Chapter Eleven

When I awake the next morning, I automatically stretch my hand toward Olivia's side of the bed, only to find that I'm touching a cold, hard mattress.

Trying to ignore the anxious feeling in the pit of my stomach, I glance at the alarm clock on Olivia's nightstand and am surprised to see that it's already seven thirty. I'm usually awake at dawn, but the exhaustion from everything that happened yesterday must have caught up to me.

I get out of bed and head downstairs, listening for any sign that Olivia is still in the house. I hear nothing. Reaching the kitchen, I see a note on the table written in Olivia's sloping style:

N,

Had to head to work early today, but didn't want to wake you. The coffee's brewed. See you at the office.

O.

PS. Could you drop off Emma at school on your way to work? I don't like the idea of her taking the bus until we know what's happening with A&P. Thanks.

There is nothing overly worrying about Olivia's note, but there is nothing particularly heart-warming about it, either. It seems hasty to me, which is odd given our conversation – and everything else that happened between us – last night.

I give my head a rough shake to force myself to stop over-analysing the note and focus on the tasks for this morning. Everything else can wait until I see Olivia at work.

Almost as soon as I start getting Emma's breakfast ready, I hear her thundering down the stairs, and I smile to myself. It never fails to amaze me how much noise such a little person can make. The house always echoes with her sounds: stomping around upstairs as she plays with her toys, laughing as she watches a movie, and chattering to Olivia and me in her happy, excited way. Together she and Olivia have filled the house with their presence, to the point where I can no longer imagine the place without them in it.

"Morning, munchkin," I greet Emma as she appears in the kitchen, still rubbing her eyes sleepily. "Feel like Cheerios today?"

"Yes, please."

She clambers onto a chair where I've set a bowl and a glass of orange juice out for her. While I pour her some cereal, she looks up at me curiously.

"Natalia, can I ask you something?"

"Of course," I say, reaching for some milk.

"Did you and Mommy have a sleepover last night?"

"What?" My hand jerks in surprise, and milk splashes onto the floor.

"Did you have a sleepover?" Emma repeats innocently, watching me as I turn to grab some nearby paper towels.

"Uh…"

I put off answering her while I mop up the mess on the floor. My heart is pounding quickly and I know my face is red with embarrassment. Emma's question is the last thing I expected to be dealing with this early in the morning. Olivia and I haven't had a chance to discuss how or when we're going to tell Emma about us, but apparently she's already begun to put two and two together.

Eventually I force myself to meet the little girl's questioning gaze.

"What makes you ask that, Em?" My voice sounds way too loud and chipper.

"Well, when I got up to use the bathroom last night, your bedroom door was open and I saw you weren't in your room. So, I thought you must have been in Mommy's room, having a sleepover. Is that where you were?"

I look down and wipe the already-clean floor again as I try to decide how to answer her question. I don't want to lie to her, but I also don't think it's a good idea to explain everything without Olivia here as well. This is something that the three of us are going to have to sit down and talk about together. Finally, I decide to be as honest as possible, without revealing too much.

"Um, yeah, I was in your mommy's room last night, Em," I explain. "We were having a sleepover." The answer seems to satisfy her because she nods and starts eating her cereal. I swallow heavily and continue. "In fact, we might be having more sleepovers from now on. Is that okay?"

"Yeah," she answers happily. "Sleepovers are fun. Jodie and I like to tell ghost stories to each other before we go to sleep. Do you and Mommy do that?"

"Uh, not so much," I reply vaguely before leaping onto the opportunity to change the subject. "What kind of ghost stories do you and Jodie tell?"

Much to my relief, my question launches Emma into a litany of her favourite ghost stories, and soon our conversation has shifted far away from the topic of sleepovers.

An hour later, I arrive at the Beacon after dropping Emma off at school. I head directly toward Olivia's office, but before I make it more than a few steps through the lobby, I feel a hand grabbing my elbow and I turn to see Frank standing behind me.

"Frank, hi," I say, unable to hide my surprise. "What are you doing here?"

He's looking at me with a hopeful, earnest expression. "I was just driving by the Beacon, and I thought I should drop in to tell you that Coop's funeral is happening tomorrow."

"Oh, okay. Well… thanks for letting me know."

I gently remove my arm from his grasp. Ignoring my uneasiness, he takes a step closer and smiles down at me.

"I really appreciated you coming by the hospital last night," he says softly. "It meant a lot to know that you care."

Uh oh.

Already I can tell that my visit to the hospital has had one unintentional effect: it seems to have encouraged Frank's hopes about us. I know I'm walking a fine line with him: with everything that's happened to his family in recent days, I want to be supportive, but I also don't want to give him the wrong impression about us.

