“I was waiting until the end of the season so I didn’t add to the stress of everything else he had going on with you guys and then the injury,” I eventually answered Seth’s question as I looked up at him. “After he came back from Miami, he practically moved into the team facility, and now they just keep winning, prolonging it.”
“You don’t need to explain anything to me, Roe,” he assured me, holding his hands up in surrender. “I get why you haven’t, and you also know how I feel about the whole situation. I just needed to know what level of pissed-offness we’re gonna be dealing with when he gets home . . . which is at what time exactly?”
“I think the team plane is scheduled to land early this afternoon, around one or two,” I replied.
Seth began pacing the floor, scrubbing his hands over his face. “Right, okay then. So back to the three issues. First is dealing with an enraged, completely irrational, ready-to-turn-into-the-Incredible-Hulk Colin when he gets home. Second, we need to figure out how someone was able to get that picture from your backyard. We can call the security monitoring service and get the video feed from last night. If you know about what time this was taken, that’ll help. It can’t undo the damage that’s been done, but if you can identify who took it and have evidence he was trespassing, you can press charges.”
“What’s the third?” I asked.
He looked over at Oliver and frowned. “Figuring out how to get him out of here with the media already camped out in the front,” he said solemnly.
“In the front?!” I shouted at the same time Oliver exclaimed, “I’m not going anywhere!”
The pacing stopped and Seth glowered at both of us. “Yes, out front,” he answered me first. “What did you expect? Your face is plastered on the front page of every daily in print and on every news channel you turn to, locally and nationally.”
“But—” I tried to interject, but was immediately shot down.
“No but anything! This is a huge fucking story, Monroe. Your husband is the starting quarterback for one of the teams in the upcoming Super Bowl, and last night, while he was off busy winning the city an AFC Championship, you were banging your coworker in your house, using a sick kid as an excuse to stay here with your lover. The whole story is right here.” He picked up one of the papers and hit it with his other hand. “Somehow, they knew all of it . . . about JoJo and everything. They’re going to massacre both of you, your families. Mending Hearts is going to be called into question. I know you’re in shock right now, but I need you to realize how serious this is.”
Turning his attention to Oliver, he shook his head. “I know you want to stay with her. I can see that you love her and you don’t want her to face this shit alone, but you can’t help her here. She’s gotta do this with Colin, however they decide to approach it. You need to alert your family of what’s about to happen, because now that they have your name, it won’t take them long to start staking out your place too. Take them on a vacation or something, the farther away the better, and do it fast. ”
“I appreciate the advice, and I’m sure you know a lot more about this stuff than I do, but I’m not leaving her,” Oliver contended, squeezing my hand the entire time he spoke. “I’ll tell my family to leave, fine, but I’m not going anywhere. I knew the risks before I fell in love with her.”
Seth stalked over to the couch and sat down, lowering his eye level to ours where we knelt on the floor. “Listen to me, Oliver, man. Please,” he implored. “I’m not sure what all you know about her and Colin’s relationship, but obviously you know it’s not a marriage in the normal sense, ‘cause you’d be a real fucking asshole if you thought it was and you were sleeping with some guy’s wife. And I’m pretty sure you’re not a real fucking asshole, because Monroe wouldn’t like you if you were, and I have a pretty good inkling she loves you as much as you love her. So with all that being said, I’m interested in keeping you alive for my girl Monroe’s sake here, but I can promise you, if you are in this house when Colin gets home, he will kill you. He may not mean to. He probably just wants to hurt you really, really bad, but he’s a strong motherfucker, and if he gets his hands on you, you’re a dead man. And then, I’m gonna have four issues to worry about instead of just three, and I really don’t feel like adding murder to the list today. So for the sake of everyone involved, please allow me to somehow sneak you out of this house and then get your ass on a plane to Mexico, or Puerto Rico, or where-the-fuck-ever as quickly as possible. It’s the only way any of this has any chance of working out. Please trust me.”
