by J. Saman
I shake my head, confused. “I don’t know what you mean. They made an exception.”
He glares at me like I’m stupid. “They don’t make exceptions. Not for anyone. Not even for Oliver. No, he paid for the other half of Layla’s tuition for all four years. Or are you pretending you didn’t know that or ask him to do it?”
“What?” I gasp. “No. He wouldn’t. That’s not… I didn’t know he did that.” I didn’t fucking know that at all. Ire heats my blood, my face no doubt matching my hair.
I’m furious.
How could Oliver do something like that? How could he pay for her like that? That wasn’t the deal. That wasn’t any part of the goddamn deal we made.
He has to know I would have never accepted that. And he did it anyway. Why? For Layla or so that I would keep up my end of the deal and stay his fake fiancée? Plus, he lied to me. The bastard lied about all of it.
“Don’t you dare lie to me,” he snarls. “You expect me to believe you dating my son and getting him to propose after only a couple of months—during which time he never mentioned you to us once—is happenstance? True love?” he scoffs. “Please, Amelia. I am not a stupid man. You might have blinded my son into thinking you’re in love with him and you might have charmed my wife and children, but you have not fooled me for a second. I know a gold-digger when I see one. You’re in so much debt there is no end in sight, and now Oliver is paying for half of Layla’s high school tuition. His heart is simply too big and trusting to even entertain the idea that you’re using him, but the facts are what they are. It was only a matter of time before we learned the truth about you.”
Tears prickle my eyes as my fists ball up. “I’m not using him,” I grit out. “Oliver knows nothing of my debts, and I had no idea what he did for Layla.”
He glares at me, his features wooden. “Right. Of course,” he says sardonically. “Because Oliver naturally would have just paid for Layla’s tuition without being asked to.” He practically rolls his eyes at me, and I clench my teeth. “As for your debt, I believe you that Oliver doesn’t know about it. You’re smart. You had to know that if you had told him, it would have set off all kinds of alarms for him. No, you just figured you’d wait until you were married. Then pay them off when you have access to his money.”
Indignation flares through me, but I try to rein in my temper, hold my tone steady and calm. “Dr. Fritz, I understand your position on this, and I appreciate you looking out for Oliver’s best interest, but I can assure you, everything you are saying about me is wrong. Yes, I have a lot of debt I accrued after my parents died and I was trying to take care of Layla and earn my degree. Yes, it is a struggle for me to pay this off. But that debt never is something I would allow Oliver to be responsible for nor pay off for me. It is my responsibility and mine alone.” I suck in a breath here, because I can’t tell him about the arrangement with Layla and school. “As for Oliver paying for Layla’s tuition, believe me when I tell you I will not allow that to stand. I do not want him paying for her education.”
“So you care nothing for Oliver’s money?” he challenges, incredulous.
I hold my head up, staring defiantly into his eyes. “Nothing.”
“And you love my son?”
“Yes,” I tell him because I do. “With all my heart.” Even as it destroys me. Even as what Dr. Fritz is saying about me breaks my heart. Even as everything inside me shatters and dies.
“And if I were to give you this?” Reaching out, he thrusts something at me that I reflexively take.
Unfolding it, I gasp, nearly choking on my own bile as it climbs up the back of my throat.
It’s a check.
A check to buy me off.
A check to get me to walk away from his son. To get me out of their lives for good. Never in my life have I felt lower or more disrespected, and yet, I can’t hate him for it either.
He’s trying to protect his son. His family.
And I’m just the poor, parentless girl who tricked and manipulated his son. The gold-digger as he said.
I’m holding two million dollars in my hand. Two million dollars that would change my life. Eliminate my debt. All my fears and anxieties along with it. Pay for Layla’s education—college included.
I crumple the check up in my hand before pressing it into his chest. “No thanks,” I tell him, releasing it and forcing him to catch it before it falls to the ground. “I don’t want your money; Dr. Fritz and I don’t want Oliver’s. I don’t belong in your world.” My breath hitches high in my throat as I say that, the truth behind my words practically gutting. “If I didn’t already feel it, you just proved that to me. I will never be accepted by you.” I take a step back as the first of my tears burn my cheeks.
I’m devastated. Heartbroken. Angry. Humiliated.
I was foolish to think I could be part of their family. That I would be loved or accepted. That Oliver and I would be able to find a way for this to work.
No. At the end of the day, I was never going to be one of them.
This always had to end, and now it’s ending ugly.
Sooner or later, everyone leaves me. Whether by choice or force of nature. The moment I start to allow myself to depend on others is the moment I’m most likely to be disappointed. It’s a lesson I’ve learned the hard way but evidently needed a refresher on.
Dr. Fritz watches me, almost as if he has no idea what to do with me now that I rejected his offer. “Amelia,” he tries, his hand with the check in it reaching out as he takes a step like he’s going to follow me.
I shake my head, my gaze narrowed at his offending hand. He drops it instantly and suddenly; he looks so very unsure of himself. Like he knows he fucked up.
But it’s too late now.
The damage has already been done.
“I knew it all along,” I say, almost as if I’m talking to myself. “Nothing good ever lasts.”
