.
December 25th, 1997
Life is rough and hard.
I gave up on Veronica long ago and vowed my undying love to my son. Even my father is coming around and showing interest in being a grandfather. I’m grateful and happy for that, if for nothing else.
Last week was the last straw. I called Mrs. Atchley and explained everything to her before I had to leave town. I knew something was going to happen…deep down, something wasn’t right. The air wasn’t right, Veronica wasn’t right. Mrs. Atchley raised me, and the very best thing I can do for Oliver is let her help me raise him.
I suspect that my father knows that I know Mrs. Atchley is my birth mother. I’ve known for some time, but there’s a reason neither of them has come forward with the information. Regardless, I need her help in making Oliver into a functional member of society instead of the mess that Veronica almost twisted him into.
That’s why I called her. I knew she would take Oliver if I couldn’t make it home in time. And when she called me and told me about what Veronica and her friend, Mac, did to my son…that was the first time I’d ever felt hate for her.
Hate. For the mother of my son.
Even thinking it makes me sick.
I close the book and wait. Oliver doesn’t speak—he’s too busy remembering one of the worst times in his life, the day his mother left him for good. I hate myself for even telling him I had the journals, but in a way…it’s a good thing he’s facing this now when she’s lurking around in the shadows.
“This is some heavy shit,” he says with a quick exhale. “I think I’m done with that for a while.”
A smile spreads across my face. “I’m proud of you for sitting through that. Your father kept a pretty detailed recollection of your life.”
He nods. “Yeah, he was always a sentimental guy. Let’s talk about something else.”
“Well, we can talk about how you’re going to behave at Brandon’s house.”
I agreed to let Oliver come with me to Brandon’s house; some of the things that I want from there, I honestly never thought I’d see again. I gave Oliver some conditions about going with me, but all he did was smile like a schoolboy and mutter something about following the rules before falling asleep mid-conversation.
The rules.
I can’t even think about those right now.
The rules of living.
The rules of breaking up.
The rules of not letting your boyfriend’s best friend fall for you.
The rules of keeping your boyfriend in love with you.
Oliver is snoring softly next to me in his hospital bed. As his eyelids flutter, he finds my hand and intertwines our fingers, sending jolts of electricity up my arm. I can’t stop examining him like he’s not really here. I can’t help but wonder what substance we really have between us, not to question our love but to really figure out where it came from.
He saved me.
I saved him.
I found a new confidence in myself when Oliver started chasing me. There’s a balance between us; he’s rough and tumble and I’m the calm he seeks when life gets too messed up for him to process.
My classes start in three days…who will help take care of him when I’m away? I felt the tension between Oliver and Casey…Oliver knows something. He isn’t stupid. He knows his best friend well. He knows that Casey is struggling with something inside of himself that no one can fix but him.
A few months ago, Oliver and I disgusted each other…or so we thought. He always seemed so angry, but that’s because he was fighting an ember of feelings growing inside of him for me. We became so addicted to each other that it’s probably not even healthy.
How can I be so in love with someone I barely know?
This isn’t Brandon love—Brandon love was forced and broken.
Oliver love is pure and unexplained…heated and passionate.
He stirs next to me and I squeeze his hand to let him know I’m still here; he smiles in his sleep and continues to snore lightly. I don’t know why I’m sitting here questioning everything—like usual—while this man who loves me sleeps soundly just knowing that I’m next to him.
A small knock on the door startles me and Mary pokes her head inside.
“I have some paperwork for you to sign if that’s okay,” she whispers. “Only a legal guardian or spouse can sign these, though.” Her fingers scrape across the pages and it sounds like sandpaper.
I glare at her. “What are you saying, exactly?”
Her lips stretch into a thin line. “I’m saying that it was okay before when he was in trouble, but now, legally you can’t sign these if you’re not his wife.”
I grit my teeth and start to seethe. “He told you I’m his wife.”
“That doesn’t mean you actually are, honey.” Her voice is condescending enough to make me take a deep breath. “Just because you wish for something doesn’t make it real.”
I could pounce on her.
“Get out,” I whisper, trying not to wake Oliver up. “Get the hell out of here.”
Her laugh is louder now. “I could just have you escorted out of here, since it seems you aren’t who you say you are.”
“Yeah, but then I’ll have your job, now won’t I?” Oliver’s tired voice chimes in as he sits up and stares at her. “I’d listen to my wife if I were you, Nurse Mary, and get the hell out of here before she kicks your ass.” He starts to get up from the bed, but I place my hand on his shoulder to keep him down.
I turn to Mary and she’s still frowning. “What’s your problem?” I spit.
She grabs me by the arm and squeezes hard. “I think it’s time for you to leave.” Her voice is rough. Oliver rushes off the bed now and heads for us, yanking her arm free from the hard grip she has around mine.
His eyes are dark and scary. “Don’t ever fucking touch her again,” he growls. “What the hell is your problem?”
“I knew you wouldn’t remember me, even when you were coherent enough. I tried to let it go and tried to be professional, but I can’t do it anymore. You met her three months ago and already you’re calling her your wife? We dated for six months before you dumped me for that Heather bitch, and all I got from you was a text message!”
Oliver laughs. “Oh, shit. I didn’t even recognize you. Wasn’t your name Mary Braxton?”
Nurse Mary scowls. “I use my mother’s maiden name now.”
Oliver laughs harder now. “I remember our relationship as more…casual than anything else. We weren’t actually together.”
My body squirms from how much he’s shaming this woman. Clearly, she’s been holding a torch for him for a long time, and I don’t like the way he’s talking to her. But that’s a conversation for another time.
“Oliver—” I begin, but he cuts me off.
“I’m sorry that you feel like I treated you wrong, but I’m not that same person anymore. I also don’t know what you want from me, since I’m in love with someone else.”