Oliver twisted toward me, cupping my face in his hands and resting his forehead on mine. “Monroe, what do you want me to do? I don’t want to leave your side, but I’ll do whatever you want.”
The hope swimming in his eyes gutted me. He wanted me to tell him to stay, and I wanted nothing more than to be able to say those words to him. But I couldn’t. And it fucking killed me to hurt him.
“I’m so sorry, Ollie, but Seth’s right,” I rasped, my voice cracking. “I need to talk to Colin one-on-one. He deserves that from me.”
“That’s fine. Talk to him without me, but don’t ask me to leave the city. I need to be here for you,” he beseeched.
Placing a gentle kiss on his mouth, I smiled sadly. “I want you here; you know I do. But me asking you to stay is selfish, and I can’t do that. I won’t.”
“Don’t do this!” he hissed. “We knew this wasn’t gonna be easy, and the first roadblock we hit, you just want to send me packing? I thought we were in this together?”
“We are! And I’m not sending you packing! At least not permanently!” I scooted back, frustration setting in as hot tears stung my eyes and splashed on my lap. “Please, Oliver, I’m begging you not to make this harder than it already is. Setting aside the incomprehensible level of mortification I feel, and focus on the fact that the entire world currently thinks I used a little girl—who is still lying in a hospital bed fighting for her life—as a pretext to stay home and be a cheating slut behind my husband’s back. That doesn’t even take into account the fallout Allison and Mending Hearts is going to have because of this, and don’t forget about your staff and kids at the Chicago house. I’m sure it won’t be long before they hear you referred to as a home-wrecker, among a slew of other nasty things, on TV or see it on social media. And when they start talking bad about you, I’m gonna lose it . . .” I paused, reaching out to tenderly touch his cheek. “This isn’t just a roadblock, baby. There’s a mountain range sitting in front of us, and right now, we need to focus on meeting on the other side.”
Defeat washed over his handsome face as he stood up. “All right, if that’s what you want, I’ll go.” Turning to Seth, he nodded grudgingly. “Let me get my shoes and stuff from upstairs. Just tell me what to do.”
Twenty minutes later, Seth had devised a plan to sneak Oliver out undetected, and after a single kiss and one last “I love you,” the love of my life was gone. And I had no idea when I’d see or talk to him again.
“nothing brings
to life
again
a forgotten
memory
like fragrance”
–Christopher Poindexter
Oliver
“WHEN YOU TOLD me she had things tying her to Boston, I didn’t think you meant a husband!” my mom shouted through the phone before even saying hello, clearly having either seen or heard the news.
Wincing at her ear-piercing scream, I huddled farther into the corner of the airport where I was waiting for the next standby seat available to St. Louis. “Hi, Mom,” I replied in a low voice, careful no one around could hear me. “Sorry I couldn’t return your fourteen phone calls until now. I’ve had a rather busy morning.”
“Oliver Bradley, I am in no mood for your smart mouth today,” she snipped, and without even seeing her, I knew she had her left hand cocked on her hip. “You better start talking fast, son, because if I have to tell one person who calls that I don’t know what the hell is
going on, I may permanently remove your penis so you can never stick it inside any woman—married or not—again.”
“Mom, please listen to me. I promise I can explain everything, but not over the phone.” I paused, shuffling out of the way as several people passed by to the gate waiting area. “Look, I’m at the airport now, waiting for a flight so I can come there for a while, until everything dies down. Once I’m home, I’ll tell you everything, but I just wanted to check on you guys and let you know I’m on my way. When I have a definite flight, I’ll text you the info.”
She relayed what I said to my dad then got back on the phone. “What do you want me to say to the news-people who keep calling and asking for an interview? It’s crazy, Oliver. We can’t turn the TV on without seeing your face. What’s gonna happen with your job? Are you gonna move back home? What if her husband tries to kill you?”
