Shattered Heart (The Hart Series) (45 page)

“I’m sure you
won’t have any problem with the ladies when you get older, Mason.”  I run my
fingers through his hair before standing.

 
“Are you my
Daddy’s girlfriend?”  God, how is that even a child can make me blush?  “Cause
I have a girlfriend.  We share bubble gum.”

I giggle at his
innocence.  What I wouldn’t give to go back to when things were simpler.  “No,
your Daddy’s just my friend.”

“Gampa, Gampa
Daddy has a friend.  Her name is Lyssa.”

The male genes
in this family must be strong.  The resemblance between the man who has made
his way over to us, and the two generations after him, is remarkable.  “Dad,
this is Elyssa.” 

We shake hands,
and just as instantly as I felt acceptance with Oliver, his Dad makes me feel
the same.  His strong, yet soft hand engulfs mine, and he smiles.  “It’s a
pleasure to meet any friend of my son’s.”  I smile and nod.  It would be easy
to get use to this.

“You taking him
to school?”  Oliver asks his Dad, bringing him in for a full on bear hug.

“Yah, the little
guy didn’t want to leave until he saw you.”  Oliver’s Dad points to the door. 
“You guys must be tired.  Go inside and make yourselves at home.” 

“Alright buddy,
give me a hug.”  Mason runs back to where Oliver stands and says goodbye.

Before getting
in the car, Mason whispers to Oliver, “Daddy you should share your bubble gum
with her.  She knows who Thor is.”  He giggles and slams the door to the late
model Charger. 
Boys and their toys.  I guess this is another trait all
Prescott men share.

            Oliver smirks in my
direction.  I’m not sure if its pride or the uncanny resemblance Mason has to
Oliver’s persistence, but whatever it is, the look Oliver’s giving me could set
a woman’s panties on fire.

