Page 67 of Knocked up By the Minotaur

A knock at the door startles me, and I try to school my face to look normal as I head over. Ella mentioned she might pop by today, and…

My heart skips a beat when I swing the door open to see Oli standing before me. He looks just as wrecked as I feel, as if he didn’t get any sleep last night either.

He tries for a small smile, and it looks both hopeful and hopeless at the same time. “Can we talk?”

I want to slam the door in his face to protect myself from more hurt. Seeing him makes me want to cry again, I’m not ready to talk to him, not at all. “About what?”

His shoulders slump. “Grace…”

“Look, I’m busy right now.”

“Please.” His expression is sincere, his voice soft and cracking, but aren’t they always sincere just before they weave their next lie? “Grace, I… Last night, I—I’m sorry. The last thing I want is to hurt you. I didn’t mean for… I don’t want you to think…”

In the end, it’s his fumbled words that get to me. He’s always so put together, always knows what to say, and seeing him shattering around the edges cracks what little resolve I have left.

I pull back and start shutting the door so that he won’t see the way my tears are resurfacing. “Meet me at Heartwood Grove in an hour.”

The door shuts on him before he can reply, and before I can change my mind.

***

The little forest in the middle of town has always been a serene and beautiful place. While the enormous, ancient pines dominating the center of the grove are evergreen, there are still other trees dotted about, especially around the edges. They sway in the breeze now as Lucas and I slowly approach, releasing red and gold and brown leaves to dance in the air around us.

The seasons are changing, but my life remains the same pathetic mess it’s always been,

I spot Oli’s tall, solid frame long before we approach him. In dark denim and a sleek bomber jacket, his side profile is framed by the leaves as he stands with his back against a tree, horns curved and proud as he waits for us.

God, he didn’t even need me to tell him where to go. He just paid attention, learned which path I normally take into the grove, and headed there without needing to be mothered and cajoled. Why does he have to be so good in every way but the one that counts?

“Horsey! Hey Mamma, look, Oli’s here! Can I go say hi?”

I nod and release my hold on Lucas’s hand, letting him zoom down the path towards Oli, who crouches to receive him with a smile.

By the time I approach, Lucas is grinning ear to ear and bouncing on his toe. Oli stands, rubbing awkwardly at one of his horns as he looks at me. “Hi.”

“Lucas, remember how you wanted to go exploring in the trees on your own?” I bend down so that we’re eye to eye. “Now’s your chance, but remember to—”

“Stay where you can see me!” he squeaks with a giggle. “I know, I know, can I go now?”

“Yes, off you go.”

“Woo!”

He rushes off excitedly, leaving Oli and I behind in utter silence. I find myself unable to look at his handsome face, so I turn and begin a slow walk into the shelter of the canopy. Oli follows quietly.

“Lucas, baby, we’re walking,” I call, watching as he darts from tree to tree, bending to pick something up by each trunk. “Keep your eyes on us and keep up.”

“’Kay!”

I should say something. I should start the conversation, break the silence, but I just tug at the sleeves of my pullover and keep my eyes on my son. My heart pounds with every step, the unspoken words between us heavy. I try to steel myself to hear him take back his promise of commitment last night.

He looks over at me, and I keep looking steadfastly ahead.

“I’m sorry,” he says after a long moment, voice quiet. My feet stop moving beneath me.

Finally, I turn to look at him. “What are you sorry for.”

He pauses as well, turning to face me with his full body. His eyes dart once to look at Lucas behind me, and when they land back on mine they’re full of emotions I can’t even begin to interpret. “To start, I’m sorry about Sera. That I didn’t think to take my spare keycard back from her and allowed that situation to even happen—that’s on me. I wish you didn’t have to witness that.”

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