“Stop with the dramatics, Ma. Come on. Just don’t answer the phone if you don’t know who it is, and don’t answer the door until I get there. I honestly have no idea what’s gonna happen with anything—her, my job—it’s all up in the air, but whatever happens, I’ll get through it. One day at a time. Just like we did with Dad. For right now, though, I need you to trust me and support me on this. Okay?”
“Okay, Ollie,” her voice softened. “I’m just worried about you. I get all Momma Bear when people talk bad about my kids, and I didn’t know what was going on, which made me freak out a little. But I do know you love her after the way you talked about her at Christmas, so you do whatever you think is the right thing. Your dad, your sisters, and I always have your back.”
Exhaling a sigh of relief, I whispered, “Thanks, Mom. I love you. I’ll text you soon.”
“Love you too.”
I disconnected the call and scanned the waiting area, searching for a place to sit where no one would pay much attention to me. The place was rather full, leaving only a handful of empty chairs for me to choose from. With my baseball cap pulled low over my eyes, I moved toward the one farthest from the main walkway and on the end of a row. The seat next to it was occupied by a little girl, maybe five or six years old, traveling with whom I assumed was her mom, both seemingly engrossed in their tablets. Figuring the child would probably pay me little mind, I sat down, offered a polite smile in their general direction without making eye contact, and then twisted my body away from them. With my legs angled toward the window, I kept my gaze focused low as I pretended to read a random book I’d snagged at the gift shop. The last thing I wanted was to be recognized as the guy who had destroyed Clutch Cassidy’s marriage, and if the Patriots ended up losing the Super Bowl, the guy who cost the city of Boston their championship. Especially while I was still in Boston, where they might’ve considered reinstating public flogging just for me.
Blankly staring down at the first page, I zoned out as I ran through the checklist in my mind of everything I needed to do, trying my best to keep the emotions at bay. The whirlwind of unexpected events that morning had turned my world upside down. From Seth’s wake-up visit, to sneaking out of Monroe’s house, then hastily throwing a bunch of clothes in a duffel bag and getting dropped off at the departure area, my brain was on autopilot, performing the necessary actions, but remaining emotionally numb throughout the process. I couldn’t allow myself to feel, because that most likely would’ve led to a meltdown of epic proportions, and that helped no one.
“I want ice cream, Mommy. Can we go get it now?” I heard the little girl say, but didn’t pay much attention as my phone vibrated in my pocket, alerting me of an incoming text. Hopeful it would be from Monroe, now that I knew she had gotten a replacement phone, I hastily fished it out and read the message.
Allison: I just spoke with Monroe, so I’m up to speed on everything. I’m flying out to Boston ASAP to see how I can help. You take care of yourself right now, and we’ll talk later.
Unsure how to interpret her tone, I started to type out a reply, but my phone buzzed again.
Allison: And in case you’re stressing, I’m not upset with either of you, nor am I really surprised, but Mending Hearts has to remain my top priority, and right now, it’s a mess. I’ve got nearly fifty kids depending on me to act in their best interest. I’m praying it works out for all of us.
A small portion of me relaxed after reading her second message, finding some comfort in knowing that my boss and mentor didn’t completely hate my guts for jeopardizing everything she’d worked her entire adult life for. I must admit I wasn’t so sure I would’ve been as understanding as she was, but I was thankful nonetheless.
Me: Thank you. I’ll keep you updated with where I am and anything of note as this plays out. At airport now, headed to my parents.
Dropping my phone back in my pocket, I returned my gaze to the book and stared at the words Chapter One for I don’t know how long, lost in thought about how Monroe was holding up, wishing I was there with her. As much as I’d grown to like and respect Seth in the short amount of time we’d spent together, I couldn’t help but think it should’ve been me there comforting her through that tumultuous day, not to mention I felt a little bit like a pussy not manning up and confronting Colin myself.
A sudden gasp followed by an icy cold sensation on my thigh startled me from my thoughts, and instinctively, my eyes snapped over to my leg to see what had happened. Before my brain could make sense of the frozen orange blob sitting atop my jeans, I got a whiff of the intoxicating citrus scent that made my heart swell and my stomach flip. The scent that I wanted to smell on her skin every night when I fell asleep and the same one I wanted to wake up to each morning when I rolled over and buried my face in her pillow, trying to drown out her terrible singing while she dressed.