Oliver takes my
duffle bag and grabs my hand leading me inside.  “Come on, I’ll show you to
your room.” 

~~~~~

Their home is
warm, inviting, and reminds me of a time when I believed everything was right
in the world.  Once Mason came home from school, he was so excited that he woke
me from my nap, which was a good thing since I wanted to take a shower and
change my clothes before spending the night with Oliver’s family.

After a quick
shower, I pull on a pair of jeans and pair it with a simple pink blouse before
walking down the hallway.  The living room is lit with the crackling fire from
a nearby fireplace.  Oliver and Mason are laid out on their belly’s staring
over a piece of paper, which I assume is his homework. 

“What’re you
guys studying?” I inquire from the mouth of the hallway.

Both Oliver and
Mason look up at me as I get closer, kneeling on the floor next to them.

“Mason is the
star student of the week.  So he has to talk about himself tomorrow.”  Oliver
points to a poster size piece of paper with a large star fish on it.

I look at the different
sections and notice a portion that asks him what his favorite day of the week
is.  “So what’s your favorite day of the week?” 

“Saturday.”  He
looks up at me as he explains, “I know that when I wake up, my Daddy will be
home.”  When he’s done, he tilts his head to Oliver and grins.  Honestly, if
that doesn’t warm you heart, I don’t know what would. 

I watch as Mason
draws a picture of him and Oliver, who’s at least nine feet tall in Crayola
world, throwing a ball to one another.  Oliver patiently helps Mason cut out
different pictures from magazines that he, with Oliver’s help, glues to
different parts of the poster paper. 

His masterpiece
is almost finished, final touches include a picture of Thor (of course), one of
his grandparents, and lastly one of his Dad.  I look over the paper and notice
the lack of a mother figure.  Regardless, Mason is a sweet, charismatic boy who
gives me hope.

Silverware
clanking nearby draws my attention to Oliver’s Dad.  While I observe him set
the table, the scent of something mouth-watering wafts in from the nearby
kitchen.  When I stand, Oliver’s hand brushes mine; we have a very short but
intense staring contest before he asks where I’m headed.

 “I think I’m
going to see if your Mom needs my help.”  He nods, giving Mason back his
attention like nothing happened, therefore so do I and I follow the heavenly
aromas like Toucan Sam.  I find Oliver’s Mom running around, grabbing items
from the fridge, chopping some shallots, and then running back to the stove to
stir.

“Do you need any
help?”

Oliver’s Mother,
whose name I learned when we came in the house this morning is Rebecca, turns
and gives me the same sweet grin her grandson just gave.  “Sure dear, could you
take the rolls out of the oven and place them in that basket for cooling?”

I grab the oven
mitts.  “Thank you for letting me stay in your home.  Your house is beautiful.”

She looks around
her comfy abode with love in her eyes.  “I’ve raised my family in this house. 
A home full of memories is what makes it worth living in.”

I hope to have
that; a home where I can raise my baby.  My mind goes back to the last happy
moments I had with Alex.  When he offered to sell his house and buy us a home. 
A home he intended to live in with me; where we could raise our baby together. 

My eyes roam
over the little knick knacks that line the counter top and the wall full of
pictures they’ve accumulated over the years.  My eyes start to water.  His
Mother rushes over and wraps her arms around my shoulders.  “Oh honey, are you
okay?” 

“I’m sorry,
Rebecca.  Really I’m fine.”  I try to bat away her affections.  What a nut I
must seem.  I come home with her son, meet the family, and end up sobbing in a
kitchen with his Mother and a handful of rolls.  Before I turn into a complete
mess, I respond with the honesty.  “You have an incredible family.  Just brings
back memories.”

She nods.  She
seems to know that I’m not going to give her more, and I say that because she
goes right back to stirring her gravy.  A little while later the table is
dressed with a roasted chicken, multiple sides of veggies, mashed potatoes and
a bottle of wine.  The doctor said I could have a glass, but I’ve realized that
pregnancy has made me super paranoid.  I don’t want to chance anything going
wrong.

Mason is the
cutest kid on the planet.  The way he tells us about his day, how he shared a
piece of gum with his girlfriend and she kissed him on the cheek.  If
relationships were that easy, then I’d share a billion pieces of gum with Alex
and we’d be the happiest couple ever.  Marriages would require a prescription
of Hubba Bubba and all would be right with the world.

During dinner I
also learned that Oliver’s parents have been married for thirty years.  Can you
imagine thirty years with the same person? 
Well actually, I had those same
thoughts when I agreed to move in with Alex. 
I pictured us during the
first day of Kindergarten, Prom, High School graduation, and everything in
between
and
after. 

It’s really kind
of sad that I’m having a beautiful dinner with the most perfect family, yet all
my thoughts keep traipsing back to Alex.  I desperately needed the time to
clear my head, but I was wrong when I thought distance would help.  Now my
brain is even cloudier than before.

“So Elyssa, do
you have a boyfriend?”  I choke on a piece of chicken as Oliver glares at his
mother from across the table.  “What?  That’s a perfectly normal question,
right?”  She feigns a look of innocence, but I can tell this is where Oliver
gets his mouth from.  His father on the other hand has been quiet, yet socially
pleasant.

“Um-Uh…I’m not
so sure.  We’re…it’s complicated,” I stutter, twirling my fork through the lake
of gravy on my plate.

“Mom, leave her
alone.”  Oliver tries to come to the rescue, which is shocking considering he’s
usually the one strong arming me about said relationship status. 

“I’m just trying
to figure out if I have another grandchild coming in the future.” 
Oh my
God, is this woman freaking psychic?  Baby yes, Oliver being the Daddy, no. 

“MOM!  She’s my
friend.  She just needed to get out of town for awhile.  Leave it.”

