Page 107 of Sparking Sara

“I know. I’m sorry. I’ll find someone else to watch Kokomo.”

“It’s not that. Of course I’ll watch him. Don’t you think you’re being a bit hasty with the whole going to London thing?”

“Ollie says I love London. And I’m supposed to get back to doing the things I used to love, aren’t I?”

He gives me a reluctant nod. “Yes, but …” He glances over to the wall where he had me pinned moments ago.

“Don’t you have a phone call to return?” I ask.

“I’m not with—”

“Here you go, darling,” Oliver says, coming up behind me with a glass of wine. He nods to his own glass and then to Denver. “Are you sure you won’t join us?”

“Thanks, but I have to go. We’ll work out the details with Kokomo as soon as you have your dates set.”

“Thanks for helping out with him,” Ollie says. Then he turns to me. “I’m going to go draw you a bath. I know how sore your leg gets after therapy.”

“Thank you.”

I watch him walk away and then I look back over at the painting. I pick it up and hand it to Denver. “You should take it.”

“But you said you’d never let it go,” he says, narrowing his eyes at me.

“I know. But I have to, Denver. I have to let it go.”

He nods, taking the painting from me. Neither one of us says another word as he walks out the door.

Chapter Twenty-seven

The flight attendant comes over the speaker, asking us to stow our belongings for landing.

I put away the small puzzle we were working on. Well,Iwas working on. Oliver pretended to do it with me, but he let me fit all the pieces. In the past week, he’s been doing more and more of my therapy exercises with me. He even learned how to play Tetris despite the fact that he loathes video games.

Oliver has become more involved in every aspect of my life since I agreed to come to London. Maybe he felt because I was doing this for him, he was going to do something for me. He’s become the perfect fiancé.

It’s for the best. Especially given that Denver has been too busy to visit me ever since the day I told him I was going to London. I saw him briefly on the way to the airport this morning when we dropped off Kokomo at his place. Oliver waited in the cab, so Denver could have easily talked to me on the stoop of the townhouse. I wanted him to talk to me. About what, I wasn’t sure. Maybe in the back of my mind, I wanted him to give me a reason not to go to London. But he didn’t. He didn’t talk about anything other than Kokomo. But he did stare at me. And I stared at him. And it made me wonder what he did with the painting I gave him. Is it hanging on the wall of his bedroom where he can look at it and remember what he dreams about? Or did it end up in the back of a closet so he can try to forget? Forget the hundreds of hours he spent sitting by my side. Forget the countless conversations we had and the endless card games we’d play. Forget the forbidden kisses we shared.

“Are you ready?” Oliver asks, taking my hand in his as we exit the plane.

“I’m nervous,” I say. “This is the first time I’ve been to another country.”

“Your passport tells a different story, hun.”

“I know.”But I can’t remember, I want to say but don’t. I know everyone is tired of me saying that.

When we get through customs, an older couple approaches us. The woman pulls Oliver into her arms.

“My boy!” she exclaims while holding him tight.

“Hi, Mum,” he says. He shakes his father’s hand as he embraces his mother. “Dad.”

He finally extracts himself from his mother and introduces us. “Mum, Dad, this is my fiancée, Sara Francis.”

I draw my brows at him. “You make it sound like we never met. Is that for my benefit?”

His mother wraps her arms around me. “We haven’t met, luv. You and Ollie were always on the go, popping into town for just a day here and there on your way to some exotic location. We were never able to make it happen,” she says, flashing Ollie an accusing stare.

I look at Ollie, confused. “But you said I love it here. You said we come a lot.”