Page 7 of Chasing Olivia (Trace + Olivia 2)

“First, I think it’s necessary for me to say that I am so extremely happy for the both of you. Mom, you deserve to love and be loved, and I’m glad you’ve found someone that loves you completely. Nick,” I said his name shakily, and his eyes met mine, “I truly mean it, when I say, there’s no one else I’d rather have seen my mom marry. The love you feel for her is palpable. I’m honored to have you become a part of our family and I’m excited…” I paused, “to see you create your own family together.” I smiled significantly at my mother’s small bulge. Nick laid his hand protectively over her stomach.

I did a small curtsy and took my seat.

Wait…I curtsied?!

Trace snick

ered beside me.

Oh, God.

Before I could dwell on my embarrassing curtsy, Nick reached for my hand. “Our family.”

“Huh?” I looked at him questioningly.

“You said, and I quote, ‘create your own family together,’ but you’re a part of this family, Olivia. Don’t ever think you’re not,” he eyed me.

I smiled at him and my mom. “My bad, our family,” I enunciated the word.

“That’s better,” Nick grinned, his dimple popping out on his cheek. “Now that that’s cleared up,” he turned to my mom, “let’s dance the night away.”

“Ugh, my feet are killing me,” I groaned, kicking off my heels, and reaching for the zipper on my bride’s maid dress. It pooled on the floor beside the door and I breathed a sigh of relief to finally be out of that dress.

The apartment was dark and our black lab, Ace, scurried forward. His nails clacked against the floors.

“Hey buddy,” I petted his head as I passed by him on the way to the bedroom.

Trace came into the bedroom behind me carrying the fluffy lavender dress. “I didn’t want Ace to mess it up,” he explained.

I looked over at Ace, who’d jumped up on the bed, and then back at Trace. “You know Ace would never do that. He’s a good boy.”

Trace chuckled, hanging the dress over the top of the open closet door. “You never know.”

I removed my bra and pulled on a sleep shirt and sleep shorts. I was so exhausted that I was sure I’d be asleep the second my head hit the pillow.

I pulled the covers back and climbed into bed. Ace lay down beside me with his head on my stomach. I loved that dog so much.

Trace stripped down to his boxers and got in bed. We were quiet, listening to the symphony of our breaths.

I rolled to my side, towards him, and he put his arm around me, pulling me close. My ear rested over his heart and the beat calmed me. I felt his lips press tenderly against the back of my head, right over the scar that my hair kept hidden.

My eyes shut.

Even two years later, the memories of that day still haunted me. Sometimes, I closed my eyes and it was like Aaron was hovering over me once more with his fist raised. On those nights, Trace comforted me, sometimes staying up until the wee hours of the morning. I don’t know how he didn’t get tired of it…I think, maybe because of what he went through with his dad, that he understood it was going to take me a long time to get over it. It was easy for others who’d never been through something traumatic to judge me. They thought I should magically be over what happened. But that’s not how it works. Healing takes time…a long time. It takes patience. It takes love. Thankfully, Trace had all the love and patience anyone could ever need.

“I love you,” he whispered, believing I was asleep.

I smiled. I knew he did. He didn’t have to tell me, but it was nice to hear.

Knock.

Knock.

Knock.

Bang.

Knock.

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