“Well, I figured
something made you move to a whole different state.  I thought maybe she was
the reason.”

“Rebecca, stop
emasculating your son.”  I giggle out of pure awkwardness while Oliver’s Dad
chews on a piece of chicken.

“What’s
emas-cul-ating?” Mason asks, trying to pronounce the word slowly.

We all look at
one another before erupting in laughter, ending the uncomfortable
conversation.  Oliver apologizes with his eyes as he rolls them in his mother’s
direction.  I tilt my head and shrug my shoulders in response.  No harm done.

I wonder how
much of Oliver’s pursuit his Mother really knows about.  I’m sure it’s more
than she’s letting on.  They have a closeness, a bond, that you only need be in
the room to feel.  There’s a flutter in my belly for the first time and I
wonder if the feeling is the baby or the unease of comfort I feel around this
strangely charismatic family. 

A glance over at
Oliver, I see him throw his head back in laughter after tossing a piece of
bread at his Dad’s casual nature.  They make it seem so easy.  Family.  It’s
been me, Rachel and Bryan for the longest and although we’re the three
musketeers, it’s never felt
this
easy.  It could be the emptiness we
feel from our parents’ absence.  It could be the fact that, although Rachel
tried to be a mother figure, she really is just my sister.  Regardless, being
here and seeing what I’ve seen with only a day under my belt, gives me
something to shoot for in my future.

“Daddy!” Mason
yells above the roar of laughter from the table.  Everyone quiets down looking
at the little brown headed boy.  “Let’s go watch a movie before grandma
emasculates you again.”  He giggles, grabbing his plate to take into the
kitchen.

“You heard the
man,” Oliver whispers in my ear after casually picking up my plate to follow
behind his son.

Saturday, December 15, 2012
         

All I remember
from last night was falling asleep during the movie, snuggled next to a
stretched out Mason.  When he grabbed my arm to drape it across his chest,
nestling into my shoulder, I almost lost it.  He’s the most affectionate kid
I’ve ever met, not that I’ve been around too many children.  There was
something so comforting knowing that he took to me so quickly. 

Jostled awake, I
recall opening my eyes to find myself tucked closely to Oliver.  He carried me,
infant style; arms under my shoulders and knees, my head resting on his
shoulder.  He must have already taken Mason to bed, because I distinctly
remember Oliver’s scent being the only one in the room.  I’m not sure what it
is about men and how they smell, but when a man smells good, it’s practically
toe curling orgasmic.  Oliver doesn’t use the expensive colognes, instead he
smells clean, like aftershave mixed with his natural rugged scent.  Not my
favorite, only because it’s not Alex, but he comes in at a close second. 

That right there
is precisely the problem.  For me, Oliver seems to always come in second, and
he, of all people, doesn’t deserve to be anyone’s second.  He is worthy of
being someone’s one and only. 

But, how can I
forget the selfless act as he tucked me into bed last night.  When his lips
lightly grazed my forehead, I pretended to be asleep.  The sheer intimacy when
a man shows affection when no one is aware is something to cherish.  A man with
his emotions, with no ulterior motives, is priceless.  When we made it into my
room, he decided to tuck me in.  I could feel him hovering over me, and after a
beat he bent down and brushed his nose against the nape of my neck and inhaled,
placing the softest, sweetest kiss above my brow.  The last thing I remember
before I allowed slumber to take me away was Oliver’s deep sigh before he
closed the door.

I’m a little
surprised at how much rest I was able to get.  When Alex left for New York, I
was lucky to get in a few hours of sleep a night.  Tossing and turning, but
then finally giving up, only to be exhausted the rest of the day.  So,
considering how I’ve destroyed him and broken my own heart, I really am
surprised I was able to sleep through the entire night.  I guess Oliver has
turned into my own dream catcher; chasing the nightmares away.  I’m not blind,
though.  I know there will be a cost for running away, right into his arms.  I
need to tread carefully.  The last thing I want to do is lead him on or give
him false hopes.

Believe it or
not, I have learned from my mistakes with Cole.  With him, I never stuck by the
limitations of friendship and continuously forgave him when he overstepped my
boundaries.  For God’s sake, I forgave him after miscarrying our baby, along
with the years and years of him being overbearing and nosey as hell.  I can’t,
and won’t, make the same mistake again.

Now, its morning
and I’ve woken up to breakfast in bed.  Technically, I had already been awake
and on the verge of falling back asleep when Oliver came in with breakfast.  I
was woken up by my cell incessantly ringing.  Who, you ask, would be calling at
seven in the morning on a Saturday?  Who else, but an extremely panicked Rachel
wondering where I was.  I gave her the simplest explanation possible, but I
still got lectured.  I, once again, had to remind her that I was an adult and
she needed to take a chill pill instead of buying a collar and kenneling my ass
for the next eight months.  She conceded and let me go, hence the trying to go
back to sleep.

And, even though
I’ve had breakfast in bed many times with Alex, it was still sweet.  Oliver
even let me sleep in until eleven o’clock before nudging me awake and enticing
me with mapley goodness.  I didn’t ask about our plans until I finished the
very last bite, teasing him to thank his mother for the food.  Oliver pretended
his ego was hurt and reminded me that he made it all on his own, adding that
breakfast was a perk if I finally gave him a chance. 

I blushed of
course and chose to avoid the statement entirely, asking again about our plans
for the afternoon.  Apparently, his friends are throwing a barbeque on the
beach and since the weather has been seasonally warm, Oliver thought it would
be the perfect opportunity to get some beach time in.  Before he left me to get
ready, he warned me to bring a sweater in case it got cold, reminding me it is
still December.

