And Oliver was alone.
13
Nick white-knuckled the steering wheel all the way home. The bottle of juice rocked in the cupholder like a silent reminder, or an accusation, almost as if it was spying on Nick. Anya carried on a stream of oblivious conversation the whole way home, and he could barely stand it.
He’d been unable to take his eyes off Oliver’s face, and so he’d seen it all. The hurt. The sadness. The color seeped out of his skin, and his bloodshot eyes said so many wordless things. And Nick could only stare at him like a statue as his heart beat so hard in his chest, it left no room for his lungs.
The arrangement was over. With nothing said between them, their little secret was outed, and the private space they’d built shattered.
He slammed the car door so hard the whole vehicle rocked and marched toward the house.
“Are you okay?” Anya asked from the driveway. He didn’t reply. His shift had been a shit show of false alarms, drunk drivers, and two stupid teenagers who had gotten high and set off old fireworks that had nearly burned down a cottage on the northern beach road. Now that seemed like the least of his problems.
He poured himself a glass of water and stared out the kitchen window, waiting for his heart to slow or his whole body to stop shaking like it wanted to rattle him to pieces.
“Nick?” Anya stood in the door.
“You’re going to be late for work.”
“What’s wrong?”
“Nothing. Go on.”
“Nick.” She put a hand on his back, and he bowed his head over the sink. How could he be so upset over something that had only ever been casual sex and wasn’t even that old?
But he couldn’t mistake the betrayal in Oliver’s eyes.
“Babe?”
“Don’t call me that!” He turned, the water in his glass splashing a wide arc, as she danced back.
“Then tell me what’s wrong! You can’t give me the silent treatment. We get enough of that from Hayden. You can’t do it too. I couldn’t take it.”
He sagged into one of the kitchen chairs, his whole body exhausted. Anya sat next to him, and he shuddered when she touched him again, but she didn’t pull away. He took his phone out of his pocket, opened his text messages, and showed it to her.
Oliver’s texts from overnight had been different. Nick didn’t know what had changed, and by the time he’d been able to reply to them, it was too late to expect Oliver to still be awake.
I want you.
When can I see you?
I can’t wait.
It needs to be now.
Soon.
Please. I need to see you.
Anya scrolled through them. “What are these?”
“I’ve been seeing someone.”
“Seeing someone...like you’re dating someone?”
He shrugged.
She studied the phone screen. “You’ve been seeing Oliver. That’s his name? You’ve been seeing a man?”