"I was glad to be able to help," I reply carefully. "For Buzz, and you, and all the Coopers. You're my friends."

"Well, we all appreciated it." He reaches for my hand. "You're too good to us, Natalia."

I smile tightly and slowly disentangle my hand from his. "I'm just sorry you're all going through this right now. It's not fair."

"Yeah," he nods sadly. We stand in uncomfortable silence until he finally glances at his watch. "Look, I should get going. I've got to take care of the arrangements for tomorrow."

Before he turns to leave, he bends down to wrap me in a tight hug. I return it awkwardly, and when he pulls away he plants a fleeting kiss on my cheek. I'm too surprised by the gesture to say anything.

"I'll see you tomorrow," he smiles gratefully.

As soon as he moves out of my eye line, I see a quick flash of a woman in a dark suit striding down the hall toward the offices: Olivia. I groan inwardly as I watch her walk away from me. Even though I can't see her face, I can tell that she's angry. Her shoulders are tensed and the sharp clacking of her heels striking the floor carries all the way across the lobby.

Taking a deep breath, I follow her into her office. By the time I reach her door, she's already sitting behind her desk. Her face is flushed, but I think she's trying to mask the worst of her anger from me. I shut the door and stand before her desk.

"Hi, Oliv—."

"How's Frank?" she cuts me off, her voice sounding edgy.

"Uh, he seems okay. He just came by to tell me that Coop's funeral is tomorrow."

"Well, that was good of him," Olivia says, her tone dripping with sarcasm. "He's a good man, you know."

"Olivia…"

"What?" she challenges, arching an eyebrow.

I sigh heavily. "You saw Frank and me in the lobby, didn't you?"

She doesn't answer right away, and I watch as all kinds of emotions struggle for control on her expressive face. Finally, she bites her lip and nods quickly.

"Nothing was going on," I explain. "You must know that, right? He was just here to tell me about the funeral."

She laughs harshly. "Oh, I think he was here for more than that."

"What?"

"Come on, Natalia," Olivia chides. "Are you really going to pretend that you don't see what's happening? Frank still has feelings for you, and you're still leading him on."

"Leading him on?" I repeat incredulously. Even though she's just giving voice to my own concerns about Frank's feelings, I'm hurt by her suggestion that I'm at fault. "I broke up with him the other night, and—"

"Yeah, well, Frank is persistent," Olivia interrupts. "I saw the way he was looking at you. I don't think he really gets it – and I can't really blame him, since you're always more than happy for him to lean on you whenever he wants."

Her face instantly reddens, and I can see that she regrets the words as soon as they come out of her mouth. But instead of apologising, she straightens her back and gives me a defiant look. I lean forward against her desk, meeting her accusatory gaze head on.

"And, what? You think I want to start dating Frank again? With everything that's happened between you and me over the last couple of days, why would that thought even come into your head?"

My words seem to deflate some of her anger, and she sinks back into her chair a little bit.

"I don't think you want to be with Frank," she says quietly, shaking her head. "But I do think that the more time you spend coddling him, the more he's going to wonder whether you want to start things up again."

"What would you have me do, Olivia?" I ask. "Ignore the fact that he just lost his brother? That his whole family is suffering through a horrible tragedy?"

"No, of course not," she mutters. "But I don't understand why you have to be the one he always turns to. Frank does have other friends, you know."

"I know that, but…" I trail off and take a deep breath. "Look, when Nicky died, the Coopers were there for me. I don't know what I would have done without them. And now they need someone, and I can't just ignore that. I have to help."

Olivia stares at me for a long moment before slumping in defeat.

"Alright," she says wearily. "Let's just drop it, okay? Besides, we have other things to worry about right now."

She reaches for something on her desk and hands me a piece of paper.

"What's this?"

"I found it on my desk when I arrived this morning. It's from Alan."

"From Alan?" I echo as I unfold the paper and begin reading.

Olivia,

Unfortunately, Coop's untimely demise meant that we didn't have a chance to complete our conversation last evening. However, I want to assure you that we will finish it soon – all of it. We have a great deal to talk about with regard to my granddaughter.

I'll be in touch.

Alan

"What the hell?" I sputter once I've finished the letter.

"Oh, you know Alan," Olivia sighs. "Subtlety is not his strong suit. That's just a warning shot before he really comes for Emma."

I crush the letter in my hands and toss it onto the desk.

"He's an asshole," I announce furiously.

Surprise at my unexpected curse flashes briefly across Olivia's face, but it draws a faint smile from her, which I'm grateful to see.

"I can't argue with that," she smirks.

"What are you going to do?"

"What can I do?" She pounds her fist helplessly onto her desk. "Short of murdering Alan – which I haven't completely ruled out yet – all I can do is wait until he makes a move. But in the meantime, I'm going to do everything humanly possible to make sure that Phillip stays in jail. I can handle Alan alone, but if the two of them team up…" She shakes her head ominously.