At least not for me.
31
OLIVER
The second I get out of the shower, the doorbell rings. With a groan, I grab my towel, wrapping it around my waist sprinting across my apartment to answer the door. “Come in, baby,” I call out to Amelia as I nearly bust my ass, slipping all over the place with my wet feet.
The door opens, the smile on my face dropping along with my stomach. “What the hell are you doing here?”
Nora looks me up and down, her eyes feasting on my wet, naked chest and abs, and I clench the towel tighter at my waist.
“We need to talk,” she declares breezily, a smirk now on her ruby-red lips. A color I’ve never seen her wear like that, and I have to wonder if it’s because Amelia does.
“I have nothing to say to you. Get the hell out.”
She makes a tsking sound. “I bet you’ll change your mind after you hear what I have to say. See what I have to show you.”
Fuck. Just fuck. How the hell did she get up here?
“By all means, stay like that,” she continues. “Or better yet, drop the towel.”
I laugh at that. “Honey, even if I did drop the towel, it would take a vat of Viagra to get me hard. My dick has never been less interested in anyone than it is in you.” I spin around and take off for my room, knowing my psycho ex won’t leave until after she tells me whatever the hell she has to tell me. “Touch anything in my house and I will have you arrested. Test me if you don’t believe me.”
My bedroom door shuts behind me, and I click the lock into place, texting a WTF to the doorman. I towel off in record time, tossing on a pair of briefs, some shorts, and a white T-shirt, and in under a minute, I’m back, not even caring if my hair is all over the place and will dry like that.
Folding my arms over my chest, I glare at the woman who is now perched on a barstool in my kitchen. The same barstool Amelia sat on when she showed up drunk at my place two and a half months ago. It only aggravates me further.
“I know you’ve been following me,” I say, standing on the opposite side of the island so she can’t
touch me or get too close. “You’ve also been following Amelia.”
She shrugs, not even bothering to deny it. “And look at what my following her around has gotten me.” Her phone slides across the counter, but I don’t bother to glance down at it. I’m sure I won’t like whatever it is. She wouldn’t be here otherwise.
But first things first…
I steeple my fingers, pressing my elbows onto the counter as I look into her blue eyes. Blue eyes I used to think were the prettiest things ever. Until a pair of gray eyes blew all others out of the water.
“Nora, as much as I hate you being here, I will confess, I’m a bit worried about you.”
She shifts in her seat, tilting her head ever so slightly. “I’m not the one you should be worried about. You’re the one you should be worried about.”
“You’re missing my point here. You’re pregnant and you’re stalking people. Rather ruthlessly, actually. I appreciate that during pregnancy, hormones can change and alter the way you think and feel and react to certain situations. But I am concerned for your mental health as well as the health of your child once you deliver it if you’re unable to gain control of the situation. Have you spoken with your OB? With a therapist about any of this?”
She rolls her eyes derisively, folding her arms over her chest. “Don’t patronize me. I’m absolutely fine and I know exactly what I’m doing.”
Except she’s clearly not and I’ll have to talk to Grace about this since I think she’s her OB.
Nora glances down at the stone countertop, her shoulders slumping forward. “I could handle it when I knew the women meant nothing. When I knew it wouldn’t go anywhere.” She breathes out a heavy breath and meets my eyes once more, suddenly dejected, and I’m getting whiplash from her mood swings. “I can’t stand to see you with that gold-digging whore. Look at my phone, Oliver. You need to see it.”
She reaches out, tapping her phone until it illuminates again before she unlocks it. Holding it up, she practically shoves it in my face. It’s a picture of Amelia and my father standing outside what looks to be the hospital. She starts swiping until I’m stuck on a picture of my father handing her something. The next image is Amelia holding a check.
What the fuck is this? My father is trying to buy her off?
Why would he do that? Goddammit, why would he do that to her?
“Did you know your charity case is in quite a bit of financial trouble,” Nora goes on, misreading the fury as it dances across my face. “It’s no wonder she latched herself onto you so tightly.”
I shove her phone away, not wanting to see or hear any of this.
Nora smiles like the cat who ate the canary. “Right now, she’s holding onto about eighty thousand in debt. A debt that only increases with her monthly interest.” She taps her bottom lip. “Hmmm. I wonder how poor Amelia Bedelia was ever going to be able to get the kind of money it would take to eliminate that sort of debt? To people like us, that money is nothing. To people like her, it seems she’d go to any extremes to get it. Using you. Taking money from your father.”
Nora keeps going, but all I can think about is the eighty grand.
No wonder Amelia struggles the way she does. No wonder she never liked to talk about her situation. No wonder she needed the scholarship so badly for Layla. She never told me about it, and I understand why.
My father must have known. If Nora knows about it, my father must as well.
“Oliver, did you hear me?” Nora snaps, and I turn back to her, realizing I’m gripping the hell out of my counter.
“No. I stopped listening to you because I don’t care about anything you have to say. Why are you still here?”
She stands up, striding around the island in my direction, attempting to be sexy and seductive. It makes me sick to my stomach. It makes me sad for her. What must her life be like that she’s going to these extremes? Does her husband have any clue how unstable his pregnant wife is?
