She leads me upstairs, where she gets me towels and clean clothes. I don’t spend long in there. I already feel knackered.
Dressed, I head back downstairs, the smell of food leading the way.
“It’s just a pasta bake,” she says, filling two bowls when I join her in the kitchen.
“Smells like heaven.”
We eat, but she’s subdued. She gets this line in-between her eyes—I’ve seen it at the gym—when she’s overthinking something. “Talk to me, Rachel. What is it? I can tell something is on your mind.”
She puts her fork down. Her eyes meet mine. “I worry maybe Marcus was right about you and me.”
I put my fork down. “What about us?”
“You’re a bachelor, Olly. You shouldn’t have to worry about a single mum and her daughter, let alone have to save her life because I can’t parent for shit. It’s selfish of me.”
Pushing my bowl away, no longer hungry, I cross my arms. Since when am I a bachelor? I thought we were together. “You’re shitting me, right?”Fucking Marcus.
“It’s a lot of commitment for anyone. I’m a parent. It’s not fair of me to ask it of you,” she says, biting her lip.
I can’t believe she’s playing the single mum card. What the fuck? “You haven’t asked me for a damn thing. You’re too proud,” I snap out.
Now she’s the one crossing her arms. “What’s that supposed to mean?”
I reach for the pepper and play with the pot. “Come on, Rachel, I’ve seen you struggling. But you’d rather sell the shirt off your own back than ask for help. You pawned your watch, for Christ’s sake.”
She stands up, her nostrils flaring. “It’s none of your damn business.”
I follow suit and round the table until we’re toe-to-toe. “Marcus is playing you, Rachel. Manipulating you. And why? Because you found someone else. I’ve never once had a problem with you being a single mum. And yet, he’s the one who should help raise your daughter. You wouldn’t have to struggle if he paid his fair share.”
“I know what he’s like, Oliver. I’ve known him my whole life. No matter what you think of him, he’s Molly’s dad—that won’t ever change.”
I step away from her, putting space between us. “Don’t I know it. Fuck it, maybe the two of you should try and make it work. Go to Dubai. Be a family.”
She lets out a gasp. “Are you being serious right now?”
I nod and turn my back towards her. “I think I need to go and have a lay down.” I hear her moving the bowls and turn to her. “Leave them. I can get those later,” I say.
She’s angry and hurt. “Are you asking me to leave, Olly?”
I shrug. I don’t know what I want or how this even escalated. But she is so damn quick to defend Marcus—after everything. And I am a fucking hypocrite. I’m not a perfect man. If she knew what I did, what I’m capable of, would she stand by me as loyally as she does him? “Yeah, I think I am,” I reply finally, my mouth dry.
“Okay, fine.”
She walks past me. My heart beats all wrong, and I feel sick. I grab her hand just before she leaves the kitchen. Her eyes are glassy. “I’m just tired, it’s been a long week,” I say, but I know it’s too late, the damage is done.
“Get some sleep, Olly.” She reaches up and kisses the corner of my mouth.
I want to take it all back and ask her to stay, but I don’t. I stand here like the monster I am and let her walk away.
Chapter Sixty
OLLY
I should have at least texted her after the way we left things yesterday, but I think maybe this is for the best in the long run. I have to switch my phone off, the urge to get over myself and contact her is borderline obsessive, but I won’t—I can’t.
After making myself something to eat, I down my medication and let Buster out before going back to bed. At least when I’m asleep, I can pretend my life isn’t a shit storm. But my nightmares are worse than ever when I wake.
I don’t get away with blocking out the world for long when my mum shows up. “Oliver?”
