Cast Not Love Away

By Felicia Ferguson

Author's Note: All details and disclaimers in chapter one. Not going to sugar coat it, this one is going to be rough. But remember, I fiercely love and utterly adore Shane and Oliver as a couple. And I always keep couples I 'ship together.

Chapter Four

Wednesday

The next morning, Shane lay as still as possible on her side facing the wall, trying to keep her breathing steady and even. Oliver was awake. Her heart clenched. She should turn over. But the mystifying changes to their love life, his flirtatious interactions with Samantha and distant silences with her all swirled together into a worrisome whirl.

She felt him shift behind her. She wouldn't pressure him, wouldn't guilt him into choosing her over work. But maybe he'd changed his mind about the morning schedule, and he would reach for her?

A moment later, though, his side of the bed was empty and the light in the bathroom clicked on.

Almost an hour passed before the mattress bent under his weight. Would he reach for her now? Ask what was going on? She almost rolled over, but then she felt his lips brush her bare shoulder and heard his whispered, "Goodbye, love." In a heartbeat, the bedroom door opened and closed. Then the Jag rumbled to life. And he was gone.

Shane stared at the closed door as shame stole through her. She should have gotten up with him. Should have sat with him as he got ready. Should have told him good morning … goodbye … I love you … But no, she'd taken the coward's out and played possum. Tears dripped down her cheeks dampening the cotton pillow case as the niggling fear from last night wormed its way deeper in her heart.

What was wrong with her? Why couldn't she ask him what was going on? Why didn't he ask her? They had gotten so much better about talking out things after their marriage rehearsal. Why had they suddenly seemed to lose that skill?

Sunlight streamed around the curtains, basking her illuminated Bible in morning light. "God, what is happening?" A soft tug in her heart had her pulling her Bible off the nightstand and turning on her lamp.

She blinked a couple of times as her eyes adjusted to the full light then she turned to the book of John. But instead of going on to chapter fifteen which they should have read yesterday, she skimmed back over the last half of fourteen. Jesus had been telling the disciples about sending them a helper. That helper, Oliver had said was someone who would teach, guide, and comfort them.

"That would be nice to have right about now, God." She closed her eyes and waited for the calming love that always came during her talks with the Almighty. But just the like rest of her morning, it had changed. There was no calm. There was only that same unexplainable emotional whirl, and Samantha seemed to be the center of it.

It wasn't jealousy. Not really. Shane knew that feeling intimately after being introduced to Dale and learning of her close friendship with Oliver. Whatever was happening with Samantha was nothing like that. So what was it?

Shane read through the rest of the chapter seeking solace, something firm to hold onto into the storm. Her eyes caught on verse twenty-seven. Peace I leave with you, My peace I give to you; not as the world gives do I give to you. Let not your heart be troubled, neither let it be afraid.

Oliver had said divine peace was a peace that passed understanding, one that you couldn't explain, it was just there, like a bubble surrounding you even in the midst of the biggest turmoil. "Something is going on, but I have no clue what. Can I have that peace, God, in the middle of all this? Please?"

But again, only the swirl remained. She closed the Bible and laid it back on the nightstand, wishing Oliver was there to help her understand, not only the scripture but what was going on with them. She glanced at the wall clock. It was only six-thirty, but there was no sleeping in at this point. She threw off the quilt and sat up. "Might as well face the day."

##

Shane stood behind her desk scrolling through a database searching for a match to the antique coin. Rita and Charley kept a rolling discussion of baby Elenore's tummy time antics while Norman was back in his lab, the odd boom popping the air followed by promises everything was fine.

Despite the normality and the reassurance, Shane knew nothing was normal or reassuring. But she still had no idea why. She glanced over at Oliver's desk. His empty chair was pushed in. Memos were stacked neatly to the side of his rubber stamp collection. His wool coat hung on the coat hanger next to her own.

Her stomach rumbled, reminding her all she'd put in it that morning was a skinny vanilla latte from the Denver Bean kiosk. It had been a steamboat, but after passing on dinner too, there was little to no real food in her. Maybe she and Oliver could go to lunch and talk things out. He and Samantha should be back from the first of their Glynnis Rucker meetings soon. Norman, Rita, and Charley could handle entertaining Samantha—she might enjoy a baby story or two. Weren't southern women known for their love of babies?

The idea settled, Shane forced herself to focus on her search until the DLO doors opened and a familiar deep chuckle rumbled from the back of the room. Her cheeks curved as she savored the sound, but fell a moment later when Samantha's lilting laugh joined Oliver's. She glanced up just in time to see Samantha pat Oliver's arm. Oliver stepped back and Samantha's hand fell away, but the action still made Shane wince.

When they reached Norman's desk, Samantha shook her head and grinned. Rita and Charley paused their sorting, joining Shane by her desk. "Y'all should have seen Oliver in the meeting with that Glynnis Rucker. She is quite the spitfire, but he just hosed her down with one sentence."

