Total pages in book: 171
Estimated words: 164705 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 824(@200wpm)___ 659(@250wpm)___ 549(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 164705 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 824(@200wpm)___ 659(@250wpm)___ 549(@300wpm)
“Sorry. Yes.”
“Very well. If you must insist.”
Chapter Fifteen
Oliver
I entered Briar’s hospital room bracing myself to get maimed by an angry woman or deal with a cognitively five-year-old child who wanted me to play footsies with her. All options were on the table. It was certainly not beyond the scope of belief that she would see my face, remember the sheer hatred she felt toward me, and immediately try to stab me with any sharp object in the room.
But when I pushed the door open and treaded inside, I found a gorgeous, tired Briar staring out the window, looking very much like her usual self.
“Cuddlebug?”
“Hey, Ollie,” she whispered without turning to face me, her voice casual and raspy. “It feels like the sky is falling.”
All the pieces inside me that I’d managed to glue together haphazardly along the years fell apart, piling in the pit of my stomach like a ruined jigsaw.
I cleared my throat, digging my nails into my palms. “I’ll hold it up for you.”
Finally, she twisted to smile at me, patting the empty space on the edge of her bed. “Don’t just stand there. You have an entire lifetime to catch me up on.”
Oh. Kay.
She definitely didn’t remember the last fifteen years and the fact that I’d behaved like a grade-A prick every single day of them.
I claimed the spot by her thigh, greedily gulping her in up-close. Even without makeup, without her hair done, without trendy clothes, she was still the loveliest sight I’d ever seen.
Her beauty was everywhere. In the pools of purples, blues, and golds in her wild, compassionate eyes. So big, almost drawn, gifting an innocent edge to her chaotic beauty. In her pink rosebud mouth, full of wit and humor. In the constellation of freckles sprinkled on her nose and cheeks, the gentle curve of her brows. In the way I knew her laughter could seep into my bones and warm them up.
There was no point searching for a flaw. I’d find none. I’d spent over thirty years looking.
“I remember being clumsy, but I think I overdid it this time.” Briar sighed, casually weaving her fingers between my own.
My pulse kicked up a thousand fucking notches, but I forced myself to remain calm. Present Day Briar would rather set fire to her own face and put it out with a knife than be nice to me. But this Briar thought we were still friends.
She squeezed my hand. “Can you tell me what happened?”
I could, but that would put her in a stressful situation, and Doctor Cohen told me not to do that. So instead, I did what every man who’d spent the last fifteen years being an irresponsible fuckboy knew how to do. I lied.
“We were at the Grand Regent. You wanted to go for a walk. We went to the golf course, which is under maintenance, and you accidentally fell into a water hazard.”
This was the whitest lie I’d said in a while. Barely even a lie. A subjective truth, really.
She blinked. “What made me walk into a water hazard?”
“We were having an argument.”
She frowned. “What about?”
Yeah, fucker, why don’t you tell her?
I stared beyond her shoulder, at a painting of a vase on the wall. “Uh, flower arrangements.”
“What?”
Good question.
What the fuck, von Bismarck?
I could’ve chosen any other topic in the world – food, climate, politics, best vacation destinations, worst pizza topping (that would be a short argument, though. The answer was pineapples, and everyone knew that). They couldn’t have a painting about gender equality on the wall?
“We’re getting married?” Briar’s eyes lit up, and for the first time since we reunited, her lips bloomed into a smile. “Oh my god, Ollie!”
Before I knew what was happening, she clasped my cheeks in her tiny palms, pulling me in for a kiss. I was a bastard, but apparently, I had a moral or two left in me, because I gently seized her wrists, tilted my chin up, and kissed her gauzed-up forehead.
“We have to go with roses, Ol. Roses in all colors. Red. White. Pink. Coral. I love coral roses.”
“You will have all the roses you want, sweetheart.” I blamed my mouth, which wanted badly to appease her after years of letting her down. My mouth and every other part of my body except my brain. “All the flowers in the Americas and Europe combined. The whole world will be short of roses when I’m done decorating our wedding. Divorce rates will go through the roof. Valentine’s Day will be canceled.”
“That’s … um, psychotically romantic. Thank you.” Briar pawed my palm and brought my knuckles to her lips. “The nurse told me you jumped into the pond to save me.”
I gave her a grave nod.
A better man would feel guilty for what was happening right now. I did not deserve this woman’s adoration, let alone her smiles. But it felt good. Being the hero in Briar’s life again. Even if just for a few minutes.