I never realized there were so many differences between the States and Australia. Now, I just want to visit to see for myself.
“What about the food?”
“Same. We don’t have as much fast food.”
The questions kept flowing, I am desperate to learn more about him.
“You live in Sydney? By yourself?”
He nods, leaning his elbows on the railing of the fence. “I have an apartment on the Quay. Makes it easier to travel back and forth to the stadium.”
I let out a loose laugh, almost a snort. “Is it a bachelor pad? Decorated in faux-fur with a revolving bed playing Marvin Gaye when you dim the lights?”
“Perhaps you’re confusing me with Prince Charming.”
“Sebastian lives with his parents,” I inform him, unsure as to why. “The King Manor is the second-largest house in the county.”
“What’s the largest?”
“My parents’ house.”
He lets out a whistle. “Must be below you to hang out with a poor boy like me.”
“Money isn’t everything,” I remind him.
Oliver gazes at me, observing my reaction to his comment. Money isn’t everything, though, so much of me doesn’t know how to exist without it. I was born into an incredibly wealthy family, and never once have I had to worry about my financial future.
That is—until now.
Oliver tugs on my hand. “Come on, let’s continue to walk around the trail.”
We stroll at an easy pace talking about Oliver’s life back home. He speaks so fondly of his family—a conditional love I can’t comprehend.
We reach a small clearing with a food vendor selling ice cream and sodas.
We walk past to see what other food is on offer until we spot an older couple arguing. The man looks embarrassed as his wife carries on, loud enough so everyone can hear.
“Oh, that poor man. What a bitch. Did she just tell him to get her a hot dog ‘you fat bastard’?”
I laugh, hearing the same thing. “I’d say they’ve been married for a while, and she controls the marriage.”
“Aint gonna be like that for me. My woman is going to be all class, not a raving lunatic like her.”
The thought of Oliver considering marriage is music to my ears. Not that I expected us to get married, but knowing he’s open to commitment seals the uncertainty wavering over me. This isn’t just an unwarranted fling. My feelings stem deeper, they have buried their roots and firmly planted a seed impossible to ignore.
“So, I accidentally saw the email on your computer screen,” I mention, hoping he’ll continue to be honest with me. “Why didn’t you tell me you’re seeing a specialist. I thought the injury was final?”
Oliver looks taken aback, the laughter evaporating from his eyes. His customary warmth gone faster than summer rain on the asphalt. Even his focus is somewhere on the people behind me as if I have become invisible to him, or he can’t bear to look at me at all. I’ve crossed some invisible line, offending him, but I am unsure why.
“You snooped my emails?” he barks, dropping my hand.
“I didn’t snoop. I was moving your laptop.”
“No one gave you the right to walk into my life and act almighty as if you know me. Jesus, Gabriella, when will you fucking learn to drop that subject?”
His comment is nasty, berating me for asking him a simple question. The hurt consumes me, followed by a stream of anger.
This is so like him.
Hot and damn cold.
One minute he’s an open book, and the next I’ve crossed some imaginary line. I just can’t win with him.
I suggest we leave, and he takes me home.
Once again, I read more into us than I should have. The way he spoke to me, the angered tone, belittled the small amount of confidence I found when I am around him. Just like my father and Sebastian, my opinion, or presence means nothing.
He drives back erratically at a speed well over the legal limit, causing my stomach to backflip from the sheer terror. I close my eyes the entire journey, only to open them when we slow down and park in the driveway.
The second we are dead still, I hop off, just as upset as he is.
He doesn’t say a word, going inside and leaving me alone. I hold back the tears stemming from my anger and head back home, sullen with a weight on my shoulder, again.
The house feels lonely. No longer the breath of fresh air I have grown accustomed to. The walls are bleak, the darkness creeping in as the sun begins to set.
For now, I welcome it with open arms, craving the solitude to allow myself to process what happened today.
Oliver Madden is a blessing and a curse.
He has a hold over me no matter how I try to shake it off.
But that’s the thing—I don’t want to shake it off.
It’s finally time to admit my heart rules.
My head is just the moron failing to catch up.
Gabriella
Two days and I haven’t heard a single peep from Oliver.
Not one text, call, or even smug walk past our adjoining picket fence.
I can play just as stubborn.
His callous words, plus mood swings, are all a bit much, and I refuse to throw myself at him like this is my fault.
The solitude gives me time to think. But thinking ends up leading to restless nights and lack of sleep. I dream but more vividly than usual. The one jogging my memory is me being caught in a maze. Every which way I turn, I face a dead end. The panic consumes me, and when the walls began to close in, I wake up drenched in sweat.
Aubrey has come to my rescue. She suggested we head over to Melrose for some lunch and shopping. It’s nice to spend time with her without the distraction of CJ.
“It’s weird eating and not being interrupted,” she says halfway through her pesto chicken salad. “If Chance were here, my chicken would be gone, and CJ would have already gotten bored, plus spilled this fancy champagne all over the table.”
I laugh, then take another sip from the wine I ordered.
“You miss them. It’s cute.”
“Am I that obvious?” She cringes.
“It’s okay to miss them. They’re your family.”
“But it’s breaking girl code,” Aubrey complains, finishing off her champagne. “Okay, change of subject. Explain to me why Olly’s in such a foul mood?”
Where do I even begin?
But if anyone will understand, it’s got to be Aubrey.
“Before you and Chance officially hooked up, did you fight a lot? I mean, fighting’s not good, right?”
Aubrey shakes her head, letting out a loud sigh.
“All we did was fight. Hot, cold, yes, no. But I couldn’t ignore the fact I was falling in love with him. It’s just one of those things. We didn’t see eye to eye on a lot of things, but what mattered, we did.”
“Oliver is so—”
“Stubborn, arrogant, irrevocably in love with you?”