Duh. But that wasn’t a given. “None of us know how anything will go.”Parse that, witch.
“You’ve always been keen to leave our town.”
Not true. Olivia bristled. “No more than you’ve been keen to see me go.” Anne gasped and Olivia closed her eyes. Why, why, why was she such an idiot? No good would come of a public fight. “Sorry, that was…snarky.”
Anne stared at her for a minute, her face softening. “He’ll never leave, you know.”
She did, and it hurt.
“Unless you gave him children,” Anne continued, the unexpected and twisted suggestion slamming into Olivia like a silent freight train. “Then he’d follow you wherever you wanted to go.”
“God,” Olivia gasped. “I’d never do that.”
“Well, that’s foolish.”
“If Rafe wants to live in Pine Harbour forever, then this is where we’ll be. You’re stuck with me, I’m afraid.” Olivia shook her head in amazement. “If you think that I’d try to trick him—” She cut herself when she realized her mother-in-law was quietly laughing. “What?”
“Good.” Anne lifted her silk scarf from around her neck and tucked it over her head to protect her straightened hair from the brisk November wind. “This is good. You’ll come to dinner on Sunday.”
And then she was gone before Olivia realized that the last statement had been an order, not a question.
— —
“I ran into your mom today.” Olivia had watched Rafe polishing his boots for a few minutes before finally telling him.
Rafe set down his blackened shammy rag and turned to face her. “Oh yeah?”
“We had words.”
His lips quirked. “I didn’t get a lambasting phone call, so I’m guessing they weren’t bad words.”
“First some bad words, then good ones.” She shrugged. “I’d call it a modest victory.”
“Well, that’s…good.”
“She wants us to come to dinner on Sunday.”
He winced. “I have to work this weekend.”
“You’ve worked all week!” She dialled her tone back a bit. “Army?”
“They’re short on instructors for a range. I might be back in time for dinner, though.”
“No, I’m not going without you.”
“I’d meet you there.”
It was an innocuous offer, probably fair—it had been a while, but Liv seemed to remember range weekends ending early enough that, yeah, he might make it back. But for her first Minelli family dinner in two years? Maybe wasn’t good enough. “Probably best to reschedule for the next weekend you have free. Can you call her and tell her it won’t work out?”
“I know I’m working nights next weekend, and the following weekend is the regimental Christmas dinner. Maybe you could just go without me and I’ll meet you there.” He was looking straight at her, how could he not see that wasn’t the answer she was looking for? “Liv, what’s the big deal?”
“Nothing. But I think I’m actually busy on Sunday too, so if you could just call your mom, that would be great.” She spun on her heel and went to the bedroom. Their bedroom. He’d practically moved back in, and a laundry basket overflowing with basketball shorts and stupid man-sized t-shirts reinforced that point. This was all too familiar and painful. She started folding shirts with harsh, jerky motions, only partially aware of him moving around the living room. The sound of running water as he washed his hands make her pulse pick up and her face flush.Great, let’s fight.
She felt him in the doorway long before he said anything. God, she was somadat him. Still. This wasn’t about dinner, this was about all the dinners and the weekends and the late nights and early mornings. Six years of resentment burbled up inside her until hot, angry tears spilled down her face and still he stood there.
He’s not running away, the hopeful part of her heart said.He’s not magically making it better, the larger, more cynical part retorted.
“Liv, look at me.” His voice was rough, angry and insistent.
