Page 33 of Ms. Lead

OLIVER

LIKE A DRUG

Today has been a rollercoaster. From being around exuberant children all day, and seeing Bianca holding Grace, which pulled on my heart so hard I almost lost it, to talking with Normandy and Brandon each about their experience with the Calnetta crime family and Normandy’s kidnapping and shooting. It’s left me wrung out like a used dishrag. And then there’s been the stolen moments with Bianca, driving me absolutely bonkers with desire for her. I’m having difficulty staying polite as we enter my hotel room.

I know what’s coming. At least, I hope I do. We’ve been building up all week to this, and our actions today at the barbeque made it even more apparent that we need to have each other once and for all.

However, there is something that’s been stuck in the back of my mind all day since interviewing Brandon. There was about an hour during the kidnapping ordeal when he was all the way across the country in New York that he thought Normandy was dead. He had witnessed her being shot on a video call and assumed the worst. He blamed himself and was inconsolable until he was told she was only wounded and still alive.

The nightmares still haunt him to this day, even though they’ve not only gotten through it but married and have beautiful Ava together. He remarked that he doesn’t take a single day for granted. Even with all his wealth, he couldn’t buy her freedom or save her life when he needed to. Every day he gets with her is a gift he doesn’t feel worthy of and appreciates with all of his being.

I could see it, too, in how they were with each other. I don’t know how else to describe it, but they were careful with each other. I’ve never seen anything like it, and it makes me yearn deep down for something similar. Even though I know it’s stupid to wish for things I can’t have, I can’t help myself.

You can’t be around that type of relationship and not come away affected by it somehow. It’s impossible. I need to remind myself that love like that isn’t going to happen for me. Not in this lifetime. That’s been stolen from me.

“What are you thinking about?” Bianca asks, pulling me out of my internal thoughts. She kicks off her sandals and pads over to me by the window, looking over the bright lights of the Vegas Strip. It’s a Saturday night, so the heavy traffic adds to the cacophony of colors to take in.

As she wraps her arms around my waist, I debate what to tell her. Do I share Brandon’s admissions? Do I even put that part in my book? I don’t think so. That was a man-to-man discussion, off the record. I wouldn’t ever divulge a confidence given to me.

“I’m just coming down from all the excitement of the day. It was non-stop since we got to the Carmichael’s this morning, don’t you agree?” I pull her arms tighter around me, enjoying the warmth of her body against my back. I could so easily get used to this with her. I feel like I already have.

It’s a dangerous feeling.

“It was. The kids sure got a kick out of the newcomer to the fold.”

“Grace? Well, that’s to be expected with a new sibling in the mix. I think Ava will be happy to keep her under her wing. Although, Jett didn’t seem too keen at the loss of attention.”

We start to sway a little, our bodies in tune with each other.

“I meant you, silly,” she laughs, giving me a slight squeeze. “You fit right in. Especially with the kids.”

My body tenses and I stop swaying. I can feel my fight or flight response kicking in, and I try my best to push it down, but Bianca feels it. Of course, she does.

She unwraps her arms from my waist and pulls me to turn and look at her.

“What’s wrong? Did I say something?” Confusion clouds her face as she backtracks her words.

“No. No. It’s nothing.” I wave a dismissive hand, wanting to move on from this. Any more talk of children is going to push me over the edge. I’m fatigued from being on the go all day and feel a little out of it.

“I didn’t mean anything by it. You’re just so good with them. Ava especially adores—”

“Stop it, Bianca.”

Her eyes snap to mine at the cold tone in my voice. Her confusion now mixes with hurt, and I hate this so much. I fucking hate this. I know in my gut where this is going, but I can’t stop it.

For the life of me, I can’t stop it.

“I don’t understand.” She shakes her head, dark eyes now brimming with unshed tears. “I was just trying to say that the kids—"

My hands fly to my ears, trying to shield them from hearing more about how much the children love me, how much fun we had, and how great I am with them.

Blah. Blah. Blah.

A headrush hits me at full force, and I feel like I’m going to be sick.

“Please. Just. Stop.” I turn away from her, not wanting to see her pain or show her mine. I don’t want to hurt her like this.

It’s too much. This is all too much.

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