Sweet Home Page 71

Silence joined us at the table. I could feel his stare as I fixed my eyes on my cup. It was time for an apology.

“Oliver?”

Oliver clasped his hands on the table edge, a slight shake to his fingers. “Yes.”

I reached forward and laid a hand on top of his. “I owe you a long-overdue apology.”

He turned his head to gaze out the window. “Why did you leave me like that? Was I that bad of a boyfriend to you… and after… what happened between us? What did I do so wrong?”

A lump formed in my throat. “Nothing. You weren’t a bad boyfriend; you were lovely to me. I’m in the wrong here, Olly.”

Facing me once again, he said, “You broke my heart when you left. I heard from a few of your classmates that you’d joined Professor Ross in Alabama and couldn’t believe my ears. You’d had it planned for months and never said you were moving abroad for your master’s. You just up and leave after being intimate with me—no reason or explanation? I thought it was very cruel.”

“I was very cruel. And completely selfish. And you deserved so much more. I’m truly sorry for what I did to you, Olly.”

Oliver’s lips parted as he inhaled. “Molly…”

I held up my hand to stop him. “If you have the time now, I’d really like it if you could let me explain a bit about me, about my past. Maybe help you understand why I am how I am. I feel it’s about due.”

Breathing a sigh of relief, he smiled. “Nothing would give me greater pleasure.”

Over the next two hours, I finally shared my past, all of it, right up until my sudden departure after we’d made love.

When I was done, Olly sat back, eyes wide, releasing a pent-up breath slowly through his lips. “Wow, Molly. I had no idea.”

I gave him a tight smile, feeling better, lighter. Finally sharing something about myself had actually been therapeutic. “You deserved to know. I’m only sorry it’s taken me so long. It could have saved us a lot of sorrow.”

Oliver placed his elbow on the table, letting his head rest in his upturned hand, just staring at me, reading something within my expression. “Who is he?”

“Who is who?”

“The guy you’re in love with.”

“I don—”

He reached out and gently took my hand. “Do you know how much I wished you would think of me and look like that? Need me that desperately?”

“What?”

He dropped his gaze. “I loved you, Molly Shakespeare, but you never loved me back. I tried to break into your heart, but I failed. I wanted you to share your problems, your past, but you wouldn’t let me in. You didn’t love me enough and well, that was okay. I wasn’t the man for you. I get that now.” He glanced up with compassion in his blue eyes. “Whoever he is, he must be special. It’s like you’re a whole different person, not the shy, introverted girl I once knew. You’re stronger… changed.”

My head dropped to my hands and I began to cry. I heard Oliver move from his chair and sit beside me, wrapping me in his arms. It felt good to be held again, but I missed Romeo and his arms were bigger, more protective. Romeo’s chest was broader and although Oliver smelled nice, of some expensive aftershave, it wasn’t soap or mint.

Oliver wasn’t my Romeo.

“Shh, Molly. Don’t cry. Nothing’s so bad that it can’t be fixed.”

I lifted my head. “It just went so wrong. We were put through too much and… and… I ran… again, just like I ran from you. I hate myself for leaving, but I just couldn’t stay.”

“Shh… calm, Molly.”

But I couldn’t calm down. I’d finally let myself feel and regret was flowing out of me with the strength of a geyser. “Something we both loved dearly was taken away, stolen, and I just left him to deal with it on his own. He has the most important game of his life coming up and all I do is miss him, think of him, but I’ve majorly messed up. I left him when he needed me most. How can I go back after doing that?”

Oliver shuffled back in his seat, his lips pursed in confusion. “What game?”

“He plays American football.”

“Oh, right. Is he any good?”

I couldn’t help it, but I laughed. “Yeah, he’s pretty amazing.”

Oliver shook his head in astonishment. “Molly Shakespeare with an American football player? Well, I never saw that coming. It’s not polo or cricket, but I’m a big believer that all sportsmen are good men. Your man most probably is too.”

I play-punched his slim arm. “He’s not just a football player. He’s the bravest, most caring person I’ve ever met. He understands me like no one before. He’s my soul mate—he’s my everything.”

“Molly, a footballer’s girlfriend.” Oliver shook his head, smiling in disbelief.

“It’s like nothing you’ve ever seen, Olly. The entire state worships the team, worships him. The stadium alone holds over a hundred thousand people. It’s crazy. Games are televised. They’re sponsored by international brands, and I ended up falling in love with the most revered player in the entire country.”

Oliver took my hand gently and looked straight into my eyes. “Well, the question is, Molly, why the hell are you sitting in this bloody coffee shop with me instead of with your soul mate superstar in Alabama?”

I stared back at him as his words rattled in my brain.

Why the hell was I here?

I jumped from the chair. “Olly…”

“Go, Molly. I understand.” He stood, like a true English gent, and kissed both my cheeks. “You left me a hollow man when you left last year without a word, but I realise now that you were never mine to keep. Your new chap is lucky to have you.”

“No, I’m the one who’s lucky to have Romeo.”

“Romeo?”

“Yeah, his name’s Romeo Prince.”

Oliver rubbed his forehead and chuckled. “Well, Miss Molly Juliet Shakespeare—how very fateful. But you’d better get to your Romeo as soon as possible. If I remember rightly, he has a nasty habit of getting himself into lots of bother in your absence.”

I smiled at his teasing, pressing a thankful kiss to his smooth cheek. “Good-bye, Oliver. Thank you for… everything.”

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