Samantha's delight beamed from her face, but it was Oliver's pinking cheeks at her praise that sent Shane's heart plummeting to her feet. She marshalled what little courage she could find in the face of Oliver's seeming growing admiration of their new coworker and waning interest in herself.

"Oliver." She flicked a glance between him and Samantha then lowered her voice as Samantha joined Rita and Charley to further gush about Oliver in the meeting. "I was wondering if you'd like to get lunch together …" She flashed a hesitant smile. "Just … us?"

Oliver's eyes darted around the room finally returning to Shane. Real regret and disappointment flickered in his eyes. "I, ah, am sorry, Shane … but Ms. Morris and I have a lunch meeting with the other department heads at the Mailbox Grille in a few minutes." His lips twisted with frustration. "It … ah … was just arranged during the morning meeting."

Shane couldn't fault him for that. Besides this was just more duty before personal, right? At least he'd looked disappointed at the schedule change, so that was something. She licked her lips, then nodded. "Have fun." Trying to find a supportive smile and failing, she turned her attention to Rita. "Rita?"

Rita pushed her glasses back behind her ears and glanced at Charley who smiled and waved them on. "You go. I'm only taking a fifteen-minute break so I can leave early and get Elenore from the sitter. I'm taking her to dinner with my grandparents in Aurora."

Rita beamed then glanced to the lab just as another boom reverberated through the walls. Shaking her head, she placed a comforting hand on Shane's arm. "I'll just go tell Norman and find out if he wants me to bring him back anything."

"Tell him we're going to Bistro Ramon." Shane flinched as she caught Oliver's curious glance. The Mailbox Grille was closer, and she did prefer their food. But there was no way she could bring herself to watch him and Samantha together—even if it was only a business lunch. She busied herself with closing up her latest database search as she waited for Rita to return.

Shane watched Oliver and Samantha out of her peripheral vision as they grabbed their coats and scarves from the coat hanger. Please don't help her with her coat.

The plea might have been silent, but apparently it was loud enough to stay Oliver's assistance. He merely donned his own, watching her with a concerned gaze.

Shane met his eyes for a second, then returned to her scrolling without seeing a single entry. He stepped toward her desk, but Samantha's easy, "Ready?" paused him.

He nodded once. "Of course." He waited a moment more, lips parted on a silent comment, but Shane kept her eyes glued to the monitor. It was petty, childish, and absolutely necessary if she had any hope of getting through the rest of the day without breaking down.

##

Later that evening, Shane sat on the back porch swing, idly swirling a mostly-full glass of cabernet as Ephraim Beale wailed from her playlist about lost love and broken promises. She'd gotten home a few minutes before Oliver and nodded to his offer of leftovers for dinner, managing to push the marinara and clams into her stomach before pouring the wine and heading to the back porch.

The scuff of foot against wood drew her gaze to the door. Oliver stood watching her, dress shirt cuffs rolled up, tie off, top button undone, fatigue bracketing worried eyes. Her gaze drifted down to his hands. He clutched an open bottle of Yoo-Hoo in one and his copy of Paradise Lost in the other.

He was the man she had prayed for, longed for, loved, desperately wanted in her life for the rest of their days. Joy should have filled her heart. But the only thing she felt was a disconcerting mix of sadness and worry.

She flashed him a pained smile and shook her head. She needed time to think, to feel, to really figure out what was going on with her. And she could do none of that with him seated next to her as if nothing was wrong. "Would you mind not sitting with me tonight?"

Oliver's jaw dropped. He took a breath as confusion wrinkled his brow. She'd hurt him. Her heart turned over, and she almost took back the request, almost patted the seat, but he answered, "Ah … of course. I will … read in the living room then." He nodded once, turned, then turned back, the corners of his eyes bunched with concern and worry. "Shane. Is everything all right … with … us?"

Finally, he asked the question. But why didn't that make her feel better? Her lips flattened in a sad smile, and she offered him the only answer she knew was true. "I don't know."

His lips parted. But she shook her head. She couldn't talk it out yet. Not when she still had no idea what was really wrong. "I need time, Oliver." He had answered that request once before, when Alex's text messages sat between them. He would do so again.

He nodded, then stepped back. His whispered, "I'm not letting go … Shane," hung in the air as he returned inside.

Shane nodded then closed her eyes in a long slow blink. But what if he did?

The question froze her heart. The wine glass slipped from her hand, shattering against the porch floor and drenching the wooden slats in cabernet.

What if Oliver did let go?

The nebulous whirl gelled around that single question and solidified into a tangible and heart-rending fear.

What if Oliver found someone else? Someone who was smarter, or prettier, or who better matched his interests. Someone like … someone like … Samantha.

