“You’re so violent! I hope Spencer knows what he’s signed on for,” Ally teased. “Just try it on and tell me what you think.”
Olivia did, and this time, when she stood before the three-way mirror with her best friend right behind her, she knew the squeal of delight was genuine.
“You love it, right? Tell me you love it,” Ally demanded.
Running her hands down the waterfall of shimmering fabric, Olivia said reverently, “It’s gorgeous.”
“Eep! I knew you would love it!”
After the tailor had taken her measurements and Ally ordered several more dresses in the same color and of similar design for the other bridesmaids, they walked down the street to a small bistro for lunch.
“This is the first time I’ve been to a restaurant since I got pregnant,” Ally confided as she looked over the menu.
“Morning sickness finally gone?”
“Yes, thank God! I was seriously going out of my mind. If I ever see another saltine…” She shook her head and glared at the menu. “I’m so hungry I might buy one of everything. What are you having?”
“I think I’m going with a salad.”
“A salad?” Ally gasped in offense. “You are not getting a salad. Get a damn steak or something. Eat with me.”
“I’m not the one who has been starving for the past four months,” Olivia protested.
“I need to be surrounded by real food. Plus, I need you to buy something really yummy so I can pick off your plate. Otherwise everyone will think I’m a pig. It’s in the friendship bible,” Ally insisted, taking on an admonishing tone.
Olivia raised an eyebrow at that, but she took another peek at the menu just to appease her. “Okay, I’ll get the grilled chicken and garlic mashed potatoes. How’s that, Miss Piggy?”
Narrowing her eyes, Ally growled playfully. “You’re so going to pay for that.”
The waiter interrupted her threat just in time, and the women placed their orders. When he was gone, Ally launched into talk about the wedding.
“I can’t believe we only have a couple weeks left. It’s all going so fast. I still have to secure the chaplain and Jami is still trying to talk Don into wearing a tux. Can you believe the man insists on wearing his windbreaker outfit?”
Olivia chuckled, believing every word. That man lived to give others a hard time. “It’s going to work out fine. If anyone can get that man to do something, it’s Jami.”
“I know.” Ally sighed, getting that dreamy look Olivia recognized whenever her friend thought about her fiancé. “Jami’s pretty great, isn’t he?”
Olivia nodded in agreement. “Yep, he sure is. I think you hit the jackpot with him.”
“Hell, I won the damn lottery. If anyone had told me ten years ago that I would be standing here now, pregnant and planning to hitch myself to him, I would have laughed in their face. But Jami’s really grown up since we were kids. He knows what he wants, and he’s not afraid to go after it.”
“Well, it’s a good thing he got you when he did before some other guy snapped you up.”
“I am quite the catch, aren’t I?”
They smiled at each other. “So, what do I do at this shindig? What’s my role?” Olivia asked, directing the subject before it got too sentimental.
“Just stand there and look pretty.”
“Oh, so just be myself, then. Gotcha,” Olivia winked, earning another grin from Ally.
By the time the dinners came, Olivia was mostly full from the two platters of loaded nacho appetizers Ally had ordered along with her meal. As Ally reached across the table to steal a whole chicken breast off her plate, Olivia wondered if it had been by design. Fill her up on snacks so Ally could steal her food.
Oh well. Seeing her friend devouring the food with gusto made Olivia smile. Ally was enjoying life, and she was enjoying being along for the ride. She was happy for her friend. She’d found the perfect mate and her happiness was spilling over the sides of her cup.
Someday, Olivia was going to have that, too. With the recent strides she and Spencer had made, she felt like that future was well within her grasp.
NINETEEN
Loud music pulsed through the walls as Spencer moved around the kitchen preparing a quick, easy meal for Olivia when she got home from work. He wanted everything to be right for once. Just once. But someone up there must really hate him, because no matter how hard he tried, he kept getting thrown curve balls.
One of these days, one of them was bound to hit their mark.
Tonight just may have been the one.
After Olivia left for her fitting and to enjoy lunch with Ally, Spencer had set to work straightening up the apartment. Call it a peace offering. He had a lot to make up for after trashing her place with that stupid party. While it was moderately clean already, he still had his work cut out for him. Although he hadn’t had a chance to accumulate much in the way of material possessions, Olivia had more than enough to make up for the deficit.
He’d caught up the laundry, scrubbed down the kitchen and bathroom, and combed every cabinet in the apartment for loose razors, and then thrown them out with the trash.
He wasn’t going to risk her hurting herself again. If she had a problem with that, then he was prepared to fight it out with her. He wasn’t going to stand by and watch her self-destruct. He knew the mind of an addict, and he wasn’t naïve enough to believe her when she promised not to do it again.
Oh, she meant what she’d said. She didn’t intend to harm herself, but there would come a time when the urge would strike her, and he wanted to make sure none of her favorite tools were around when it did.
But as he chopped up an onion, it occurred to him that he couldn’t completely safeguard her world. There was always going to be danger, and he wouldn’t always be around to watch over her.
It tormented him to think that he might someday walk into another scene like the one in the bathroom. The very thought agitated him, but that wasn’t the only reason he was upset.
