Thief

Page 22

Olivia’s emotion was frozen on her face. Slowly, it dawned on me what she saw when she walked through the door. How it must have looked. I wrestled with what to tell her. If I explained who Sidney was, I would have to tell her about the ring and the house. I was about to explain the whole thing, anything to get that look off her face, when she told me she loved me for the first time.

“I loved you.”

My heart ached. It should have been one of the happiest moments of my life. But, she wasn’t telling me because she wanted to. She was telling me to hurt me. Because she thought I did something to hurt her.

I heard my mother’s words, about her being too broken. Everything shifted in that moment. I wish it hadn’t, but it did. I couldn’t fix her. I couldn’t love her enough to chip away at the calcified hurt that was affecting everything she did. My thoughts about our life together went from a house in the sunshine and a yard full of children to Olivia crying in a corner, blaming me for rushing her into something she wasn’t ready for.

Then she accused me of being like her father.

The hurt was profound. Especially since I’d spent the last year and a half trying to show her I was nothing like him. When she ran out of my office, thinking that I cheated on her, I didn’t stop her.

I stood frozen, the ring box pressing against my thigh, the room swinging around me.

I leaned both hands on my desk and squeezed my eyes closed, breathing through my mouth. Five minutes. My whole life just changed in five minutes.

She only wanted to see the bad. Maybe it was for the best. Maybe all I saw was my love and I hadn’t weighed the consequences of that love.

Steve walked into my office and stopped short.

“Did I just see Olivia?”

I looked up at him, my eyes burning. He must have seen something on my face.

“What happened?” He pulled the door closed and took a step toward me. I held up a hand to stop him and dropped my head.

“She saw me in here with Sidney. She assumed…”

“Caleb,” Steve said. “Go after her.”

My head snapped up. That’s the last thing I expected to hear. Especially since I wasn’t sure how much my mother had turned him.

“She wants out,” I said. “Since we first got together. She’s always finding a reason for us not to be together. What kind of life can we have if she does that?”

Steve shook his head. “Some people take more work than others. You fell in love with a really complicated woman. You can weigh how hard things can and will be for the two of you, but what you really need to consider is if you can live without her.”

I was out the door a second later. No. No, I couldn’t live without her.

I took the stairs. She’d made a left out of my office instead of going to the elevators. I took them two at a time. By the time I burst through the exit doors, it was dark outside. God, how had I let this day get away from me? If I’d just left when I was supposed to…

Her car was gone. I had to go back upstairs to get my keys. She probably wasn’t going to let me explain. If I went to her apartment while she was like this, she wouldn’t even open the door. But, if I let the idea that I was cheating sit in her head for too long, it would solidify. She’d believe it, and that would be that. So, what could I do? How did I handle this situation? I paced my office. She wasn’t like other women. I couldn’t show up and talk her out of her thoughts.

Fuck. This was bad. I had to figure out a way to reach her.

Cammie.

“She’s with me,” Cammie said, when I called her.

“Let me talk to her, Cammie. Please.”

“No, she doesn’t want to talk to you. You need to let her cool off.”

I’d hung up, thinking that was what I was going to do. But, after a few hours, I was driving to Cammie’s. When I got there and didn’t see Olivia’s car, I knew she’d been lying to me. So I went to the hotel.

Chapter Thirteen

It’s all shadows without Olivia. I feel myself constantly wanting for her light. I haven’t heard from her since I left her condo the night she told me about Noah. It’s been a month, and I don’t know what she’s decided. I know what I’ve decided.

I send her a text.

Divorced?

Her text comes back almost immediately.

O: Fuck off.

You at work?

O: Yes!

I’ll be there in ten

O: No!

I turn my phone off and wait. I was already in the parking lot when I sent the first text. I linger in my car for a minute, running my finger over my bottom lip. I know what she’s going to do next, so when I see her walking quickly out of the building, I smirk. She’s trying to leave before I show up. I jump out of the car and walk toward her. She doesn’t see me until the last minute. She has her car keys out and her heels are snapping on the concrete as she tries to make her escape.

“Going somewhere?”

Her shoulders jerk and she spins around.

“Why are you always so goddamn early?”

“Why are you trying to run away?”

She gives me a dirty look, her eyes darting left and right, as if she’s trying to find a way to escape me.

I hold out my hand. “Come on, Duchess.”

She tosses a quick glance over her shoulder before she places her hand in mine. I pull her toward me and her little birdlike steps skip to keep up with mine. I don’t let go of her hand, and she doesn’t try to pull away. When I look down at her, she’s biting her lip. She looks terrified. She should.

I stop to open her door then shoot around to mine. She’s wearing a red dress with white polka dots. The neckline dips low. She hasn’t looked at me since she got in the car; instead she’s focused on her feet. Red stilettos, red toenails peeking through. Nice. Her style is a combination of Jacqueline Kennedy and a gypsy — my beautiful contradiction. Her hair is twisted up in a bun, and there is a pen holding it in place. I reach over and slip the pen out. Her hair tumbles around her like black water.

She doesn’t ask where we are going. I drive to the beach and pull into a spot a block away. She waits until I walk around to open her door and takes my hand as I help her out. We walk connected, until we reach the sand. She stops there to slip off her shoes, using my shoulder to keep balance. They dangle on the tips of her fingers as she reaches for me with her free hand. I take it and we lace fingers. It is considered winter in Florida, so there is only a handful of sunbathers, most of them from the North and with white hair. The area of beach we are on belongs to a hotel. There are canvas-covered gazebos with lawn chairs underneath them. We find an empty one and I sit down and stretch out my legs. Olivia makes to take the one next to me, but I pull her on my chair. She sits between my legs and leans back against my chest. I put one arm around her and sling the other on top of my head. My heart is racing. I haven’t had her in my arms in a long time. It feels so natural to be like this with her. I say her name just to see how it sounds. She jabs me in the ribs with her elbow.

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