Page 99 of The Temporary Fiancée
I turn to leave his office, closing the door behind me. I didn’t agree to the interview, but I know he’ll still expect us to go along with it. As far as I’m concerned, the issue was left unresolved.
But one thing is clear. My father isn’t willing to give Olivia a single inch of leeway. Just as I was afraid of, he sees her as nothing more than a prop, here to serve a purpose—and he won’t settle for a partial performance.
I’ve gotten somewhat usedto Olivia greeting me when I come home from work. Most of the time, she’ll be in the living room, hard at work on one of her knitting projects. She always seemshappy to see me, and I’ll be honest—it’s nice to have company after work. Much better than coming home to an empty penthouse.
Tonight, though, Olivia isn’t knitting. She doesn’t look up as I round the corner from the hallway.
She’s on the couch, curled up into a ball, wearing my hoodie and sweatpants. They’re huge on her, of course, more like blankets cocooning her than clothes. Her face is red, like she’s been crying.
I feel as though I just swallowed a ball of lead. “Olivia? What’s wrong?”
She sniffles a little, looking up at me. I’ve never seen her this upset before; her sadness is palpable, coming off of her in waves.
“It’s fine,” she says, pushing herself upright and swiping at her eyes. “It’s just… my mom had a bad day.”
I sit down next to her on the couch, laying a tentative arm over her shoulders. “What happened?”
“Some days are worse than others,” Olivia tells me, her voice breaking. “Today was one of the worst. When she’s tired, and in a lot of pain… she’s just not herself. She… she snaps at people, and…”
Olivia trails off, and I pull my arm tighter around her shoulders, hugging her close. I don’t know what to do. She seems so miserable, and it makes my chest ache in a way that I’ve never felt before.
It’s awful. I want nothing more than to comfort her, but I can’t fix this, no matter how much I’d like to. No matter how much I spend on her mother’s treatment program, no matter how many specialists I hire, Maura will still be struggling with MS.
I don’t know what to do about this helpless, desperate feeling, but my instincts are screaming for me to do whatever it takes to make Olivia feel better.
So I say, “Let me take care of you tonight.”
She gives me a startled look, her eyes still teary. “What?”
“Just… trust me.” I give her shoulder a squeeze. “I’ll run you a hot bath.”
She hesitates, but then nods. She allows me to help her up off the couch and guide her into my room, where she waits on the edge of the bed while I draw up a bubble bath in the huge tub.
She sits cross-legged, watching me walk in and out of the bathroom, gathering up everything I can think of that would make this bath more pleasant.
I get some lavender-scented tea candles from the guest bathroom in the hallway and line the sides of the tub with them. I pour a hefty amount of the bubble bath into the tub, and by the time it’s filled with hot water, the cloud of foam towers several feet above the edge of the tub.
Satisfied, I head back out into my bedroom. Olivia has stripped off her clothes, which are in a pile beside the bed. She lets me scoop her up into my arms, and I carry her back into the bathroom, gently lowering her into the bath.
She sighs as the water reaches her shoulders, tipping her head back and closing her eyes. I step out of my jeans and shrug off my shirt, then touch her shoulder lightly.
“Move forward a little. I’ll join you.”
With a feeble smile, she obliges, leaving enough space for me to sink into the water behind her. She settles back against me.
“Are you comfortable?” I ask.
“Yes,” she says quietly. “Very.”
“Good.” Without thinking, I begin to massage her shoulders. She breathes in a huge breath, leaning her head against my chest.
“Thank you,” she says, her voice barely audible. “I didn’t mean to bring you down, or anything. I just…”
“It’s okay. You don’t have to thank me for anything. You seemed like you needed this.”
She turns her head, flashing me a grateful smile. “I did. But that’s why I’m thanking you.”
Her skin is smooth against mine in the water. A now-common thought flashes through my mind:I’m so glad I chose her. I’m so glad she agreed to this.I don’t think I could’ve done it with anyone else. Sharing my home with Olivia has become second nature; even now, there’s no awkwardness between us, despite the vulnerability of nakedness.