"Look, I know how you feel about this, but maybe we should talk to Frank."

"Frank?" she says angrily. "How's he going to help?"

"Maybe he could get the police to keep an eye out for Emma," I explain, hoping that Olivia's sense of reason will outweigh her jealousy. "You know, he could make sure Alan doesn't get anywhere near her."

Her face darkens and she gives me a reproachful glare. "What, you think I'm not capable of protecting my own daughter?"

I throw my hands up in exasperation. "That's not what I'm saying! It's just that it wouldn't hurt to have a little help, and I'm sure Frank would be willing to lend a hand."

Olivia laughs harshly. "Oh, I'm sure that's true."

I feel stung by her insinuation. "What's that supposed to mean?"

She closes her eyes and rubs the bridge of her nose. "Nothing, it's just… nothing."

But I'm not about to let her off the hook that easily. "Olivia, what's going on with you?" I press. "Last night you said you wanted me with you. You said that you needed me."

"I do need you," she says, her face pained.

"Then why are you being like this?" I ask, my voice softening slightly. "Why are you trying to push me away?"

"I don't know," she admits. She leans back and rakes a hand through her hair. "I'm sorry, Natalia. I don't know what's wrong with me. It's just that you spent all that time at the hospital last night, and then when I saw you hugging Frank it made me think…" she trails off, unable to finish her thought. "I just have a hard time trusting anyone, you know? It always seems to get me into trouble."

"I know," I reply, moving around her desk to stand beside her chair. I slide my hand around her shoulders, and I'm relieved when she rests her head against my stomach.

"You have nothing to worry about," I continue softly. "I'm yours, Olivia."

"Mine?" she asks, turning her face toward my stomach. I feel a flutter tumble through my abdomen as she presses a light kiss against me.

"Yours," I confirm.

With two fingers, I tip her chin up and brush my lips softly against hers. When I pull away, she looks up at me with a completely unguarded expression, and in that moment I see clearly all the wounds and insecurities that she tries so hard to hide from the world.

I don't know all the details about Olivia's past, but I do know she's been hurt countless times before – and the look on her face reveals the emotional scars of every betrayal she's ever suffered. Even though I can't take away every single one of those bad memories for her, I'm suddenly filled with a determination to give her all the things she deserves.

"You can trust me, Olivia," I murmur, looking at her intently. "I would never do anything to hurt you."

My heart breaks a little when I see her eyes brighten with tears. For all her bluster, I know that Olivia is a deeply fragile woman who doesn't give her heart away easily. But at this moment I feel certain that she's finally starting to give it to me.

Embarrassed by her naked display of emotion, Olivia looks away and wipes her face quickly.

"Sorry," she laughs softly. "I'm such a sap."

"Don't apologise."

I cup her face with my hands and wipe away her lingering tears with my thumbs, just like she did for me last night. Then, I bend closer and kiss her gently. I smile when I hear her sigh of approval.

"Hey," I say lightly. "Emma asked me an interesting question at breakfast this morning. She wanted to know if you and I had a sleepover last night in your room."

"Oh my god," Olivia half-groans, half-laughs. "What did you say?"

"Well, I couldn't think of another reason for me to be in your bedroom all night, so I said yes. I hope that's okay."

"Yeah, that should satisfy her curiosity. For a little while at least." Her laughter fades quickly as a new thought occurs to her. "We're going to need to tell her about us soon, though. I don't think the 'sleepover' excuse is going to hold water forever."

"When do you want to talk to her?"

"Not until we figure out what Alan has up his sleeve," she says. "I don't want to give him more ammunition to use against us until I know what he's planning. If we told Emma about us now we'd have to ask her to keep it a secret, and I don't think that's a good idea. The last thing I want is for her to think this is something to be ashamed of."

I nod my agreement. "Okay, so until we know what's happening with Alan and Phillip, we'll keep this between us."

"I think that's for the best… for now, at least."

"Well, in that case, there's something else I should tell you," I say, clearing my throat nervously.

"What is it?"

"Um, I kind of told Emma that you and I will be having a lot more sleepovers from now on."

She tilts her head at me. "We will?"

"Yeah," I reply. "At least, I hope so." I run my hand through her hair and she pulls me closer. "I don't want to spend another night without you beside me, Olivia. I want you with me, in my bed, every night and every morning." I smile shyly. "Is that okay?"

For just an instant, I see a look of pure, unmixed happiness steal across Olivia's face. Then, she reaches up to slide her hand to the back of my neck and pull me down to her again.

Before our lips meet, she whispers, "that is definitely okay."

tbc