Their visit with Dr. Peterson had been bothering him since they left two days ago. It wasn’t just the question the doctor had posed to him, but what Olivia had said. She wanted him at that wedding, by her side, insisting that Jami would want him there, too. But he wasn’t comfortable with the idea.
Even though he would like nothing more than to be there to support his friend—his brother—he couldn’t bring himself to just barge in on one of the most important days of his life, unannounced.
If Jami wanted him, he needed to tell him. Spencer had pulled a lot of asshole moves, but this wasn’t going to be one of them. If that meant that Olivia would have to go there alone, then so be it.
The only concession he was willing to make was traveling with her. He didn’t like the idea of being hundreds of miles away from her any more than she did. So, he intended to be on that plane right there beside her. They could spend the night together at the hotel, and she could go to the wedding in the morning. Jami never had to know he was there.
With that problem solved, there was still one left that nagged at him: Haley.
Since finding her at Bud’s, drugged up and playing active participant in drug trafficking, Spencer hadn’t been able to get her out of his mind. By the looks of her, she’d been in the lifestyle a long time. He wasn’t sure if there was any help for her at this point. She seemed pretty out of it. Or at least she was to the point where she just didn’t care about anything anymore.
He’d reached the same point a time or two, and look at what it had cost him. He didn’t want that for her. Neither of them had any real family to fall back on. Which left them with each other, but he couldn’t trust himself to be there for her right now, and he couldn’t trust her to be in his life either. Yet, he hated the idea of leaving her there to rot.
The hell was her own making, but when he’d been there, he would have killed for someone—anyone—to care enough about him to help pull him out of it.
What if that’s what she was waiting
for—someone to give a damn. Could he live with himself if he turned his back on her and something bad happened—something worse than what already had?
He had to trust that if things got too rough for her, she’d reach out to him. But he wouldn’t hold his breath. Sometimes, the best thing a person could do was save themselves. He just hoped she did it before it was too late.
The sound of the front door clapping shut made Spencer jump. Sauce splashed out of the pan, splattering the counter in dots of red.
Grabbing a hand towel, he began wiping it up just as the music turned down. Olivia entered the room a moment later.
“For, like, half a second, I thought I was going to have to hurt you,” she said, then sniffed the air. “Something smells good.” Approaching him from behind, she wrapped her arms around his waist as he straightened and looked over his shoulder to see what he was cooking. “Spaghetti? Mm my favorite.”
“I thought fried bologna sandwiches were your favorite.”
“Okay, then it’s my second favorite.” Turning in her arms, he smiled as she stuck her tongue out at him, and she looked so cute doing it, he couldn’t resist claiming her mouth.
The kiss was slow and deliberate. Spencer held her as tight as he dared and dipped his tongue into her mouth, tasting her sweetness and taking from it the comfort he needed. In an instant, it struck him.
She was his safe place. Olivia was his first true home.
Frowning, he lifted his head and just stared down at her, soaking her in. Her blonde hair was swept up today in a haphazard bun on top of her head. She wore little makeup, just a light dusting of blush that lent a delicate pink to her flushed cheeks, and a touch of mascara to bring out the flecks of cobalt in her blue eyes.
To him, she was a summer’s breeze in the middle of winter. When everything else was dead, she was the spark of life in the middle of it all. How could one person mean so much?
He realized that this must be how Jami felt about Alyson. He’d accused him of changing, but if this was what he had, then Spencer finally understood why.
He’d do pretty much anything for the woman standing here in his arms. Anything. Even though he still had a lot of work left to do, he’d changed himself just to be with her. Just for a chance. She was proof of the kind of things love could accomplish.
His thoughts returned to Haley. If he couldn’t be what she needed, he knew what could. If love were powerful enough to give someone roots, to provide them a purpose, a reason to live, then nothing could be more powerful than a mother’s love for her child.
Haley hadn’t shown much concern for that baby while he was there, but maybe, beneath the haze and obsession that Bud had created through the promise of the next high, she wanted something more. Maybe there was a chance that she cared more for her child than she did for herself.
He had to believe that there was still hope for her because he couldn’t stand for there to be any other outcome.
“You’re drifting again,” Liv said. Her smooth hand covered his stubbled cheek as she stared up at him with concern. “Won’t you tell me what’s on your mind?”
“It’s nothing.” Turning his head, he kissed her palm and broke away to finish making dinner.
“Your mouth says one thing, but your body language is saying something completely different. Is this about the wedding? Because you know I won’t be angry if you don’t go, right? I would never force you to do something you don’t want to do.”
Carrying the pot of spaghetti to the sink, Spencer dumped its contents into the waiting strainer. “I know that.”
“Then what is it?” Appearing beside him, Liv placed her hand on his arm, stopping him before he could get back to the stove.
“I just have a lot on my mind right now. It’s nothing to concern yourself with.”
