Chapter Thirteen

Olivia woke to the smell of coffee wafting in from her kitchen, and she knew Elliot had never left. Weak sunlight filtered in and sprayed her face, and she moaned when she moved and discovered that the pain had not left with the darkness. But she forced herself out of bed anyway, slowly shuffling into the kitchen to find Elliot pouring a glass of orange juice.

"Hey," he said when he saw her, and then he rushed to her side to guide her to the table by her elbow. "I thought I heard you get up. Here's some juice."

She sat in a kitchen chair, and he helped ease her down, sitting in the chair next to her with coffee steaming from a cup. "Thanks, El," she said, taking a sip from her juice. "And thanks for staying—you didn't have to do that."

"Nah, it's fine," he said, dismissing her concerns with the wave of his hand. "I just thought you might want someone here your first night home. You doing okay?"

His eyes tenderly looked her over, and she appreciated his care. "Yeah, although I could use a pain pill," she said, yawning. He got up to get her one, and when he returned he set it in her open palm. Her fingers closed around his for a second, and while she had his attention, she said, "By the way, I just want to apologize for what happened last night—I mean, this morning, when we got home . . ."

"In the elevator?"

"Yeah." He looked like he was trying to hold back a smile, and she said, "I just—I don't want to interfere with you and Kathy, or—"

"Hey, it's okay. Me and Kathy, we . . . we're divorced."

She tried to give him her most sympathetic look and said, "I'm so sorry, El."

"Don't be." She couldn't detect a hint of sadness in his voice. "It happened a long time ago, and we're both fine with it now. Turns out we're better parents apart than we are together. And last night—that was . . . really nice."

She smiled, looking down at her hands bashfully. "Yeah, I thought so too."

He must have taken their awkward silence as a sign that he could change the subject, because he said, "I wanted to talk to you about the other thing that happened last night." Sitting down now, he reached across the table and scooped up her hand. "Are you sure what you thought happened didn't really happen? There was no man, no assault?"

She shook her head vigorously. "It was weird, El. Foggy, like a dream but not. I was pretty out of it. But there was definitely no man in my room."

He hesitated before speaking again, but gave her hand a squeeze and then said, "You know me—I'm no fan of psychology, but maybe you ought to see someone about that."

She bit her bottom lip, staring at their hands intertwined. "Maybe so. I have someone already. I have so many other things to take care of, though—"

As if on cue, her phone sounded from the charger where Elliot had plugged it in for her last night. He got up and retrieved it for her, handing it to her. A female voice came to her after she answered, saying, "Olivia? It's Lucy."

"Hi, I'm glad you called."

Lucy had called the hospital and learned that Olivia came home, and wanted to know what to do about Noah. After discussing Liv's condition, Lucy offered to keep Noah at night and bring him to Liv's home during the day so she could spend time with him without overextending Liv. When she was feeling up to it, hopefully within the next week, Liv would keep Noah full-time. She was so glad to have a wonderful baby-sitter, willing to go above and beyond. She planned to reward Lucy appropriately.

While she was talking to Lucy, Elliot's phone rang as well, and he went into the other room to talk. Olivia didn't think anything of it, figuring he just didn't want to talk over her. When she got off the phone, she sat silently in her chair, her head still weary and clouded. The silence rang in her ears, punctuated only by muffled sounds of Elliot's voice from her bedroom.

She decided to follow him, not just to let him know she was off the phone, but also to lie down on the bed, this small amount of activity already exhausting her. His voice grew louder as she approached her bedroom, until she could hear what he was saying. She stopped just outside the door after she heard him say, "Yeah, I miss you too baby. Yeah, I can't wait."

Her mouth fell open, and she didn't want to spy, but she couldn't seem to un-plant her feet from the spot. He continued his side of the conversation, his voice growing more seductive. "Yeah, that sounds sexy. What are you wearing?"

Now her lips clenched shut, and her hands balled into fists. He didn't say much after that, just "Mmmm," and "Uh-huh, sure." And then he laughed and hung up.

Olivia wanted to dismiss what he had said, to find a way to let it go. But she couldn't think of another meaning for the words he had uttered, and when she tried to find an excuse for him, her head spun and she had to clasp a hand to her forehead. Dizziness threatened to overtake her, and she turned to go sit down, unable to make sense of the last few minutes. Apparently, men could never be trusted, period. Was there one good man in the entire world? She was beginning to doubt it.

Elliot's footsteps sounded behind her, and he touched her shoulder, saying, "Oh, I didn't know you were out here. You okay?" She didn't look at him, but she could imagine the feigned concern on his face. "Do you need to lie down?"

He tried to guide her, to turn her around and steer her toward her bedroom, but she shoved his hand away with the wave of her arm, saying, "Don't touch me, Elliot."

She shuffled toward the kitchen, and she heard silence as his feet stopped, and then he caught up to her. "What's wrong, Liv?"

She didn't know what to say to him, so she said nothing, at first. And then she found her voice, spinning around to face him. "You son of a bitch. You lied to me." His jaw fell open, but that didn't stop her. "You either aren't done with Kathy, or you have someone else, and you didn't tell me. Either way, I'm done with you."

"Liv, I don't—"

"I don't want to hear it, El," she shouted. "I heard you on the phone just now."

"But I didn't say anyth—"

"Get out! I'm not listening to any more lies."

His eyebrows came together in points, his mouth open wide, and he tried one last time. "Liv, I don't know what you think you heard, but—"

The volume of her voice surprised even her, and she thought the neighbors might call the police when she yelled, "I said get out!"

Pointing at the door, her chest heaving, she watched Elliot's face fall. Then he fell silent and turned to the door, pausing one last time with his hand on the doorknob before he opened it and left her sight.