Cutting my attention over to the small child with big brokenhearted tears rolling down her cheeks and an empty orange creamsicle container in her hands, I smiled for the first time all day. A real, true, honest-to-God smile.
The one thing I had been praying for all day was a sign, some sort of direction on what the right thing to do was. For her. For me. For us.
And the answer had literally just fallen into my lap.
“I’m sorry, Sir. I didn’t mean to,” she sniffled.
“No worries, princess. Nothing that can’t be fixed,” I said softly as I grabbed my wallet, pulled out a five-dollar bill, and handed it to her. It was the least I could do, since God had sacrificed her treat to show me my path. “Luckily, I’ve got a change of clothes in my bag here, and you can take that to go get another ice cream, if your mom says it’s okay.”
As she twisted around to ask her mom’s permission, I stood up and grabbed my duffel, not caring in the least that I had an amoeba-shaped wet spot on my pants. The girl and her mother both thanked me and apologized, and again, without meeting either of their gazes, I told them it was no big deal and excused myself to change. And eventually, I did . . . once I was safely back in my apartment that gratefully still hadn’t been discovered by the outside world, a mystery I could only assume was because the lease was in Allison’s name and not mine.
After calling my mom back to tell her about the change of plans, I decided not to alert Monroe or Seth right away about my decision to stay. I wasn’t quite sure what my plan was yet, but I knew I needed to be in Boston for whenever it was revealed to me. So while I waited, I made myself a bowl of Captain Crunch and chocolate milk and watched Grease for the 28,517th time, confident my Rizzo would be next to me for the 28,518th.
“I thought
as the sun
lifted once
more from
the sea,
of how truly
heartbreaking
it is that we
all feel so heavy,
and yet,
somehow,
so damn
empty.”
–Christopher Poindexter
Monroe
I COULDN’T STOP staring at the clock on the microwave, the numbers displaying a countdown on a ticking time b
omb. Colin was due to walk through the door at any minute, and I was a fucking wreck. I had no idea what to expect, what he was going to say. When Seth had called and woken him up with the news of everything, preparing him for what awaited him once he left his hotel room, Colin had refused to speak to me, telling Seth it was best if he had some time to cool down and work through his anger first. Although it stung, I couldn’t blame him much. He’d been blindsided by the entire thing and was probably in a state of shock.
“You still haven’t heard back from the security company?” Seth asked, glancing over his shoulder at me from where he stood at the stove, cooking tomato soup and grilled cheese sandwiches for us. I’d told him repeatedly I wasn’t hungry, knowing if I tried to put anything in my mouth, it would only come right back up. But he wouldn’t take no for an answer, and I didn’t have the energy to argue with him.
I looked down to the kitchen island at the replacement phone Seth had picked up for me when he’d snuck Oliver out earlier, ensuring I hadn’t missed a call, then shook my head. “No, not yet.”
The representative had said it would take some time for them to review the feed, but I thought we’d have definitely heard something after almost four hours and have at least something positive to tell Colin when he arrived. Unfortunately, that wasn’t the case.
“What about Oliver? Any update from him?” he probed.
Sighing, I pulled up the text history. “The last message he sent was that he was at the airport on standby for the next flight to St. Louis to go talk to his parents. He said the security officer did a double-take when he checked his ID, but he wasn’t sure if it was because he recognized his name, or how different he looks without a beard and with his hair pulled up in a hat. Other than that, he hasn’t been recognized.”
“Good,” Seth nodded, “though I’m sure it won’t take the vultures long to find him, if they’re not waiting on him already.”
I shuddered at the thought of the paparazzi stalking Oliver and his family. He didn’t deserve this. They didn’t deserve this. I never meant for anyone to get hurt; I just fell in love and became blind to everything else. I acted selfishly, and now others were paying the price.