What if on some level he was already interested in her? Maybe that was his real reason for setting up these crazy stupid rules for their behavior at work? Not because of gossip, but because he needed to distance himself from her? Because he'd found someone he liked better than her, and he wasn't certain how to tell her yet?

Yes, he had asked if everything was okay with them, said he wasn't letting go, but what if he was simply feeling his way into a conversation he wasn't sure how to begin? A conversation about wanting to be with another woman?

Shane's heart twisted in her chest. She loved Oliver. Had given him her heart forever. Couldn't imagine her life without him despite their current issues. But if he decided he could live without her, then what? It would be so much worse than a couple of hours of crying in a restaurant bathroom on Valentine's Day.

Shane closed her eyes willing away the excruciating memory. But the questions and fears slipped easily into the invisible lock she had placed on it all those years ago and turned like a key. She took in a long, hitching breath as that now familiar chill clenched her heart.

Valentine's Day at The Wild Oak in Arlington with Daniel Beecher. After meeting on the quad during a study break, they'd dated almost all of their college senior year. Six weeks prior, they'd spent a beautiful weekend away together for New Year's Eve. He had been her first and, she was certain, her last. And they were in love.

When he'd asked her to dinner on the most romantic night of the year and in such an elegant restaurant, her heart had leapt at the possibilities. Would he ask her to marry him? Or at least bring up the subject of life after graduation? She waited and hoped through the appetizer, the salad, and the main course, listening to him talk about his dreams for a career in architecture, all the while picturing herself by his side.

But no, when dessert arrived, he told her the real reason he had invited her there. Not to celebrate their love or talk of their future together. No. It was to tell her he'd met someone else. Had fallen in love with someone else. And couldn't live without … someone else. He gushed about her beauty, her intelligence, how much they had in common. And every word was a knife blow to Shane's heart.

But when he said who that someone else was, she'd nearly broken down right in the middle of the restaurant. Darby Collinsworth. Stunning, petite, incredibly smart, the most popular girl on their college campus, and the bane of Shane's existence.

Not that Daniel knew that. No one did. Because Shane had absorbed every snide remark, every cutting look that Darby threw at her during their classes and instead held tight to knowing she was dating the love of her life and after graduation Darby would be gone.

But then came the final blow. Daniel, the love of her life, was breaking up with her … for Darby. And Shane rushed to the ladies' room, devastated.

Shane tried to smother the memories. The sound of Daniel's words, the scent of the strawberry shortcake, the beauty of the restaurant. And yet, they all sat immoveable. Condemning her. She was not enough. Not smart enough. Not pretty enough. Not … whatever … enough to hold onto the man she loved.

She opened her eyes and took in a deep breath. The lowering sun glinted on her moonstone ring. She was married now to the man she loved more than she'd ever thought of loving Daniel. The man she loved more than life itself.

Daniel's proclamation had shattered her. What would happen if Oliver ever spoke the same words? Ever said he'd found someone else, loved someone else, could only see himself with someone else?

After seeing him with Samantha, hearing her glowing admiration, feeling his growing absence, it seemed entirely possible he one day would.

Her fingers reached for her timepiece pendant. She ran her thumb over the small engraved dial as memories of their conversation in the DLO surrounded her. She was the one who had committed to stay with him forever. But Oliver hadn't reciprocated.

And for a man who understood and loved words, his choice in their vows was revealing. He had promised to stay with her through seasons, locations. But when those seasons were over? When those locations were visited? Was Billy Joel right? Was there no forever, only times of healing and then moving on?

Was it possible that time was coming soon? They had already worked through so much, lived so much life together as she helped him heal from Holly. Did he even need her anymore? Was he healthy enough to make a choice of his own rather than staying with someone who would be a constant reminder of his past hurts? After all, why would he want her when he could choose someone who was bright and vivacious and charming? Someone like Darb—Samantha.

She leaned back against the swing slats and watched the sun disappear below the tree line. God. Help.

Sometime later, Oliver reappeared at the back door, confusion and concern still mingled in his blue eyes, but this time his hands were empty. "I, ah, am retiring for the night. Will you join me?"

Shane shook her head. But she couldn't leave him with another denial. Not when she loved him so deeply. "In a little while."

His nodded then his gaze dropped to the porch floor, and Shane suddenly remembered her wine glass. She opened her mouth to apologize, to explain, but before she could form the words, he disappeared then returned with a towel, dust pan, and brush.

He bent down on one knee in front of her, carefully blotted up the wine then swept up the pieces of broken glass. It clinked together in the pan as his eyes found hers. Love mingled with worry as he searched her face. "Shane, please know I'm here for you … always." His voice was quiet, comforting, concerned.

She cupped his cheek as her heart melted. Tears blurred her vision, but as he stood and walked back inside questions haunted her.

Are you? Or are you like Daniel and only here until someone better comes along?