“Don’t do that,” she scolded. “Don’t close me out. Dr. Peterson said—”
The mention of the doctor flipped something inside Spencer, and he dropped the pan loudly on one of the burners. Liv jumped, startled by the noise. “I don’t care what Dr. Peterson said,” Spencer growled, pressing his fists into the Formica. He knew all about how this relationship thing was supposed to work, but sometimes a man just needed time to think without someone nagging after him to share his feelings.
“So you don’t care that a lack of communication will hurt our relationship? Is that it?”
Now Liv was getting irritable, which just amped up Spencer’s emotions, which had been steadily growing out of control all day.
“You’re putting words in my mouth.”
“Well, someone has to since they’re obviously not going to come from you.”
Rounding on her, Spencer leveled her with a dark look. “Are you trying to pick a fight? Because I’m warning you, with the mood I’m in, it won’t end nice.”
“I’m not picking anything,” Liv said stiffly. “You’re the one with the bad attitude. All I wanted to do was talk, but you won’t let me in. You never let me in, not unless the world falls to hell, and then all of a sudden you’re there to pick up the pieces.”
“So this is about me leaving?”
“I guess it is,” she said, folding her arms over her chest in defiance.
He threw up his hands. “If you’re going to throw the past back in my face, then why are we even standing here?” For that matter, how had they even come to this point? He’d made her dinner, and now they were fighting.
“You tell me.”
Stabbing his fingers through his hair, Spencer tugged at the roots. “Look, I’ve had a lousy day to finish off a shitty week. I’m not going to do this with you right now.” Moving past her, he headed for his room. “Dinner’s ready if you’re hungry.”
***
Dinner tasted like something she might scrape off the bottom of her shoe after walking through a park. It wasn’t Spencer’s fault. Olivia was just in a terrible mood and it was affecting her outlook on almost everything. Even her favorite show “Baby Daddy” wasn’t striking her funny, and that show usually had her in stitches.
No, this was all because she never had been able to stand it when she and Spencer fought. It always ended with her feeling like a hole had been ripped in her chest. When he hurt, so did she, which was why she needed him to talk to her.
She could see that something was eating at him, and she wanted to be there to help him fix it. But, stubborn man that he was, Spencer refused to let her in.
Dr. Peterson wanted them to work on being open and honest with each other. Ideally, he thought they should have more separation, with Spencer living somewhere else entirely. He might have a point, but it was out of the question. So, they had to work at transparency.
If they maintained an open line of communication—no lies, no secrets—then they stood a chance. Neither one of them had any real experience with long-term relationships, as they both tended to self-sabotage. With a lot of work, however, Dr. Peterson thought they stood a good chance of making it as a couple.
Clearly, they loved each other, but love wasn’t always enough. Olivia needed trust and a solid foundation to stand on, too. Her life had always been a bit unstable, so she needed Spencer to step up to the plate and be what she needed.
He needed similar things from her, too. Namely someone who could forgive him his faults and wouldn’t turn their back at the first sign of trouble. That was her, right from the start.
She needed to tell him this, make him understand what he was doing, because she wasn’t convinced that Spencer fully realized how he was acting. But, admittedly, she was a little scared to confront him right now.
Since locking himself away in his room, the only sound to come from it was the constant stream of heavy metal music. At least she knew he was still alive in there. Losing himself in heavy riffs had been a coping mechanism since they’d first started dating. Whenever Spencer retreated into himself, he listened to music. Unlike her, who liked to cut her problems out entirely.
That single thought had her looking to
ward the darkened bathroom. Inside was a tiny sliver of metal, cold and smooth, that promised to do what no amount of therapy ever could.
Chewing her bottom lip, she set her plate aside and told herself to keep her ass seated. There was nothing that blade could do, except cause more problems. She didn’t need it.
Except, she did.
No. Spencer would be so angry with her if she hurt herself again. He’d been so upset after he’d found her. She never wanted to be the cause of that look again.
But what if he didn’t find out? She could keep it hidden. It didn’t have to be deep. Just enough to ease the pressure. Nothing more than a scratch.
With jerky movements, Olivia stood and slowly made her way to the bathroom. The door stood open, the only light coming from a tiny yellow nightlight barely strong enough to reach the doorway.
Glancing over her shoulder to assure herself that Spencer’s door was still shut, she took a tentative step inside. Then another. And another. Until she was standing in front of the sink.
In the mirror, her face cast in shadows, Olivia looked like something out of a horror movie. Her eyes were too wide, her face drawn. She looked desperate, eager. Hungry.
Her heart racing, mouth watering, and skin prickling in anticipation, she grasped the handle on the lower cupboard and pulled. Inside were perfect rows of lotions, sprays, and toiletries too numerous to count, creating an organized chaos.
Reaching beyond all of it, she sought the pill box she’d stashed the blade in after Spencer found her. She didn’t want him to have the constant reminder staring back at him every time he opened the cabinet door. She should have just gotten rid of it, but it was comforting to know it was there. Ready for her if she needed it, even though, at the time, she hadn’t intended to use it again.
A twinge of shame pinched in her chest, but it was easily ignored. When her fingers brushed over the plastic case she was looking for, she pulled it out. Already, she could feel its calming effects beginning to take effect.
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