~~~~~

Driving down the
highway, windows rolled down, wind in my hair, I should feel freer.  But, I
don’t.  I’m nervous and it shows; constantly toying with my ring while looking
out the window as the world whizzes by.  At times it feels like I’m living my
life the same way;
it
whizzing by while
I
stay stagnant.  I
didn’t realize we’d arrived at the beach until I heard shuffling and car doors
slamming. 
Wake up, Ely.  Enjoy life while you can.

A crowd screams,
“Ollie!  Over here!” as we get out of the car and make our way down the sandy
path towards several picnic benches.  As we get closer, I notice a portable
hibachi grill has been set up; a blonde guy with long wavy locks squats next to
it, flipping the meat and watching over it meticulously. 

Oliver waves,
pulling me by my elbow towards the crowd, “Come on, they won’t bite.”

“I’m nervous,” I
admit.  I’ve never been one to hang around crowds of people, and since college,
I’ve avoided them as much as possible.  I know, I know, this isn’t a frat
party.  There are no predator’s waiting in the darkness.  But, knowing that
doesn’t make the situation any less nerve wrecking.

“Don’t worry,
I’ll protect you.”  He smiles back at me and I feel more at peace with those
five simple words.  Suddenly, Oliver comes to an abrupt stop, a bit of anger
and anxiety rolling off of him like waves.  I know, even before I look, what
has caused me to unexpectedly bump into him.  Melanie.  The one woman who will
always make him fall short; at least in his eyes. 

When I finally
do peek around him, I see the banshee herself playing Frisbee with her…well, I
don’t know what to call him; boyfriend?  I take my gaze off Melanie when I
notice a man with short blonde hair, wearing only red Hawaiian print board
shorts, approaching us with a look of mercy on his face. 

“Dude, I didn’t
know she would be here.  Shannon invited her before I knew you were even
coming.”

“A heads up
would have been nice, man.  What the fuck am I supposed to do about this?” 
Oliver raises his arms in frustration before slapping them against his muscular
thighs, effectively revealing me behind him. 
I wasn’t trying to hide,
really I wasn’t.

“And who is this
beautiful thing?”  Ignoring the meltdown Oliver is having directly in front of
us, his friend questions him with a seductive smirk spreading across his lips. 
Can’t say the guy isn’t cute, what with his Southern California laid back
style.

Oliver opens his
mouth, but quickly closes it as he looks back at me.  At the restaurant, I was
his girlfriend.  So, because we already told Melanie this, I’m assuming this
little white lie needs to continue now that she’s here.  My heart beats
faster.  I’m not a good liar.  And, you know what’s worse than pretending to be
with someone else while you still love another?  Pretending to be with someone
else, while you still love another, all the while his ex is twenty feet away
bouncing around in dental floss giving you the stink eye.

“This is
Elyssa…my…” his strained voice elevates, looking between his friend and his ex.

I move to
Oliver’s side, take his hand in mine and smile sweetly up at him as I grasp his
bicep with my other hand.  Oliver immediately looks relieved and squeezes my
hand.  If I can make this situation more comfortable for him, then I’m being a
good friend.  Right? 
Right…

“Girlfriend…I’m
Elyssa, his girlfriend.”  I reach out my hand to greet him.  Having other plans
in mind, he grasps my hand and brings me forward into a big bear hug.

“Nice to meet
you, too.”  I giggle nervously when Oliver’s friend tightens his embrace.  “Brad. 
The names Brad,” he says, reluctantly releasing me.  Oliver pulls me back by
his side and then proceeds to punch his friend in the shoulder.

“Keep your hands
off.  She’s mine.”  When Oliver brings me in for an even tighter hold against
him, I start to get the idea he might be using this situation to his
advantage. 

