‘You sound like you are going to be a great father.’
He blows his nose. ‘I moved here to be closer to Alfie. Going over to Molly’s new house to read my son a bedtime story while my ex-best mate plays happy families with my ex-girlfriend and my son has been excruciating. Sometimes Rory goes out while I do bedtime, which is Molly’s idea. It works; however, after I put Alfie to bed, I head into town, and I always end up bumping into Rory. We like the same sort of pubs. He tries to talk to me, which makes me angry. It was Rory who punched me when I started shouting at him in a pub. Sometimes he’s in the house, and I get frustrated when I see him with my son. That’s what happened when I kicked the kerb.’
I hear him get emotional.
‘I’ve found it so hard, Nelly.’ He breaks into a sob. It isn’t loud, but it sounds like one of those cries you let out when you’ve reached the bottom of your barrel. ‘She broke my heart once with that French model, and now I feel like she’s doing it again with Rory.’
Oliver has been through hell. ‘I’m sorry you’re going through this.’
He sniffs. ‘When I heard Rory was moving in, I stopped writing. That was when my writer’s block began.’
I can see now why he’s struggling to write his romance books. ‘I’m not surprised.’
‘Rory betrayed me, and I will never forgive him.’
‘How do you feel about Molly?’
He pauses. ‘She’s the mother to Alfie, and she’s good with him.’ There is another silence. It’s longer and I wonder whether he wants to be alone with his thoughts.
I hear him sniffing and my heart aches. ‘I don’t love her any more,’ he croaks. ‘There’s only so much my heart can withstand. I’ve said too much. I should get some sleep.’
‘You can talk as much as you want.’
‘I worry I’m keeping you awake with my oversharing.’
‘I don’t mind.’
He turns his pillow over. ‘We’ve kept Alfie a secret. Molly is still paranoid about bad press. I’d had several books published with smaller presses before the reality show. Around the time of her reality show, I got a big book deal, and that’s when I decided to use a pen name. I never mention that I’m a father.’
‘That must be hard for you. You sound like the sort of father who wants to talk about his son and tell the world how proud you are of him.’
‘Nelly, you’re one of the few people in this world who have said that. Everyone thinks about Molly’s needs, and mine get disregarded. I would love to shout about my son.’
We both go silent for a while. I think about everything he’s been through. I am not surprised he’s been acting chaotic living here.
* * *
When I wake up and head to the bathroom, I find it empty. I check the kitchen and the living room, but there’s no sign of Oliver.
As I make my morning coffee and feed Lenny, I hear the front door slam shut.
‘Morning, Nelly,’ Oliver calls, grinning as he walks up the hallway and stands in the doorway to the kitchen. I blink. He’s in a white T-shirt that clings to his chest, blue running shorts and trainers. His hair is damp with sweat, and his arms are flushed with exertion.
I immediately pretend to need something in a drawer.
A moment later, he’s leaning casually in the doorway, his chest rising and falling, and his cheeks pink. The sight of him sends my brain into a mild meltdown. I try to stamp out the flutters and warmth that’s coursing through my veins, but I can’t.
He lifts his T-shirt to wipe his brow, and I look up. Oh, God, he has defined abs.
‘How are you?’
I’m trying to erase the image of his tanned abs from my mind.
‘Nelly?’
‘I’m fine. How are you?’
He smiles. ‘Thanks for listening to me last night. I woke up this morning and felt lighter. This bed-sharing arrangement will help me.’
