Page 74 of Mending Hearts
I show them the guest rooms, the bathrooms, the kitchen. Amelia claims a window seat immediately, face pressed to the glass.
Phil claps his hands once. “We cooking?”
“You don’t have to—” I start.
He waves me off. “I want to. We’ll grab groceries.”
Lindy nods. “We’ll take Amelia. Give you two a minute.”
Ollie’s shoulders tighten just slightly at that, but he nods. They’re gone within ten minutes, the door closing behind them, house settling into a quieter kind of stillness. Just me and Ollie.
He exhales slowly. “I’ve got to make the call.”
“I know.”
I move into the kitchen and start boiling water. It’s something to do. Something grounding. I make two mugs of tea, bring them into the living room where the couches face the windows. Ollie sits on the edge of one, phone in his hands like it’s a live grenade.
“I can give you space,” I offer.
His head snaps up. “No.” The word is immediate. Honest. “Stay?” he adds, softer.
I see it then—the fear. Not of being outed. Not of headlines. Of doing this alone.
I sit beside him, close enough that our knees touch. His leg is bouncing, fast. I place a hand on his thigh without thinking, a steady weight. He exhales like he’s been holding his breath for days.
The phone rings, and he answers on speaker, voice tense. “Hi. It’s Ollie.”
A calm, professional voice answers. “Hey, Ollie. It’s Pat from PR. We’ve also got Sam from HR on, and your agent looped in as well. You good?”
“I’m—yeah. I’m good.”
“You don’t sound good.”
He huffs. “Rough night.”
“We’ve seen the coverage,” Pat gently. “We’re glad you’re safe.”
“Thanks.”
A pause follows before she continues, “Do you want to make a statement?”
“No,” Ollie says immediately. “I don’t want to do interviews either.”
“That’s fine,” she says. “You don’t have to.”
Relief floods his face.
“Have you spoken to the team?” Pat asks.
He shakes his head even though she can’t see him. “Not yet. I will. I don’t want anyone feeling blindsided.”
“You won’t be letting anyone down,” she says firmly.
Ollie swallows. “I also understand if you want to remove the captaincy.”
My jaw tightens. I squeeze his thigh once.
“That’s not necessary,” she replies immediately. “You’re still our captain.”