She stops before me, her hand meeting my abs before sliding up my chest, her eyes following. “I love you,” she whispers, now trying for sweet and contrite. I swear, could she be more mercurial? “I’ve always loved you. I screwed up. I know I did, but you’re it for me, Oliver. We’re it for each other. We have been since we were kids, babe. I never should have left you. Please, I want you to marry me. I want you to be the father to my baby. I want you to be with me. Not her.”
Dear Lord in Heaven, give me strength.
I open my mouth to tell her just how flipping off the deep end she is with that when my words get cut off.
“You really shouldn’t touch another woman’s fiancé,” Amelia says.
Nora twists around, taking a possessive step back into me. I shift around her, moving away. Closer to Amelia, though she’s not looking at me and something feels very wrong. Her entire disposition is off.
“We know about the check you took from Oliver’s father,” Nora hisses. “All about your debt.”
“Goodie gumdrops on you,” Amelia deadpans, unimpressed. “Nora, I’m going to say this once and then it will be done. You need to get the fuck over Oliver. You need to move on with your life. You need to seek professional help because stalking is no joke, and it speaks to you being unstable.” She takes a step and then another until she’s in Nora’s space without touching her. “But know this, pregnant or not, if you ever come near me, my sister, or Oliver again, I will call the police and file a restraining order. I will make sure it goes public. I will drag your name through the mud in ways you have never even begun to imagine. Think of what will happen then. Think of what happens to your baby if the state gets involved. Do yourself and your baby a favor, leave now and get your shit together.”
Nora scoffs, but there is fear in her eyes and in the tremble of her voice. “Oliver would never do that to me.”
“Oh, you can bet your ass I would,” I tell her. “I’ve already told you this more times than I can count, but because I’m getting the impression your mind is warping shit all wrong, I will spell it out for you again. You and I are done. I do not love you. I do not want you back. I am happy with Amelia. And yes, if I ever see you again, if you ever try to meddle in my life, Amelia’s life, or the lives of any member of our families, I will take you down. It’s a fucking promise. Now get the hell out of my house!” My voice booms as I point to the door because the woman still looks like she wants to argue it.
Finally, after what feels like the longest moment of my life, she tosses her hair back, squares her shoulders, and saunters to the door, closing it behind her like she hasn’t a care in the world. I can only pray she doesn’t push me because as much as I’d hate to do that to a pregnant woman, I will.
“Christ, I thought I’d never be rid of her,” I say, walking over to hug Amelia only to have her step back. My arms fall to my sides as I study her. And for what feels like the first time ever, I can’t read her. “Amelia?”
“Don’t you want to ask me about the check?”
“Nora said my dad offered you money.” I watch her closely, her posture rigid. It never even occurred to me that she would take it. “I’m sorry he did that,” I mumble, my voice not my own. I can see what’s coming. I can feel where this is headed.
“Two million dollars. That’s what I was worth to him to get rid of me.”
Shit. That fucking asshole.
“Amelia…” I don’t even know what to say. “He had no right to do that.”
“Don’t you want to know if I took it?”
I shake my head. “I know you didn’t.”
“Even now that you know about my debt? Are you so sure I wouldn’t do something like that?”
I am sure, so instead I go with, “Why didn’t you tell me about your debt?”
“Because it was none of your business. Just like it was none of your father’s business or Nora’s.”
“You could have told me. Opened up to me.”
“No, Oliver. No, I couldn’t have. You would have tried to pay it off. Just how you p
aid Layla’s tuition and then lied to me about it.”
Shit. So that’s what this is.
“Come here,” I plead because I need to explain myself to her and I need to do that with her in my arms.
She doesn’t come.
Altering her stance, she shifts her weight from one foot to the other, and I’m done with this. I can’t talk to her like this. My hand snatches hers, dragging it away from her chest, and walking her into my family room. She pulls her hand from mine, sitting on the chair instead of the sofa, and that right there tells me everything I need to know.
She’s done.
I sit on the couch, my elbows dropping to my knees, my head to my hands. I give myself a minute. A minute for that to sink in. For the panic and heartache to start to take over before I push them all down. I said I would never do this to myself again and I won’t. Even as the emotions threaten to rebel and take over, I don’t let them.
I clear my head and look up, meeting her distant eyes, a dark charcoal gray. Cold. Lifeless. But beneath that, broken. Flayed. A shadow of the woman I’ve fallen in love with these past few months. What did my father do to her?
“Wilchester was willing to give Layla the full scholarship,” I start. “But it would have been at the expense of another child, and I couldn’t do that. I couldn’t take away from one to give to another. So I paid it. I had told you Layla would not have to pay for anything at Wilchester and I kept my end of the arrangement.”
“But you never told me, Oliver. You lied to me about it.”
“I never told you I got her a scholarship.”
“Bullshit you didn’t. You had them write me a letter saying that’s what she got. It never once mentioned private funds. You had the school lie to me just as you lied to me.”
I push up off the sofa, storming over to the window. “I didn’t know what else to do. You and I made a deal, and I didn’t want you to back out of your side of things.”
