A Chance for Us (Willow Creek Valley Book 4) Page 24

  I walk over to the desk and grab the pen. “Sounds good to me.”

  He extends the paperwork and then pulls it back. “Giving up is kind of your thing, so I guess this fits.”

  When he puts the envelope back in front of me, I grab it and yank it away from him, tossing it on the table. “What the fuck does that mean?”

  “What?”

  “The giving up thing. I don’t give up.”

  “No?” Jack asks, pursing his lips. “Really? Because there was the girl you were engaged to in high school . . . what was her name? Janelle? Janice?”

  I huff. “Janie.”

  “Ah, that’s right. When that ended, you went to college, to a school that you weren’t planning to go to but was clear across the country, which looked like running away to me, but what do I know?”

  “Not much.”

  “Then there was Devney. You met her in college, followed her out to Pennsylvania after begging your dad to let you take over that resort, and then let her go without even a fight.”

  I clench my fists, wondering if Stella would forgive me if I broke his nose.

  “You’re one to talk. You’ve loved Stella since you were, what? Twenty-two? And it took you until a year ago to get your shit together?”

  “So, you’d rather spend fifteen years wishing you could be with her, love her, hold her, and give her everything than actually getting to do it?”

  “I was with Maren for a month and a half.”

  “And I kissed Stella once and spent years wishing I could do it again.” He throws his arms up. “Don’t make that same mistake, Oliver. Don’t let your pride or fear of being hurt again stand in the way of what you want. Don’t run away. Don’t refuse to fight for her. Go to her. Talk to her and find out what the hell you can do to make her see how much you love her.”

  “I’m tired of it!”

  It’s not that easy. She wants out, and I’m not going to beg someone to stay with me. I won’t be like my mother, taking the scraps of whatever is offered. I won’t be like my father, forcing someone to stay when you wish they’d leave. If she wants her freedom, then that’s what she’ll have.

  “Then there’s nothing I can say other than this, if you have even a sliver of doubt that you misunderstood her motivation, then you owe it to yourself to call her and find out. Let her tell you, in no uncertain terms, that it’s over.”

  Pretty sure her stance was clear the second she asked a lawyer to draw up the paperwork. That’s the part that no one seems to understand.

  “I’ll take it under advisement.”

  Jack chuckles. “I swear you are the most stubborn group of people I’ve ever met.”

  “Maybe so, but I’d rather be that than a fool.”

  “I think you’re both, but . . . no matter what, you’re still my brother.”

  I walk over, and we clasp hands. “Always.”

  “Sign it before you go, Oliver. Have one less thing on your mind before you start your treatment. Okay?”

  He’s right. I need a clear mind and to be wholly focused on my fight and getting healthy.

  “I will.”

  When Jack leaves, I grab the envelope and sink onto the couch. It’s been four days since I stormed out of her house, and I’m in absolute misery.

  I miss her voice. I want to ask her about her day and tell her the funny stories about the guest requests we got for next week. I want to tell her how fucking terrified I am about starting chemo, and how, despite knowing we caught it early and my prognosis is good, I’m worried treatment won’t actually work.

  It’s her I want by my side, not my sister.

  I pull out the papers, reading over the legal jargon that will officially end this if the judge grants it.

  It lays out all the ways the marriage was formed under false pretenses, and I want to laugh.

  It was a lie. All of it. The memories of us that I cherished are fabrications and worthless.

  I get to the last page, seeing her signature already there, and then I hover over the signature line, hating that I will be ending what never should’ve been started.

  I can’t do it. I can’t sign it. Not now.

  I grab the envelope to put the paperwork back in, only to find a folded paper jammed in the bottom.

  I pull it free and open it, finding a handwritten list. A list that changes everything.

  A list that tells me I really am a fool, and I hurt the woman I love.

  Thirty-Three

  MAREN

  Today sucked.

  Every day sucks if I’m being totally honest.

  But today was especially sucky. The mission went sideways, causing every contingency plan I had to fall to shit. I’m off my game, and it almost cost someone their life.

  After a very long conversation with the two owners, I’m taking the rest of the week off to clear my head.

  Only, being home—alone—isn’t really helping. Everything reminds me of Oliver.

  I’m going to burn the house down and move. It’s the only option.

  Since my flair for the dramatics is in high gear, I decide to do only mundane things, so I grab the phone, hover over his name for the millionth time, and then fail to actually call him.

  No, I am following my ex-fiancé’s advice and giving it time.

  Who cares that it’s been four days of absolute hell? What does time matter when your heart feels as though it’s been ripped from your chest? Wounds heal, scars fade, and you learn to move on.

  I just need that part to kick in.

  I throw my clothes into the dryer, go to slam the door, and close the door on my freaking fingers.

  “Damn it!” I scream, clutching my hand as I bounce around. “Great. This is just what I needed. Thank you universe!”

  After I grab the ice and wrap it around my possibly broken finger, I sit out on the back deck.

  “If I get stung by a bee, I’m seriously going to lose it.” I speak directly to nature, hoping it heeds my threat and stays far away from me.

