Oliver glanced at the clock. Maybe Penelope was down in the sunroom with Ari’el. For the last couple of weeks, she would bring the baby down after everyone had gone to bed, sitting in the dimly lit room. Probably wanting some peace and quiet as well as to get out of the confines of her private quarters. He understood the need to move around, to be out in the open. Sometimes he felt as though he was trapped, unable to go forward or back, stuck in one place both physically and mentally.
Yes, getting out of this room was ideal.
Pushing himself off his bed, Oliver snagged a robe, pulling it on over the cotton pants and T-shirt he wore, slid his feet into moccasins, and headed out. From below he could hear the sounds of theheurospcleaning up after the morning meal. It wouldn’t take them long and then the day shift would move on to cleaning the floors, dusting, and polishing the furniture. It was their routine. The night shift tended to the glass on the windows as well as taking care of the things that needed tending to outside while catering to all who lived beneath the roof, which required a significant amount of effort, hence the reason there were so many of them.
Oliver headed for the back of the house, past Bijou’s room, beyond Elizabeth’s to the stairwell that led down.
When he hit the main floor, he heard the whisper of voices as theheurospdiligently worked.
And as he’d expected, Penelope was sitting in the sunroom, Obsidian at her side, his big arm stretched along the cushions at her back. They were both peering down at Ari’el, so much love shining on their faces. He briefly wondered if his parents had ever looked at him and Penelope like that. Probably Penelope if he had to guess. She would claim otherwise, but Oliver knew the truth. He hadn’t been their blood child, but rather one they’d adopted. He’d often wondered why they’d even bothered, because they had never seemed all that interested in him.
Not to mention the timing of it. They’d attempted to pass him off as Penelope’s twin, for fuck’s sake. His sister still believed that was the case, and Oliver had never felt the need to tell her otherwise. It wouldn’t change a damn thing, so what was the point? He’d caused her enough pain and frustration over the years. And though he was responsible for most of that pain, the majority of that frustration, he’d never truly wanted to hurt her. So he kept that secret, pretended as his parents did that he was part of their family.
But what Oliver never understood was why they wanted two babies when they could’ve easily given one all their love and attention. Perhaps good ol’ Mom and Dad were as selfish back then as they were now. Made sense that they’d want more than they already had.
“Hey.”
His head shot up at the sound of Penelope’s voice.
Oliver smiled, moving up the few steps leading into the oversized room. “Hey back. I thought maybe I’d catch you down here.”
Obsidian leaned in, pressed a kiss to Penelope’s cheek, then ran one finger over Ari’el’s before he got to his feet. When he passed Oliver, he gave his shoulder a firm squeeze.
“Can’t sleep?” Penelope asked, patting the cushion beside her.
“It’s becoming a trend,” he admitted.
“Want to hold her? If nothing else, it’ll help you relax.”
Though he still found it awkward, Oliver welcomed the opportunity. He wasn’t sure why that was, either. He’d never been fond of kids, didn’t matter their age. But from the moment Ari’el had been born, he’d been drawn to her.
It took him a minute to get situated, but then Penelope passed the sleeping baby to him, positioning her in his arms so she was secure all while making sure Penelope didn’t accidentally brush him so as not to cause herself undue pain. Evidently, when an angel mated, there was all sorts of weird shit that went on, including making the touch of the opposite sex painful. Oliver hadn’t known that little fact when he’d practically assaulted his sister months ago, his anger having been prevalent at that time. Since he’d learned of the strange phenomenon, he’d made a point to ensure he didn’t hurt her.
Of course, he didn’t have to avoid Ari’el. She was merely a child, her future mate perhaps determined—again, something he’d learned about angel destinies, blah, blah, blah—but not sealed, so for now, Oliver could safely hold her in his arms. The first time he’d held her, he had nearly freaked, fearful he would injure her in some way. Since then, he’d realized the baby merely needed warmth and security, and his arms could provide that.
“I still can’t believe how perfect she is,” Penelope whispered, softly touching Ari’el’s puffy cheek.
Oliver continued to stare down at his niece, not sure what to say. He knew his sister wasn’t using the term literally, but he could see the perfection the same as she could. Her little nose, the tiny, almost nonexistent eyebrows, pursed lips, and smooth, rounded cheeks. Unlike some people, he couldn’t tell who she resembled. She had black hair like her father, but her mother’s coloring. And yes, all of it came together perfectly to create the sweet angel.
He had no idea how long he remained like that, but voices in the kitchen drew his attention, and he looked up to see Bijou had come in. She was talking so animatedly with Phillip, he almost smiled but managed to refrain.
“How are things with you two?” Penelope asked, her voice so soft it barely registered.
“We haven’t talked in … a while,” he admitted.
“I’m sorry. I know you two had become friends.”
They had and perhaps that was what Oliver missed the most. He’d had someone to spend time with, to talk to. She had been interested in him on a personal level and vice versa. These days he felt completely alone. The job with thefiestreighhelped because it kept his mind occupied for a good ten hours of the night, but there were still too many hours left when the metaphorical darkness would creep in, threatening to strangle him.
His attention shifted back to Ari’el, and he smiled, couldn’t help it. He lifted her higher up his chest, pressed a kiss to her forehead before passing her back to her mother.
“I think I’ll turn in,” he told her. “Thank you for this.”
“Anytime you want to see her, Oliver. Anytime.”
He nodded, then studied his sister’s face for a moment. She was no longer the same girl he’d grown up with. His sister was now a mom, a wife. An angel. But he didn’t think those things had changed her as much as he’d originally thought. No, Oliver was pretty sure his sister had changed long ago, and he’d been so wrapped up in his own anger, his own sense of betrayal that he’d never noticed.
His loss, that was for sure.
