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As soon as the door closes behind him, I sigh in relief. Now to get rid of Dot.
She slides back from the counter so I can see her from head to toe. “I’ve been meaning to talk to you, and now seems as good a time as any…” She places her hands on her flat belly with a single word. “Oliver.”
My hands tremble with misguided guilt, and I shove them into my pockets while forcing a puzzled expression. “What about him?”
God, I’m going to hell for the lies I’ve told in the past five minutes.
“You’ve got nothing to say for yourself? You’ve always wanted Oliver. Don’t think I didn’t notice.”
She isn’t wrong, and every jab of her pointer finger stabs at my culpable heart. Even if she was all wrong for him and made Oliver unhappy, she did have him first.
“Dot, I?—”
One hand slashes through the air in a kind of canceling motion. “Just shut up. I don’t want to hear your lies. I’m sure you’ve heard by now. We’re having a baby.”
Her silly smile and the way she rubs her hand in circles over her stomach make me sick. She tips her nose into the air as if to look down on me even though I’m five ten and tower over her.
Dot’s demeanor holds nothing but contempt. “He’s mine.”
As much as I want to tell her otherwise and yell for all to hear that I know the truth and that she has no claim on him, my lips remain tightly sealed.
And even still, the truth brings no comfort. It doesn’t stop the jagged claws of guilt from ripping into my chest. Why does it feel like I stole her fiancé? Like I cheated?
Stop it, Wren. That simply isn’t true.
Dot’s scorn-laden voice cuts through my unsettling thoughts. “This little Miss Innocent, doe-eyed act doesn’t work on me. He told me about you two. I know what’s going on, or whatyouwant to happen. I’m here to tell you to back the hell off. Stay away from him or I’ll make sure Bright Horizons never gets approved.”
She strides confidently toward the door, stopping with one hand on the handle to fire one more missile. “Oliver Winslow is mine.”
I stare at the back of her, marching out of the library, and an unsettling dread overcomes me. Hot, slippery bile clings to the back of my throat. Dot has all the power, and I’m no longer sure of the path to being with Oliver out in the open.
Chapter11
Oliver
Ishut the truck door and stand for a second under the pale moonlight, staring at Wren’s home. All the lights are out. The house is in darkness.
What else did I expect? It’s two in the morning and I should hope she’s asleep. It’s hard to believe the last time I was here was over two weeks ago. Only a few days after the gym when I thought everything was going to work out because I had Wren.
Now look at us. We’re supposed to be sneaking around, but I’ve been swamped with the Nest and getting the final sample finished for the potential deal with Mercury Boetiek. The sooner I get that signed, the better.
I miss Wren so much, want to see her, even if she’s sleeping. But will I be welcomed? I should go back to Eddie’s and try to fucking sleep, but I can't.
We’re both not doing so well with this self-imposed separation. While we talk and text daily, the physical distance has seeped into our virtual connections. All of our interactions are brief, and we only cover meaningless, surface stuff.
Both of us avoid talking about Dot. I haven’t seen or heard from my ex, and I’ve instructed Kendall, my lawyer, to hold off on the papers for ownership of the Nest. Based on what Pop said about not pushing the town name change threat, I’ve decided to leave Dot alone. Give her the impression she may be winning. I’m hoping the false sense of victory will buy us time and maybe, just maybe, lead to something I can use to get out from under her lies and threats.
But I’m going crazy not seeing Wren. That’s why I’m outside her house in the middle of the night, about to enter with the key she gave me.
I open the front door, my phone flashlight on, and I’m immediately faced with a barrage of barks from Gretzky and a wailing moan from Jordan.Dammit, why didn’t I think about her pets?
The whippet growls, crouching low to the ground and baring his teeth.
I try to keep my voice low and calming. “It’s okay, G. It’s just me.”
Jordan rubs up against my pant leg. Oh, now he wants to play like we’re friends. At least he’s now quiet. Before I can even get the dog to settle, to realize he knows me and that I’m not a threat, the overhead lights flick on.
With long, red hair bed-mussed and a sleepy expression, Wren stands in the hallway. She’s in a long-sleeved flannel pajama top with her legs bare and enticing. Immediately, both animals silence and amble over to her side.
