Chapter 5

Grace

Brad—my stupid ex, that man I'd sworn to never even think about again—is standing across the room from me right now, here in Whispering Pines. And he looks pissed.

He's not the only one.

My fingers twitch with a desire to find a projectile but I hold myself in check, not particularly wishing to get banned from this sweet little cafe for life.

"What is he doing here?" I whisper angrily, distantly aware of Oli turning in his seat to look at the man I've just now decided I hate more than anyone else—even more than Mr. I'm Leaving My Pregnant Fiancé To Start A New Life In Thailand With A Twenty-Year-Old.

Brad powers across the room towards me, walking right past Lucas in the play area without sparing him so much as a glance, his hands fisted tightly at his side. Lucas, for his part, only watches him pass without much expression, before turning back to the toys before him.

"Who the fuck is this?" Brad says as he stops by our table, his voice oddly squeaky in his anger, as he jerks his chin at Oli without turning his eyes away from me.

I press my lips together, clenching my jaw tight to stop myself from shouting at him, trying to gain control of my emotions before responding.

"I presume this string-bean of a male is your ex?" Oli's deep, smooth voice cuts through the noise, and I dart my eyes towards him. He looks relaxed, staring at Brad with one raised brow, his lips curled very slightly as if he's looking at something deeply uninteresting and slightly disgusting.

String-bean? The ridiculous nickname coupled with his blandly affronted expression has the tiniest sliver of humor flare briefly in my chest, strangely settling my borderline violent anger.

"Unfortunately," I manage. When my voice comes out normally and I don't immediately begin murdering Brad, I let myself look back into his gray eyes. "What the hell are you doing here?"

"I came to win back my girl," Brad says with another squeaked pitch to his voice, before clearing his throat. "Imagine my shock when I walk down the street and see her holding hands with—with…" He waves his hand vaguely before Olistaire's face, who huffs and twitches back to avoid the fingers. "Gracie-boo, have you lost your mind? How could you do this to me?"

My mouth falls open, and this time I don't respond because I'm simply at a loss for words. After what he did to me,

multiple times, where does he get off saying something like that?

"I'm trying to make this work," Brad continues, somehow whiny and angry at the same time, "and look at how you're acting! It's barely been a few days, how could you be so heartless?"

I suck in a breath, and the anger in my chest bubbles and grows.

"I've been miserable, pookie! Do you know what it's like living in our home all alone, without my beautiful queen there with me? Our bed is cold and lonely, the apartment is like a prison to me now. I can't live without you. My soul is empty when you're gone."

A thought suddenly occurs to me as I fight to keep myself from leaping out of my chair and strangling him, and I narrow my eyes. "What's the date, today?"

Brad splutters. "What? That's not important—"

"It's the twenty-sixth," Olistaire supplies, and his voice sounds cooler than before.

The twenty-sixth. I close my eyes and breathe out slowly. "The internet cut off on you yesterday," I say much, much

more calmly than I feel. "Didn't it, Brad?"

"What?" Brad repeats, and when I open my eyes, I see that his eyes are darting about nervously, now. "That's not—That isn't what we're talking about."

"Isn't it?" I ask, and even though I take another deep breath, this unnatural, angry calm in me is starting to slip away. "You didn't make the long trip here today because your Call of Duty got cut off on you, and you don't have the funds or the desire to pay for your own internet? You're not looking for your wallet to come back home and set it all up for you again?"

Olistaire has one arm laid casually over the table, and I notice his fingers squeeze into a fist.

"Don't change the subject," Brad snaps. "I missed my baby-bear. I came here because I love her, and she said she wanted to work things out between us, for Lucas's sake . But apparently, she doesn't care about her own son anymore. Instead, she's out here fornicating with—with—animals!"

I leap up out of my chair, only just managing to keep myself from yelling. "Don't you talk about Lucas or Oli," I start, but he raises his hands as if in surrender, wriggling his fingers mockingly.