  I rest in the swing, letting the rustling of leaves and the faint sounds of the ocean a few blocks away be my companion.

  The throbbing in my hand keeps me from falling asleep, but it does give me a reprieve from the ache in my heart.

  “Maren?”

  I hear Oliver’s voice, but I know that’s not possible. I wonder if pain can make you hallucinate.

  “Maren, are you here?” I hear him again. I sit up so quickly that I fall off the swing.

  “Ouch!” I complain, rubbing my tailbone. That freaking hurt too.

  There’s a banging on the door.

  Hallucinations don’t knock, do they?

  Probably not, so it seems he’s here. I push to my feet and limp to the door while I cradle my hand and the ice pack.

  When I open it and see him, I can’t breathe. He looks better than I remember. His dark hair is falling slightly over his eye, and the stubble on his chin is now a full beard. He looks worn, miserable, and broken, which is probably what I look like.

  He looks at my hand. “What happened?”

  “I closed it in the dryer door and then I fell off the swing when I heard your voice. If you’re here to tell me how much you don’t love me, could you just finish me off?”

  Oliver shakes his head. “I’m not here for that.”

  “Here to tell me how much of a liar I am?”

  “I deserve that.”

  Yeah, he does. “Why are you here?”

  He reaches into his back pocket and pulls out a piece of green notebook paper similar to the kind I use when I’m writing my lists.

  “I came to go over this with you, but I’m not as good at this as you are.” He steps closer. “I could use some help.”

  Words escape me so I just nod.

  “Reasons not to sign the annulment,” he reads. “Pro: I love her. I want to kiss her. I want to give her my heart and soul. I don’t want an annulment. I want to spend my life with her. I need her.”

  Tears fil
l my eyes as he glances at me and then keeps reading.

  “Con: Blank.”

  My lip trembles.

  “See, I couldn’t think of one reason to sign it. Not one.” Oliver moves closer so we’re toe-to-toe. “I kept trying to convince myself that it would be better if I did, but I can’t. Give me a reason, Maren. Tell me why I should sign it, why did you want me to?”

  Finally, he’s asking me. Finally, I’ll get to explain. “Because I want to choose you. I want you to know, always, that you’re the only man I want. Not because we were trapped or some sort of chivalry but because I want to choose you, Oliver Parkerson. Every day.”

  He shakes his head. “I choose us.”

  He leans down, kissing me tenderly, and I can taste the salty tears. My arms wrap around his neck, holding him where I need him—with me.

  When he leans back, his hands frame my face. “I was a dick. I said things . . .”

  “I screwed up. I never should’ve told you that way. There were a million better ways to handle it. I’m sorry that I hurt you.”

  “We both did that.”

  When I push up on my toes, I kiss him again. “I have been so miserable.”

  His hands drop to mine, and he’s careful of my injured finger. “I have to tell you something.” There’s a slight tremble in his voice. “One that may change this whole entire mood.”

  “Okay?”

  We sit on the couch, and his eyes don’t leave mine. “I’m sick, Maren. I got my test results the day we buried your father, and they said I have cancer.”

  My heart stops. I can’t breathe or think or move. No, not him. Please not him.

  “Wh-what?”

  “I’m stage IA, and the doctor assures me that we caught it early, but I start chemotherapy on Friday. I didn’t tell you sooner because you were dealing with everything and I didn’t know much. Just that the biopsy came back cancerous. I was going to tell you the weekend I was here, but . . .” He flinches, clearly not wanting to finish that sentence. “It’s only in the one lymph node, and they’re very optimistic that I’ll only need two rounds.” He sighs heavily. “If you don’t want to go through this, I understand. You just lost your—”

  “We will fight, Oliver. We will stand together, and we will fight. I love you, and that doesn’t mean only when you’re healthy or happy. It means sickness and pain and everything between. I don’t choose you only when it’s convenient.”

  As though I would ever let him do this alone. It will be hard, but it won’t be so unbearable if we do it together. I love him with everything inside me.

  “You want to be there for me, even after just losing your dad?”

  “I want to be there because you’re my heart. Now, tell me the plan and let’s prepare—together.”

  “Stop being such a baby,” I tell him as I tuck him into his bed.

  “You know I’m perfectly fine.”

  “For now, but I am preparing in case that changes.”

  Oliver grabs my wrist. “I may have no side effects or I may be miserable, but either way, we’ll be okay.”

  My God, I love this man. Even after the first round of chemo, he’s worrying about me.

  I thought this would be much harder to handle, but I’m actually okay. We spent a good amount of time with his doctor and delayed the start of his treatment by a week. Oliver and his doctor had discussed the possible complications of him having kids, but they never really planned to address it. So, after some consideration, Oliver opted to have a sample, er, frozen. In case we need it down the road, it’ll be there.

  It also gave us—or me—time to come up with a very practical plan. I spoke with Mark and Jackson, explained the situation, and now have the ability to work from home. The only stipulations are that I will need to go to the office once a month for briefings, and they insisted on sending a team to Oliver’s cabin this week to install all kinds of security firewalls and satellite whatevers so our missions won’t be compromised.

