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“I’d love to.”
“Come on, I’ll drive and bring you back to your car later.”
We decide on a steakhouse not too far away. Oliver parks the car and puts his arm around me while we walk to the doors.
I’m surprised when I spot Breanna standing in front of the Italian restaurant across the street until I remember she works there. It’s on the tip of my tongue to point her out but why make things awkward again? She doesn’t seem to see us, and Oliver doesn’t notice her.
Our hostess seats us at a table near the front window where we can watch the activity on Main Street. Couples wander past hand in hand. Christmas lights have gone up over the weekend, and they cast a glow over the sidewalks full of people. Frenzied shoppers rush back and forth. It’s barely December but Christmas seems to be everywhere overnight.
“Have you seen an increase in interest at your studio yet?” he asks.
“It’s been a madhouse. I’m booked solid. If it continues like this, I may have to hire some part time help around the place. Someone to answer the phones and straighten up when I don’t have time.”
A smile lights up his face. “I’m happy for you. You deserve a break.”
“Don’t we both,” I breathe, as our food is placed in front of us. Once we dig in, I ask, “Wasn’t your appointment today?”
“With the forensic shrink? Yeah.” He sips his drink. “It took forever. He examined me for over four hours, and then a woman came in to add another hour’s worth of questions.”
That sounds awful. “They asked about what happened?”
He shakes his head and swallows a bite of steak. “No, it was a bunch of mental assessments. It was weird as hell. He had me say as many animals as I could think of then put a list of words in alphabetical order.”
“You’re kidding. Was it an IQ test?”
“I couldn’t tell you. It felt like a Kindergarten class,” he chuckles. “He gave me some kind of puzzle to solve then asked me to count by sevens. When I first went in, he had me draw a clock on a piece of paper, then told me to remember three words until he asked me to recite them again later. I swear, I was waiting for them to tell me to do the hokey pokey.”
“So, if you can count and draw, you can defend yourself in court? That’s nuts.”
“The woman psychologist was a little different. She asked me about current events like who the president is, and then read out some scenarios where I had to choose what the right thing to do would be. It was super obvious what answers they wanted for those.” He rubs his fingers over his chin. “I wonder if they might use that to weed out the people who are trying to fail on purpose. Because who would actually say that the thief or attacker in their stories was in the right?”
“"If a man deliberately shit himself mid-test, I'm guessing more than one has claimednot to know stealing is wrong.” He looks up at me and we both break into laughter. “It didn’t have any relation to the case or your memories at all?” I clarify.
“Didn’t seem to.”
“Well, I’m glad it’s over.”
He nods, wiping his mouth with his napkin. “Lowell said it can normally take up to four weeks to get the results back and for the doctors to send their statements to the judge. During the holidays like this, it could be even longer.”
My frustration and impatience eat at me. I can only imagine how much worse it is for him when it’s his life at stake. I reach over and rub his arm. “It’s cruel the way they drag things out.” Guilt crawls over me. “I’m sorry that I’m adding to your stress, Oliver. I know I am.”
“No.” He squeezes my hand. “You aren’t stressing me out, Ella. I miss you but we’re okay. You can’t help how you feel any more than I can. You’re grieving and everything is a fucking mess. We can take our time and figure things out. I don’t want you to feel guilty. And I want to know when we’re together, it’s because you want me, not because you’re missing Alden.”
“I know. I miss you too.” Sighing, I sit back in my seat. “Sometimes, I do feel guilty. Not only because of what happened between us. I feel guilty that I’m out here living my life, getting on with things, when I wasn’t sure that was even possible. I feel guilty that I can have good things happen to me, that I can feel happy when Alden isn’t here to share it. I feel guilty that there are times when I look at you that I do see him or hear his voice. It’s only for a second, and not because I want you to be him but because you’re so similar sometimes. Your facial expressions and humor.”
My words are dragging his lips into a frown. Leaning forward, I take both of his hands in mine, holding them tight, and he looks me in the eye. “But I see you too. We never had this…spark or connection between us before. You’re different too, Oliver. You’ve changed and I adore the new parts of you along with the old. I’m trying so hard not to do the wrong thing and hurt you, but more and more, I’m not sure what’s right. I need you to know your feelings aren’t one sided. I’m right with you, and I’m doing my best to sort my shit out.”
A tear leaks out of my eye despite my attempt to hold them back. Great, I’m crying in a restaurant. Embarrassing us both. “My worst fear right now is losing you altogether so please don’t doubt how I feel about you.”
Oliver runs his thumb over my cheek, wiping the tear away. “I’m not going anywhere if I can help it, Ella.”
CHAPTER4
The next week is wonderful. I’m so busy with all my photo shoots that I fall into bed every night exhausted and content.
A lesson I should’ve learned by now is that happiness is temporary. Something is always waiting to smack it down in the dirt. This time it’s a social media post.
Saturdays are my busiest days, and it’s after seven when my last client leaves. After back-to-back appointments since early this morning, I’m dead on my feet. Tori and I are going out tonight to celebrate, and a few drinks sound amazing.
