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15
Magnetism
Charlotte
The last person I expected to see coming in through the door is Oliver. While I’m glad to see him, and appreciate his apology, I don’t understand why he’s here now. He’s supposed to be with his family, celebrating Thanksgiving.
My next thought is that he’s here because he feels sorry for me. That idea fills me with a mixture of annoyance and discomfort. I don’t want his pity. I’m embarrassed by it.
I’m also not sure why he’s apologizing. Is it because he left me alone for Thanksgiving or because he ignored me for the last few days? I suppose it doesn’t matter because his avoidance of me started when I treated him poorly at my office, which means I’m the one that should be saying sorry.
“I shouldn’t have attacked you the way I did in my office,” I say to him. “Which is not to say that I’m okay with you talking to my clients about plastic surgery, but I shouldn’t have jumped on you the way that I did.”
He gives a subtle nod. “Thank you, I appreciate that. And I’m sorry I was immature and ignored you. And now that we have that out of the way, I brought some delicious home-cooked Thanksgiving dinner. Have you eaten yet?”
“I did eat something a little while ago, but I wouldn’t mind a home-cooked Thanksgiving.”
He smiles and straightens, motioning with his hand toward the table. “Your dinner is ready.” He makes his way to the kitchen, now completely at home in it, as he gathers plates and utensils and brings them to the table.
I rise from the couch, realizing that I’m wearing yoga pants and a long-sleeved t-shirt which doesn’t quite go with his dark slacks and button shirt. Deciding there was nothing I can do to look better since he’s already here, I go to the kitchen for the wine.
“Would you like some wine?” I ask him.
“I would.”
I get him a glass and bring it and the bottle to the table, pour us each a glass while he sets plates out and empties the contents of the bag.
We begin to eat and even without reheating, the food is delicious.
“Madeline’s grandmother knows how to cook,” I comment.
“She’s quite a spitfire, that woman,” Oliver says as he sips the wine.
We eat in silence for a few minutes, but then I finally ask, “Why are you here?”
He stops mid-bite of stuffing and arches a brow at me. “I live here.”
“But it’s Thanksgiving. You should be with your brother and Madeline and her family.” I look down and move the mashed potatoes around with my fork because I’m feeling a little bit vulnerable. “Are you here because you feel sorry for me? Because I’m here all by myself?”
He doesn’t say anything right away, so I lift my gaze to get an idea of what he might be thinking.
“I wonder what answer is the one you least want to hear. The one where I say that I felt bad about leaving you alone because no one should be alone on Thanksgiving?”
I don’t like that one, even if it is true.
“Or the one in which I could tell you I’m here because I want to be here with you.”
I sit for a moment, wondering what he means by that. If he wants to be here, I like that. But maybe he means it to be more than friendly, in which case I still like it, but it does unsettle me.
He laughs softly. “The truth is, I am here for a combination of reasons including that I felt guilty for the way I’ve been behaving the last few days, especially when I learned that you were here by yourself when I was supposed to have invited you to Thanksgiving. Also, Theo asked Madeline to marry him tonight, and I thought that he was now part of their family. They needed their space to celebrate that.”
“You’re Theo’s brother, so you are family.”
He shakes his head. “I feel like a third wheel lot when I’m with those two. I don’t mean that they make me feel that way. I know they wouldn’t like me saying that, but it is what it is. I might be a mismatched wheel with you, but I don’t feel completely like the odd man out.”
His answer makes sense. “Well, I guess these two mismatched wheels won’t be alone on Thanksgiving,” I say.
“You know we’ve been playing fake fiancés, and yet somehow I didn’t know that you didn’t have any family.”