  For the rest of the month, though, I am on FMLA. Being married allowed me the opportunity to be here and care for him. More than that, it gives us some much-needed time to really see where this relationship stands.

  My hand grazes his stubbly cheek. “Please rest.”

  “I will.”

  “Good. Now, I’m going to see your siblings, give them an update, and let you know what they say when I get back.”

  He shakes his head. “Godspeed.”

  I grin. “Go to sleep.”

  This lake, the nature, peace, and silence does something to me. I feel more like myself when I’m here than I did the last time. It could also be that I’m with Oliver, but even when we were together at my house, it wasn’t the same as it is here.

  The walk up to the resort takes about ten minutes, and I enjoy every second of it.

  “Hey, Maren,” Jack says as he meets me on the trail.

  “Hi.” Kinsley waves with a smile.

  “Hey, you guys.”

  “How’s Uncle Oliver?”

  I smile. “He’s doing really well right now.”

  She stares up at her father. “Can I go see him since he’s okay?”

  Jack looks to me, and I nod.

  It’s not as if he’s going to be asleep already, and it’ll give me a little peace that she’s there in case he needs help.

  “I’ll keep watch!” she promises as she runs off.

  “Those kids have always loved him the most.”

  “He’s the fun one,” I say in agreement.

  “He also spoils them beyond belief.”

  Jack and I stay silent for a minute as we make our way up the path. “How is the custody agreement going?”

  “It’s good. Samuel is a great guy, and ultimately, we all want what’s best for Kinsley, so there’s no fighting. We are just making it legal in case something happens to any of us.”

  I know that all too well. “It’s smart. My mother died young, and I can remember worrying what would happen if I lost my dad too.”

  “My mother died in a fire when I was a kid, and my dad might as well have died alongside her. It was the Parkersons who kept me afloat. I want Kinsley to have a family that will always be there for her. Much like you have.”

  I nod with a smile. “They’re something.”

  “You’ve had a really rough few months, Maren, and I hope you know this family is here for you as well. I know I’m the outsider, but trust me, my wife runs these guys.”

  That’s very accurate. “I appreciate it. This family is really special, and I’m honored to be a part of it, especially after watching how everyone has stepped up to be there for Oliver if he needs help. I’m looking forward to spending this time with you all.”

  All of it is working out the way I hoped it would. Finally, one plan is going right.

  “We are all really happy you guys are happy. He’s one of the best men I know and deserves to have everything he wants. And this is none of my business, but what did you guys decide about the annulment?”

  Ah, the stupid annulment. “We used it for the fire last night.”

  Jack grins. “Good. I’m glad you guys figured that out before you wasted years being apart.”

  “Me too.” I think about how hard those few days were and know that Oliver is who I want and need. “Me too.”

  Thirty-Four

  OLIVER

  ~One Year Wedding Anniversary~

  She’s been blindfolded for the last thirty minutes and pissed off the entire time. Maren hates surprises, and I can only imagine how crazy her overactive imagination has been as we drove here. However, today matters more than she can ever know, and I want things to be perfect.

  “This is ridiculous,” she complains as we approach the farmhouse.

  “I know.”

  “No, you don’t because unless you’re blindfolded, which I really hope you’re not since you’re driving, you can see where we are.”

  “It’s called a surprise.”

  Her head whips t
oward mine. “I loathe them.”

  “Really? I couldn’t tell. You’ve been such a ray of sunshine this whole trip.”

  If she could glare at me, I’m pretty sure she would be. “How much longer?” Her voice isn’t full of vinegar.

  “Just a few more minutes. I promise that this is a good surprise.” I lean over, taking her hand in mine. “Trust me.”

  “I do trust you, I just want to know.”

  “Hence, the trust.”

  Maren sighs heavily and leans her head back. I allowed Stella to tie the blindfold on me so I could make sure I couldn’t see anything through it. I couldn’t, which means Maren can’t either, so that has probably been the biggest point of frustration for my wife.

  We take the twists in the road and arrive at the farmhouse. It’s a beautiful property with green hills, a little bridge that goes over the small creek that cuts across the fields, and a modest house that overlooks it all.

  Anyone can understand why this farm was worth keeping. Maren and I came here for a week after my second round of chemo. It was exactly what we both needed—peace and quiet. I love my family, but they’ve been a pain in the ass. At least once a day, someone from my bloodline came to the cabin.

  One of those days was one Stella regretted very much as Maren and I weren’t dressed when she walked in without knocking.

  The last few months of our lives have been focused on making it work and finding the balance between working and spending time together. I am tired of it. We both are. It’s been hard, but in the end, Maren is worth all the hardship. Before her, I never knew love like this, and I am going to hold on to it with both hands.

  Today is the start of that. It’s a celebration of where we are and what we’ve overcome. I’ve been cancer free the last six months, and we got through it stronger than ever before. Maren has been at my side the whole time, never wavering. She has shown me what true love is, and I never want her to wonder how I feel about her.