It was what I had needed and for the very first time throughout our whole relationship, Oliver had stood his ground with me to do something he’d wanted to and until now I had been too selfish to see it from any other side but my own. This whole time I had begrudged him for leaving me behind and he’d only been trying to protect me like he always had.
Wrapping the blanket tighter around me, I cried, I cried like I hadn’t done in such a long time. For the love that I had lost, for the idiot I’d been when I pushed the best thing that could’ve ever happened to me out of my life with such great force it had taken me five long and lonely years to recover. For placing the blame solely and squarely on Oliver’s shoulder while I’d played the victim. There had been so many times he’d tried to reach out to me and I had severed the ties and let him leave without even a final conversation.
Leaning forward to pick up my phone from the coffee table sitting square to the couch, I fire off a text in between sobs to Drew.
Me: I am a terribly selfish person.
Drew: No you’re not. What has happened for you to think that?
Me: Oliver came home.
Drew: Oh.
Drew: Did something happen that is going to require my attempting to kick his arse?
Me: I think it’s me who needs the arse kicking.
Drew: You okay Dase?
Me: I’m fine. Maybe just tired.
Drew: Go to bed. You’ve had a big day.
Me: Goodnight Drew
Drew: Night Dase.
I wish I could sleep and I was beyond tired but the cast on my wrist wouldn’t allow me to sleep comfortably. I had tossed and turned for a long time before finally falling into a restless sleep, waking in the morning more exhausted than when I had gone to bed.
* * *
Going through the motions I make a cup of tea before settling down on the couch for a chick flick marathon. Over indulging on an all redeeming love fest is exactly what I needed.
After a seven hour binge watch the only thing I knew for certain was I needed a shower, Love like in the books and movies didn’t exist and there was no easy happy ever after, I knew I wasn’t bitter on love because I had laughed and cried with the heroine but the light was shining brightly on the lack of relationship in my life, especially those with a big grand gesture or love declaration.
* * *
Sitting around the dinner table with my parents I felt like a kid again, my mum had insisted on cutting up my food to bite sized pieces. She had fussed over me like I was a toddler.
“Daisy, you need to be more careful. Living on your own like that, it could have been so much worse.” In her own caring way, she scolded me.
“Mum, it’s just my wrist. Being unable to work is bad enough but I will survive.”
“How are you going to run the shop like that? Are you even able to bake?”
“I’ll work it out.” I had already had my mind whirling with how I was going to manage over the next month and a half, having my mother remind me was like a slap in the face by my own insecurity complex. I’d come to the decision so far that tomorrow I would go to the shop and take stock on what I can and couldn’t do there. “It’s gone to be fine.”
“Daisy, we never raised you to be a dreamer, you need to be realistic. So, if you need anything you just need to ask. Daddy and I will do whatever shuffling we can to make sure we are available to you.” Reaching across the table I squeeze her hand with my good one.
“Thank you, you also taught me to be independent and I’m determined to work this out on my own.”
“Don’t let your stubbornness or foolish pride get in the way of asking for help.”
“Fine, can we talk about something else now, please?” I beg
“So it was Oliver that took you to the emergency room.”
“Muuuum.” I would rather go back to talking about the shop if the topic she was changing to was that of Oliver.
She blinks at me, all wide-eyed and innocent looking. “What?”
* * *
Oliver is sitting on the top step when I pull into the driveway, scanning the street I thought I had missed seeing his car, it’s nowhere in sight. Resting at his feet is a flask of water.
“What are you doing here, Oliver?”
“I’m not sure. I guess I was thinking about you and just ended up here.” He shrugs with a sheepish expression on his face, I couldn’t deny how freaking adorable he looked with his hair ruffled like that and the smile in his eyes. I wanted to reach out and run my fingers through his hair, smoothing it as I went.
“The fact I wasn’t home didn’t have you considering just leaving again?”
“If I just left, how would I know how you’re doing today?” He cocks his head at me in a way that challenges me to answer his question.
“You could just mind your own business?” I try to keep my tone light, no malice intended in my words. As I push past him he stands. Stepping close to me as I slide the key into the lock of the security door he had installed.
“I’ve made you my business, Daisy Blossom.”
Yanking the door open, I’m secretly pleased when it nearly swings into him and he has to step down to avoid the impact. “Maybe you need to get yourself a hobby, to fill in some of this free time you seem to have so much of these days.”
“It’s not about what I need, Sweetheart. Not when I can concentrate my energy on meeting your needs.” Oliver’s closeness causes my heart begins its familiar slow drum solo, as he steps close enough to me that I can feel his breath tickling the little hairs on the back of my neck.
“If you’re so interested in meeting my needs then you’ll go because I need you to go.” With the front door now unlocked and hanging open I turn to face Oliver again, “Goodbye, Oliver.”
Stepping backward across the threshold I grip the wood of the door before swinging it closed in Oliver’s smug face. Through the sheer netting hanging over the windows, I watch as he jogs backward down the path, the smile on his face was one of the things I had fallen in love with about him. Even now I was still affected by it and I was more conflicted than ever, it was easier when I knew I resented him and chose to hate him. Everything had changed and turned on its head since I’ve come to realise my own blame in this situation.
* * *
I had been dreading opening the shop, I’d spent the best part of the night brainstorming ideas on how to keep it going, all I had managed to come up with was making sandwiches and hiring someone to come and clean the shop at the end of each day. There was no logical resolution to baking without wet ingredients or immobility of my hand. I’d spent hours flicking through my grandma’s old cookbooks looking for alternative recipes. Finally, feeling defeated I’d curled up in bed waiting to fall asleep.
I had woken somewhere around 5am with a new sense of steely determination. I was not going to let this stupid injury set me back after everything I had been trying to achieve the past two years, maybe the stubbornness everyone reminds me of will come to be a blessing.
* * *
Drew was standing at the door as expected, what was not expected was Oliver standing with him.
“What are you doing here?” I hold up my arm to show them, mostly directing my question at Drew, “In case you hadn’t noticed there will be no baking today.”