Page 78 of When We Were Us

I carried the ring to my bedroom, dropping it into my jewelry box beside my own engagement and wedding rings. They sat there, glinting accusingly in the dim light. I knew I would probably never have a use for them again.

As I closed the box, I realized no one had commented on my bare finger. I'd need an excuse if someone did, especially my family. Ty was the only one outside of Oliver and myself who knew I wanted a divorce. The weight of my secret pressed down on me; a burden I wasn't sure how long I could bear.

Chapter 17

I mostly ignored Oliver, letting the nurses that I employed take care of him. He was getting stronger each day and eventually I would need to make a decision on whether to move out. Even though I had told Oliver he would be moving out, I wasn’t sure I wanted to live in a home we shared when times were good.

For Thanksgiving, I made an excuse that I was busy with a work project so I wouldn’t need to see my family. I didn’t want to see them. My mother was hounding me lately because she knew something wasn’t right. It got so I told Henri to take a message or let my cell go to voicemail.

Oliver was still weak and used a walker to get around but at least he was getting out of bed. His body had shrunk but I could see outlines of his former muscles. I had a feeling once he got well enough, he would be back to the gym. I continued to work out, usually in the early morning after the nightmares I experienced woke me.

The shrill clatter jolted me from my sleep on Thanksgiving morning. My heart pounding, I bolted upright, throwing off the covers and rushing into the hallway. The sight that greeted me made my stomach lurch. Oliver lay sprawled on the floor, his walker toppled beside him. At the far end of the corridor, Trouble cowered. I frowned, suddenly realizing the absence of Oliver's nurse.

"Oliver!" I gasped, kneeling beside him. "Are you hurt? Where's your nurse?"

He grimaced, attempting to push himself up. "She went home. It's Thanksgiving, remember? Did you forget to check if the agency has staff for holidays?"

I ignored his accusation, focusing on the immediate problem. "How did you fall?"

Oliver's eyes flicked to Trouble. "The damn dog bit the tennis ball on the walker leg. Pulled me right off balance."

I glanced at the overturned walker, noticing the tennis balls we'd recently attached to prevent floor scratches. Trouble had been eyeing those balls for weeks.

Oliver grunted, struggling to right himself. His efforts were pitiful, and despite my anger towards him, I couldn't leave him helpless. I grasped his arms, intending to help him up.

In a swift motion that belied his earlier weakness, Oliver pulled me down beside him, pinning me beneath his body.

"Let me up, Oliver," I snarled, pushing against his chest.

His eyes bore into mine, filled with a desperate intensity. "I need to know, Ryleigh. How many men have you fucked?"

I struggled harder, shocked by his unexpected strength. "That's none of your business! Get off me before I scream."

Oliver's lip curled. "Scream all you want. We're alone up here. Now tell me."

Something snapped inside me. A hysterical laugh bubbled up, tears streaming down my face. "You possessive asshole," I choked out.

A flicker of realization crossed Oliver's features. His grip loosened slightly. "You... you haven't been with anyone else, have you?"

I swiped at my damp cheeks, my laughter fading. "No, you bastard. But don't think I haven't wanted to."

Pain etched itself across Oliver's face. His voice cracked as he whispered, "Can't we fix this? I love you, Ryleigh."

I took advantage of his distraction to slide out from under him, sitting up and wrapping my arms around my knees. "I can't forgive you, Oliver. The lies, the betrayal... it makes me sick."

"Don't you understand why I did what I did?" he pleaded.

I shot him a withering glare. "You didn't need to protect me. I'm not a child."

Oliver's shoulders slumped. "I know you're not. I just... I couldn't bear the thought of anything happening to you."

"How did that work out?" I sneered.

He flinched. "Not well. I hear you at night….”

“Hear me what?”

“Cry out. You still have nightmares.”

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