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“I love them. I can’t wait to give it to Paul. He might propose.” She steps back into the changing area to change out of the lingerie.
“I’m sorry I have to catch up to Alden, but we can look through them tomorrow and pick what you want in print, okay?”
She steps out, putting her hair up. “Sure. Do you want me to go with you to Oliver’s?”
After considering it for a minute, I shake my head. “No, I don’t think we want it to seem like we’re having a full on intervention with all his friends, you know? Let his brother try first.”
“Well, let me know if it gets to that. I know Oliver and I haven’t been that close since we were kids, but I’m still here if he needs me.”
“You’re the best.”
Oliver has friends who care about him and that’s what he needs to realize. I think about it on my way over to his apartment. Getting the studio ready on top of working my real estate job has been a juggling act that’s kept me preoccupied these last weeks. But not too distracted to notice how unhappy Oliver is. Trying to talk with him gets me nothing but curt replies. I’m not optimistic about how he’ll react to us now.
Alden’s truck sits in the parking lot beside Oliver’s car. He must already be inside. I park and walk toward the corner apartment. The door bursts open when I reach to knock and Alden stalks through it. That’s not a good sign.
“Is everything okay?” I ask.
Alden sits on the step and runs his hands through his hair. “He won’t listen to a fucking thing I say. His apartment is a pigsty. I needed to walk away for a second before I pop him in his mouth.”
“Is he drunk now?”
Alden shakes his head. “I don’t think so.”
Alden and Oliver butt heads a lot over one thing or another. Maybe he isn’t the best person to confront him about his drinking. “Stay out here and let me try to talk to him, okay?”
“Good luck. Stubborn fucker.”
“Yeah, well, so am I.”
Alden sits outside while I enter. Oliver stands in the doorway that separates the living room from the kitchen, his arms crossed, leaning against a wall. “Yeah, don’t bother to knock. Just come on in,” he says, glaring at me.
“Would you have let me in if I knocked?”
“No.”
“And that’s why I didn’t knock.” Wow, Alden wasn’t kidding. This place is a mess. Very unlike Oliver. “I’m worried about you.”
“I’m fine. As you can see. You’ve done your duty. You can go.”
I walk through his living room, dodging the food wrappers, empty drink containers, and other random clutter. He watches me with caution when I mimic his defensive stance, crossing my arms and leaning on the wall beside him. “Is that what you think I should do? Hmm? Is that your professional opinion on how to handle things when one of your friends is struggling?” He wants to be sarcastic? I can meet him there.
“I’m not struggling. Despite what Alden told you.”
“This doesn’t have anything to do with Alden.”
“Sure it does,” he says bitterly. “He wants me to stop drinking. God forbid Alden doesn’t get what he wants.”
Pain lives in his voice no matter how much he’s trying to disguise it with anger. “What do you want, Oliver?” I gesture around the room. “You want me to leave, for us to act like everything is okay? Let you continue this downward spiral?”
“I can’t have what I want, and what the fuck do you care, Ella?” he snaps, and starts to walk away.
Instinct dictates my next move, not thought. I grab him in a hug. He stiffens and starts to take a step back. My arms tighten around him, and I can feel how thin he’s gotten over the last few weeks. My cheek is pressed against his chest. “I care, Oliver. Of course I do. I can’t stand to see you so miserable.”
After a long hesitation, he sighs and puts an arm around me. He runs his hand over my head silently.
“You can talk to me. Whatever it is that’s bothering you, maybe I can help.”
Regret reflects on his face when he looks down at me and shakes his head. “You can’t help. You don’t understand.”
