“Oh, Maren, I wasn’t going to yell.” Stella’s voice is full of sympathy. “I would if you didn’t sound like you’ve been crying for days, but . . . you do. However, I don’t understand what in the world is going on.”
“Oliver made a few comments about being second choice and never being the guy, but I love him. He’s my first choice. So, I figured if we ended the marriage and dated instead, he would see that it was my way of choosing him instead of us being together because of a series of insane events.”
“Right . . .” She inhales quickly. “Oh, no. You were giving up the fake marriage to have a real relationship.”
See, she gets it. “Exactly!”
“But the execution of it . . .”
“Was bad,” I admit.
“Have you . . . called him?”
I chew on my lower lip. “I can’t. What he said, maybe he’s right. Maybe I am a liar, and I don’t know what love is.”
Stella huffs. “He said that?”
“I hurt him,” I say with the tears pooling again. “I think that maybe . . . we need time. Time to be apart and to see if this is real or if we were caught up in the fantasy. Maybe the end was inevitable.”
Stella sighs. “I’m not sure what the right thing is, but you love each other, and I hope you can work it out.”
The sad part is, I don’t know if that’s what should happen. Love doesn’t mean a relationship can work. We have distance, mistrust, and hurt between us, so can we even get past all of that? My heart wants to say yes, but my head is telling me I’m wrong.
All I’ve done is listen to my heart, and look where that got me.
“Time will tell, I guess.”
“I guess. Do you want to see the wedding photos?” she asks.
“You can send them over, and I’ll look at them when I feel emotionally stable,” I say with a laugh.
“All right. Listen, I’m going to just say this and then never bring it up again. You two need to talk. I think a lot of this can be resolved, and . . . he needs you.”
“He made it clear he doesn’t.”
“He’s a man and dumb.”
There’s a knock on my office door, and I lift my finger. “I have to go back to work. Thank you for everything, Stella. Truly, you became a part of my life and a sister when I needed one. If you ever need anything, please call.”
“I will, and . . . well, goodbye.”
“Bye.”
I hang up, blink away the tears, and turn to the person waiting in my doorway.
Thirty-Two
OLIVER
Jack is sitting on my couch, watching me pack and drinking a beer. One that I can’t have because it makes me sick.
Thanks, cancer. I’m not even allowed to numb the hurt of heartache thanks to you.
“You head out in three days?” Jack asks, knowing exactly what I’m doing since my annoyingly overprotective sister is coming.
“Yup.”
“And you’re staying for how many days?”
I roll my eyes. “Six.”
“Yeah, Stella said as much.”
“Yup.”
Jack makes a low grumbling noise and then walks over toward me. “Did you decide anything about Maren?”
Tossing the shirt I was folding onto the bed, I turn to my brother-in-law. “Is there a reason you’re here, Jack?”
“Yeah, apparently, it’s my damn job to fix all the broken Parkerson men. Trust me, it’s not a job anyone wants.”
“I don’t need to be fixed.”
He laughs. “Yeah, sure, you’re the pillar of strength and perfectness.”
I grin. “Thanks for agreeing.”
“That was sarcasm.”
“This is me not caring,” I toss back.
Jack shrugs. “Care or not, I was sent here to fix you because your sister thinks you’re a mess, and while my beautiful wife is meddling and frustrating, she’s often right. So, here I am.”
Stella is a pain in my ass. “And as I said, I’m fine, so you can go and tell her you did a good job and get your reward.”
“If it were only that easy . . .” He walks over to the table and grabs the large manilla envelope. “Did you sign them?”
I fucking hate my family. “No, I didn’t sign them.”
“Why not?”
Is he stupid? Yes, he is because he married my sister. Or maybe that makes him smart—whatever. “Because I’ve been busy.”
“Too busy to sign your annulment paperwork? It takes like, what? Three seconds to scribble your name?”
“I’d rather use the next three seconds to toss you out of my cabin.”
Jack smirks. “You can try.”
This is going one way, and since I doubt he’ll leave me the hell alone until he gets what he wants, I give in. “I love Maren, she doesn’t love me back, she filed for an annulment, and I have cancer. All of this adds up to disaster and the end of the relationship. I’m fine. She’s probably happy this is done so she can live her life according to her plan. Now, can you let me have some peace?”
“No, because you’re an idiot if you think Maren doesn’t love you. We all saw it.”
“She might have thought she did.”
“No, dude, she does. I know she does.”
“Oh, now you’re a mind reader, awesome, can you imagine what I’m thinking now?” I focus hard, and Jack laughs.
Great. He missed that message.
“Go back over the fight, Ollie.”
I sigh heavily and replay the events again. Over and over, I see her face, hear the words, and hate her fake tears. The ache in my chest is so bad it feels as if I’m right back in her house going through it all over again.
I was concerned about telling her about the cancer, hopeful she would stand by me and fight, but she had already given up.
“Did you ask her why?”
“Of course I did.”
Jack raises one brow. “Really? It sounds like all you did was flip out and leave.”
“I’m about to flip out on you.”
“I don’t care,” Jack says and then leans forward. “Seriously, you didn’t get an explanation.”
“I got served with the end. I don’t need the why.”
“Then let’s settle it before you go in for treatment.” He gestures to the envelope still in his hand. “Sign it, and I’ll send it in. Then you can be done and move on with your life of being the weird dude who lives out here alone. It’s cool. Chicks will totally like that. Or you can just fuck the guests who come to escape. That way, they leave and you never have to worry about falling in love.”
I walk over to the desk and grab the pen. “Sounds good to me.”
He extends the paperwork and then pulls it back. “Giving up is kind of your thing, so I guess this fits.”
When he puts the envelope back in front of me, I grab it and yank it away from him, tossing it on the table. “What the fuck does that mean?”
“What?”
“The giving up thing. I don’t give up.”
“No?” Jack asks, pursing his lips. “Really? Because there was the girl you were engaged to in high school . . . what was her name? Janelle? Janice?”