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Her question shook me, and I felt my cheeks heating up from the comment.
“Reese, no, we are—”
“Yes, I love her,” Oliver cut in, giving Reese his smile that made me feel everything all at once. I turned his way, my eyes widened from shock. He gave me his dopey, tired grin and took my hands into his and squeezed ever so lightly. “I love every part of you, Em.”
My heart flipped, kicked, and leaped inside my chest. I wasn’t ready for that, but truthfully, was anyone ever ready to find out that the person they loved, loved them back? It felt like the biggest dream coming true.
“I love you, too,” I said, feeling as if my cheeks were going to burst from happiness. I wanted to lean in and kiss him, but I knew that might’ve been too much to do in front of Reese. Especially since she’d just found us in bed with one another.
“What about me, Mr. Mith? Do you love me, too?” Reese asked.
Oliver smirked big and pulled Reese into a hug. “Yeah, kid, I love you too.”
Reese began to giggle as Oliver tickled her, making her wiggle all over the place. “Okay, okay, stop!” she screamed out, twisting and turning. This was one of those moments in life when I forgot all my troubles. Moments when the world seemed to stand still and every good thought aligned as one. As the three of us rolled around in bed, this was one of those moments. A moment that would forever live in my heart.
It was funny how those moments could make me forget about all the other troubles I was facing in my life. For a second, I’d forgotten all about the drama that my parents and Sammie had laid at my doorstep.
It felt as if Reese, Oliver, and I were creating our own family, with our own rules. We were creating one of my favorite songs on my mixtape. Just the three of us, and our happiness.
After a few seconds of lying across both Oliver and me, catching her breath, Reese said, “Hey, Mr. Mith?”
“Yeah, kid?”
“Does that make you my dad now?”
Welp.
That seemed a little too much for that morning’s conversation. Oliver’s mouth was agape, and it was clear he didn’t know what to say, so I wrapped Reese into a tight hug and snuggled her. “How about we talk about this at a later time, and for now we go make some waffles?” I offered.
Reese’s face lit up. “With chocolate chips?”
“Yes, with chocolate chips. Let me get up to get started and—”
Reese shook her head and hopped out of bed. “No, Mama. I want Mr. Mith to make me the waffles this time.”
I raised an eyebrow. “I thought you loved my waffles.”
“I do, but I want to love Mr. Mith’s too,” she said matter-of-factly. She held her hand out toward Oliver and pulled him out of bed. “Come on, let’s get started.”
Without another word, the two were walking off toward the kitchen to get started cooking. I could hear their voices as I lay in bed. “I’m going to be honest, kid—I don’t know the last time I cooked waffles.”
“It’s okay. Even if they are nasty, I’ll still eat them because I love you now,” Reese said.
Oliver chuckled. “Well, that’s very nice of you.”
“I know, I’m a good person. And Mr. Mith?”
“Yeah, kid?”
“Stop calling me ‘kid.’”
The following two days came and went without any incidents from my parents and Sammie. For a minute, I thought they’d come to their senses and realized they needed to back off, but I wasn’t that lucky.
After Reese and I came home late one afternoon after spending time swimming in Oliver’s pool, I found a thick envelope sitting outside my door. Picking it up, I noticed the word “Emery” scribbled across the front of it. It was definitely in Mama’s handwriting, and that fact alone made acid start to rise from the pit of my stomach.
“What’s that?” Reese asked.
I smiled her way and patted her behind. “Nothing, sweetheart. Go pick out some pajamas so we can get you ready for bed, okay?”
Thankfully, she did as I said, and I headed into the apartment, nervous about what I was going to uncover in the envelope. After I ripped it open, my heart dropped as I read the letter:
Is this the man you are raising Reese around? This won’t look too positive for you in court. Make the right decision, and hand Reese over before things get messy.
Inside the envelope was article after article of Cam’s interviews about Oliver and the terrible made-up story lines she’d created. They spoke about Oliver’s spiral over the past few months. They spoke about his drug usage, which didn’t exist, and his cruelty toward her. They highlighted every false subject that Cam had made up about Oliver, and it made me sick to see those words lying against the page.