Mary runs from the room, leaving us alone to look at each other and figure out what the hell just happened. When the door opens again, both of us hope that Mary isn’t coming back for more.
“Hey there, you two,” Dr. Osmond says loudly as he walks into the room. “How are you feeling today, Mr. Jackson?”
Oliver shakes his head and pulls me closer to him. “I’m actually doing better than I ever have, thanks to my nurse right here.” Dr. Osmond chuckles as Oliver smiles at me. “I don’t want Nurse Mary back in this room. She’s not welcome here.”
Dr. Osmond doesn’t seem surprised. “That’s not a problem. Now…” He waves his hands in the air. “Let’s talk about getting discharged. If you feel strong enough, then you can sign out and go. I’ll be flying back in six weeks for a follow-up, but in the meantime, you have to promise me that you’ll do your physical therapy and get enough rest. Think you can handle that, Nurse Jackson?” The doctor winks at me, and I look at Oliver to make sure he isn’t going to blow a gasket. I sweetly smile at the doctor and nod my head. “Good, then you are free to go. Normally we would keep you for longer, but you’ve seemed to heal very nicely. It’s uncanny. You can call my personal phone if anything goes wrong, and Mr. Jackson…” His eyes burrow into the space between me and Oliver. “No working out.”
“But—”
I raise my eyebrows. “You heard him.”
“And no sex for at least six weeks.”
Oliver’s sigh fills the room. “You’re fucking kidding me.”
Dr. Osmond shakes his head. “I’m afraid not. No sex, no physical activity.” He winks at me and shakes Oliver’s hand before leaving the room. I forgot how peaceful he looks when he towers over me—how much he preys on my emotions when he does normal, mundane things like pick me up in a tight embrace.
I have to cross my legs and force myself to think about something else as he gathers his things, excited to finally be free. He runs some water through his now-longer hair and frowns into the mirror. “I need a haircut…wanna stop on the way home?”
Home.
I blush. “Anything for you, Mr. Jackson.”
His broad smile finds me in the reflection of the mirror. “And anything for you, Mrs. Jackson.”
Eek.
Double eek.
The feeling that I got when he first smiled at me months ago comes rushing back into my blood, making me dizzy. “First, we go to Brandon’s to get my things.” He jokes like he’s having a heart attack as he turns around, and all I can do is laugh. “I promise we’ll be in and out.”
His deep emerald eyes find mine. “Promise?”
“Have I ever lied to you?” A nervous laugh escapes my throat because…yes, I have.
I’ve lied through my teeth.
His groan fills my head. “Fine. Let’s go to Brandon’s, but I get something in return for you making me see those jerks again.” His smile is playful, and his thick fingers tug at the end of my t-shirt.
“Like what?”
Don’t be stupid, Julie. You know what he wants.
He licks his lips slowly. “Cheeseburgers.”
“Cheese—wait, what?” I have to hold down the vomit in my throat. He scared the hell out of me on purpose and his hearty laugh isn’t making me feel any better. “I’ll get you some cheeseburgers.” His eyes are happy and they dance with mine; I take his waiting, outstretched hand. It’s like we’re back on the same wavelength as he tugs me into the elevator and nods his head at the on-looking nurses.
A fire burns in my stomach when I think about Mary.
What was her problem? How can someone hold onto something for that long?
Casey texts me that he got us a rental car that’s waiting for us in the parking lot. I answer him with a quick “thank you” and make sure he can’t read anything into it. I find the small blue car without a problem and watch Oliver cringe.
“Is the Jeep gone?” His sadness reaches out to me and I can’t take the pressure.
I wrap my arms around him and he lets me hold him against the new car. “That’s what Casey is working on for me.”
He kisses my ear and pulls away quickly. “Call him off the case; I’ll buy my own car. I love you for thinking of that, though. Plus, I want to drive.”
I shake my head. “No way, get in the car. I’m not taking any chances.”
He doesn’t like it, but he gets in the passenger side. I really wanted to go to Brandon’s alone, but Oliver was never going to let that happen. He buckles his seatbelt and folds his arms over his chest. “So, we’re going to Brandon’s. What do you have there that you want so badly? I can replace anything you’ve left behind.”
My mouth moves before I even know it. “I don’t like when you throw your money around. There are some things that money can’t buy, Oliver.”
I’ve hurt his feelings, but there isn’t any other way to say it. I’ve tried to ignore the comments he makes about buying me things and giving me whatever I want. While I appreciate the gesture…I don’t need anyone to take care of me anymore.
“I have pictures and things. There’s a ring that my Aunt Shelley gave me before she passed away. I want that back too.”
He finds my hand and caresses my fingers. The roughness of his thumb excites me as it glides over my knuckles; I almost forget where we are and what we’re doing. I know the way to Brandon’s house like the back of my hand—I lived there, and I’ll never forget the endless, tear-filled drives home I had going back there.
“You’re quiet.” Oliver’s voice cuts through the silence as I turn onto Brandon’s street. My heart races—I’m nervous. “Are you having second thoughts? I can send Casey back here and get your stuff.”
I pull into the driveway and park the car. “No, I need to do this. I’m glad you’re here with me. I don’t think I could do this alone.”
“Baby, I’ll do anything for you. You know that, right?”
His sexy smile punches me in the stomach. “So, do you think you can handle this?” I motion toward the front door of Brandon’s house. “It’s a pretty stressful situation, and you just got out of the hospital…”
“Oh, I can handle this.” He unbuckles his seatbelt and opens his door. It takes him longer than me to get out of the car. “The question is, can you handle it?”
I say nothing.
I know what he’s talking about, but I still say nothing. The truth is…I don’t know if I can handle this, but I’m glad he’s here with me.
I’m going to try my best to fake it until I make it.