Page 60 of Beyond the Hedge Maze

He wished he was back at the start of that day. That he was still studying Jesse as he slept.

Oliver took off his shoes and socks outside before entering the house, his bare feet cold against the entryway floor. He knew he should go upstairs and change, but he wanted to see Jesse first. He needed to tell him about the meeting, he needed to get it off his chest, to tell someone about what was actually happening with his parents.

It was a foreign feeling to Oliver, wanting to be comforted. Allowing himself to be.

Jesse was sitting with Charlotte in the library, at the same small table that Oliver and Jesse had used during their first meeting. Their heads were bent together over a laptop screen, deep in conversation. He couldn’t see Jesse’s face, but he could see Charlotte. And even if he didn’t know her well, he could recognize the urgency in her tone, even if she wasn’t talking loud enough for Oliver to specifically make out her words. Jesse was nodding along, absorbing whatever she was saying, and Oliver decided he wouldn’t interrupt.

Slowly, he backed out of the doorway and headed toward the stairs. Later, they would catch up and Oliver would greet Charlotte like a good host, but for now, the rain was coming down in sheets, and the pots upstairs wouldn’t empty themselves.

Chapter 24

Jesse

Present

The past few days spent with Charlotte had been an exercise in resilience and self-control. Jesse had felt like a younger brother being scolded by his opinionated older sister, and Charlotte had several opinions of what needed to be done to save Chapman House. And she had even more regarding Jesse’s hesitance to tell Oliver that their current plan wasn’t working.

Jesse had planned to talk to Oliver the day Charlotte arrived. They needed to discuss the particulars of Oliver’s monthly and yearly finances before a solid plan could be made. They needed to, once and for all, discuss the real fate of the Chapman Estate. But when he had finally bid Charlotte a good night, their strategizing going late into the evening over Chinese takeaway, Oliver was already asleep.

Jesse hadn’t even heard him return from his appointment with the solicitor.

Jesse wanted to stop making excuses. He wanted to come clean and tell Oliver the real reason for inviting Charlotte. More than anything, he wanted to apologize for keeping secrets. Lying wasn’t in his nature, it never had been. And even if they were only lies of omission, they were still eating Jesse alive. So when he had finally crawled into bed, pulling Oliver into his arms, he said he’d do it in the morning.

The rain had other plans.

Oliver had left their bed before Jesse was awake. When Jesse had finally found Oliver on the uppermost floor of the house, he was in hysterics, trying to soak up the stream of water steadily cascading through a light fixture in the ceiling. Jesse stood there in shock, unsure what to do. He was torn between trying to find more towels, or another bucket, or calling a contractor, or comforting Oliver.

Oliver was unaware that Jesse had been watching it all unfold when he stumbled to his feet. Oliver moved to the corner of the bedroom and dropped to his knees, pulling frantically at the soggy carpet that had started to separate from the subfloor.

Jesse rushed over and tried to grab Oliver’s hands before he accidentally hurt himself. “Oliver, stop. Stop.”

Oliver was nearly hyperventilating as he continued to tear at the carpet. “Everything is fucked. It’s always fucked. Why do they hate me? What did I ever do to them? I don’t understand. I just want to keep my home. Why is that so terrible? Just let me keep my fucking home.”

Jesse fell to the ground, the wet carpet soaking through his jeans as he hauled Oliver into his lap. “Cariño, love, what happened? Talk to me.”

“My parents.”

“What about them?”

Oliver shoved his face into Jesse’s neck as he had stuttered everything out. “They’re suing me. Again. And Mr. Stillwell said he can’t be my solicitor anymore. And I don’t have £25,000. And you’re leaving soon. And it WON’T FUCKING STOP RAINING. Why won’t it stop?” He hiccupped, “Why won’t it stop…”

Jesse held Oliver until his crying slowed. He scooped Oliver up off of the ruined floor and carried him straight to the shower to get warm and into a change of clothes. Next, he found Charlotte and profusely apologized, explaining that he needed to take care of Oliver. She waved him off, promising to text him if she needed anything.

By mid-afternoon, he felt confident that he could leave Oliver’s side to return to the library with Charlotte. He felt more determined than ever to make this work. He had to fix this.

Now on the third day since her arrival, their final proposal was finished, and Charlotte had only agreed to go back to London with a promise that Jesse would pull the plug. Today.

“I hope you come back soon. We’ve loved having you here.”

We.

Oliver’s arm was wrapped around his waist, and he was addressing Charlotte like she was a guest. Like Chapman House was their home. Like it was normal and natural for them to send her on her way together. And one day, it would be. Jesse had a plan. Things would be fine. Oliver would accept their proposal, and they’d be one step closer to getting him out of this mess. At least that’s what he hoped.

They watched Charlotte’s rental car until it was out of sight, and Oliver turned to him, a tired smile on his face. His eyes were still red-rimmed, and it was breaking Jesse’s heart. “I have a surprise for you. I figured you’d be busy with your father tomorrow, so we could celebrate your birthday a day early.”

“That sounds great, cariño.”

Oliver darted back inside the house, and Jesse’s stomach began to churn. He didn’t feel like celebrating anything with anyone. He certainly didn’t want Oliver pushing down his hurt in order to do it.