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“Nothing you can do if she doesn’t return the same feelings,” I said. “Honestly, if the feeling is mutual it doesn’t take much more than that.”
“I’m sure of it. I saw the way she looked at me.”
“Okay, so why are you pacing the floor and driving yourself insane?” I chuckled.
“Dean says to play it cool, but I don’t know how long I can hold out. This girl…this girl drives me crazy. I can’t stop thinking about her.”
“When did you talk to Dean?” I smiled at the thought of the two talking about girl problems. It warmed my heart to know he cared.
“He’s come by once or twice a week every time I’ve been admitted,” he said, matter of fact, as if I should have known better. I sat stunned as my chest expanded with love and admiration for my man. He had remained in touch with Ollie and decided not to tell me about his visits. He wasn’t doing it for my benefit, or because he knew how I felt about Ollie, but because he enjoyed Ollie’s company.
Dean Martin. Sigh.
After close to an hour of consoling a near desperate Ollie, I left his room only to see a tiny blonde, very close to the description he had given me, lightly rap on his door.
“Play it cool, Ollie,” I whispered under my breath as she went in. I wondered if they knew how easily a few minutes of time together at such a young age could change everything.
Of course they didn’t.
That was one of the best things about life. It was completely unpredictable, and love was even more so. I couldn’t help but recall how just one look at Dean Martin in my high school hall had so much bearing on my future. It seemed Ollie had been taken by Anna the same way.
I prayed right then with everything in me that Ollie would live to experience the amazing gift that came with immersing yourself in that type of love. That he would get the chance to experience that with someone worthy of him, and that maybe he wouldn’t have such a hard time recognizing and holding on to it as Dean and I had.
Then again, how could you recognize the importance of that type of love if you have never lost it? I was instantly filled with gratitude for every tear I had shed over Dean Martin, every hour of waiting. In that moment, I felt justified for every single growing pain I had endur
ed in loving him.
With a renewed sense of hope, I found myself on his floor in the hopes of a few stolen moments
I knocked lightly on his office door and opened it. He was leaning over his desk next to a beautiful brunette. They shared a collective smile as they looked up at me.
Helena.
I knew it was her instantly. Dean’s smile slowly disappeared as he studied my rapidly paling face. My blood was boiling. A possessiveness toward the man I loved and my future came rushing to the surface. He had never ever given me a reason to believe he would be unfaithful. Still my urge to protect my new and hard-earned happiness forced me to confront my fear head on.
“What the hell are you doing?” I asked crossly. They weren’t far apart, and though Dean seemed oblivious, her posture was intimate. I narrowed my eyes.
“What business is it of yours?” the brunette said, her perfectly painted lips pursed. She was absolutely stunning and an even bigger surge of jealously struck me at the realization.
“Because I fucking love the man standing next to you and I want to know,” I said honestly, no longer willing to let time, misunderstanding, or anything else come between us. I stood there, shaking my knees weak, feeling completely vulnerable and like the jealous fool I was being.
“Nothing is going on, Dallas,” she said with a sad smile. “I was just leaving. Thank you for the check, Dean.” She brushed past me with a sarcastic filled, “Good Luck.” I took in a breath and let a single tear run down my cheek.
Dean seemed alarmed with our exchange, but quickly ushered her to the door, giving her a warm smile as she left. She leaned in to him for a hug, which he rebuffed, keeping his eyes trained on me.
He shut the door, pausing briefly before turning around to eye me. “That was uncalled for, don’t you think?” He took a seat in his chair behind his desk.
I made absolutely no attempt to stop myself. I climbed into his lap and brought my lips to his, still tearful. “What is it, Dallas? Why would you react that way? Helena is not a threat to you.”
“What was she doing here?”
“We sold our place in New York and had to sign the papers and split the funds. I didn’t realize she would come in person,” he said.
“She’s still in love with you.”
“It doesn’t matter.”
“I’m not going to apologize for hating her,” I said, pulling him closer.