Brad chuckles
and leads us over to the area full of friends and tables full of food.  After
I’m introduced to the group, everyone seeming nice enough, I sit and straddle
the picnic bench.  Awkwardly aware of the tension between Oliver and Melanie,
numerous members of the group continually look between the three of us. 
Unfortunately, the loop between me, Oliver and Melanie is continuous and I can
see in some of their eyes the desire to witness the drama that’s inevitable. 

I sure as hell
didn’t come for this.  I came to get away; to get my head clear and have a game
plan in place.  But the situation, thus far, hasn’t allowed me a minute to
myself.  Instead, I have to steal moments when I can.

Like right now.

Looking out at
the ocean, the sound of the waves crashing, the wind blowing through my hair,
my mind wanders back to Alex, specifically our trip to San Diego.  When we came
together that weekend, it was magical.  We didn’t have a care in the world
except for the pleasure we took in one another.  It was exactly what we needed
at the time. 

But, herein lies
the problem that doesn’t seem to go away.  Being around Alex makes me forget
all that’s at risk by being with him.  Yet, when I’m away, I miss him with a
soul shattering ache that consumes me and takes over, leaving me a broken
mess.  I’m damned if I do and I’m damned if I don’t.  

“What’re you
thinking about?” Oliver whispers in my ear.  He scoots forward, his thighs
cradling mine.  I can feel his chest against my back when he inches closer.

I hesitate,
contemplating how much I want to share with him, yet knowing how it will
destroy the peace we have right now.  “You don’t want to know.”

“Alex?”  Too
quickly, I nod.  Oliver wraps his arms around me, pulling me against his
chest.  “You know, being with someone isn’t supposed to be this hard.  Loving
someone should be the easiest thing you do in life, like falling.”

“Well, falling
hurts,” I mutter before his ex and Rex sit across from us on the cluttered
table. 
I guess my time is up.

From what I’ve
been able to tell, Melanie is a lap girl.  What’s a lap girl?  You know how
some breeds of dogs are called lap dogs?  Well, she’s a lap girl.  Melanie
straddles Rex’s knees, jumping up and down, her breasts practically hitting her
in the face as she watches the guys get their boards ready to surf. 
Ridiculously annoying. 

“Ollie, you
coming?” Brad asks, gesturing to an extra board he brought. 

Oliver turns to
me, “You gonna be alright?”  His eyes veer in Melanie’s direction and then back
to me.  I can tell he wants to go and he’s already given up enough of his
weekend for me as it is.  I’m not going to ruin this for him, too.

“Of course, go
have fun, babe.”  I try to sound confident, however, I’m not quite sure how
well I hid how uncomfortable I am around her.  But, I can suck it up for a few
hours.

Rex gestures
towards the guys who are running into the surf.  “Babe, you gotta get off.” 

Melanie kisses
him.  Not just a peck; this is a full blown tongue twisting, lip biting, tongue
sucking mouth gorging kiss.  One you can probably hear the exchange of fluids
from a mile away.

“Miss me,” she
whines, moving from his lap onto the bench.

“I’ll be back
and when I do…I hope you’ll tell me what’s wrong.”  Oliver leans down, placing
a sweet peck against my lips.  The instant his lips touch mine, my face
flushes, red hot.  I don’t know why, but the moment they leave, my hand darts
up to touch my finger tips against the warmth he left behind.  I should have
known that pretending to be his girlfriend would equate to some sort of
affection. 

Damn it.

He really is a
catch.  I know I’m usually all tangled up in Alex to really notice Oliver, but
he’s the type of guy you spend forever with.  Why can’t I be that simple?

Oliver lifts his
dark blue shirt, tossing it to the sand before leaning to grab his borrowed
board.  The muscles of his back contract as he carries it over his head,
jogging to the crashing waves.  He’s toned in all the right places, oblique’s,
abs, pecs, you name it, he’s got it covered.  Have I mentioned his tattoos? 
Wow.  His ink spans from his biceps and wrap around his shoulders, continuing
down his back.  Some tribal, some scripture; I’m definitely going to have to
check that out later. 

“He’s not the
guy you should fall in love with.”  My appreciation of the male form,
specifically Oliver’s male form, is disrupted.  Melanie stares me down from
across the bench, not seeming to care that I don’t want to talk to her

“How do you
figure?”

“We have a kid
together.” 

“Your point?” 
From what I understand, Melanie has no custody, therefore no say in his life. 
Why she thinks to bring this up is beyond me.