"Oh, Oli, is it? It has a name? Please…"

Where the hell did this… this racist? Speciesist? Side of Brad even come from. Has it really always been lurking under the surface, and I just never saw it? I shudder with a renewed disgust in him. It's like I'm finally seeing him clearly for the first time.

"I am not with you," I hiss, gathering my anger tight and refusing to let myself shout in this cafe. "We are not together. You and I have nothing to do with each other anymore."

"Don't say that, pumpkin…" Brad's face immediately falls, his clear eyes widening in that stupid, fake

earnestness that used to have me thinking he really meant what he said. "We can still make this work. You just have to—"

"It's too late!" I burst out, and suddenly I don't want to fight anymore. I'm tired of trying to convince him of anything, even if it's just to make him leave. He always twists my words, manipulates the conversation away from me and has my head reeling, and without thinking I just… "I'm with Olistaire now, and there's nothing you can say to change that fact."

There's a stunned silence between all three of us, even as the clinks of cutlery and murmur of patrons continue to waft over us.

"You're… You're with

it?"

"I'm with him. " I lift my chin and send an imploring look at Oli, who blinks at me several times before snapping his mouth shut with a soft clunk.

"I don't believe you."

At those four words, I feel my shoulders slump and my expression fall, as an overwhelming exhaustion hits me. Is there nothing I can do or say to make this man just… leave me be?

"You're lashing out, trying to hurt me," Brad continues, and I can practically hear the way his mind is churning as he figures out how to turn my words to his advantage. "And even though you're being a bitch right now, I can forgi—"

The sound of a chair scraping across the floor grates out, and abruptly, Brad stops talking.

Olistaire stands up, calmly and slowly, and though all he does is stand there and look at my ex, Brad swallows thickly and doesn't continue.

"You should go," I eventually say into our silence, and Brad's eyes dart back to me.

"Baby-boo, please, just listen to me for a second—"

"You heard her," Oli interrupts.

I catch something like hatred flash across Brad's normally puppy-wide eyes. "You stay out of this, beast."

Olistaire takes one calm step forward, and Brad immediately scurries away from us. He's absolutely dwarfed by Oli, in both height and sheer bulk, and I suspect the two gleaming, long black horns that he tips slightly down towards my ex help the situation immensely.

"Grace asked you to leave," Olistaire says in a low, polite tone that still manages to hold a wealth of warning. "And as her male, I'm afraid I'll be forced to remove you from her presence, if you don't."

Brad stands there gaping like a fish for several long seconds. "You… You're not her…"

Oli reaches his hand towards me, and I immediately place my fingers in his and allow him to draw me into his side, watching as Brad's eyes widen in real shock now, and he takes another step away.

Oh my god, is this really going to work? Will he believe us? Will he finally leave me the hell alone?

When Oli snakes his hand around my waist and bends to nuzzle at my cheek, I do nothing to stop him, leaning eagerly into his touch as I watch Brad's stunned reaction. Yes, yes, yes. He's falling for it!

Oli's breath hitches quietly as I press into his touch, and his fingers tighten at my waist. But when I turn to him, he only leans back with a playful look in his warm brown eyes. "Pookie-bear," he mutters in a disgustingly sweet voice I've never once heard from him, and I fight mightily to stop myself from rolling my eyes. "Would you like me to dispose of the trash?"

"Well, that depends." I turn to Brad, whose face is smashing through too many emotions now to count. "Bradley?"

Loathing. His face settles on loathing as he looks to Oli, his eyes burning up a storm. "This isn't over."

Then he turns and heads for the exit, ripping the door open before dramatically looking back to me. "I love you, Gracie!" he shouts, and now I'm wincing with embarrassment on top of everything else, as people turn to look at us. "I'm not going to let you go without a fight! Not to him . "

And then he's gone, and I sink into Olistaire's side with a groan. "Dear Jesus…"

Have I just made everything worse?