mess between us, and knowing, without a shadow of a doubt, that whatever we’d been, whatever we’d had, whatever we could have been...was over.
The tension between us thickened with clouds, a rumble of thunder was the sounds of hearts breaking.
Justin shifted by Gil, his hand skating on the bedspread.
Olive immediately pushed him away, her voice high and worried. “Don’t hurt him. He has a hole in his tummy. Things might fall out.”
Justin coughed. “A hole?”
I fought my smile, amazed that I found Gil’s injury humorous thanks to his adorable child.
Gil groaned, struggling with his own grim grin. “I told you, little spinach. It’s not a hole anymore. Things won’t fall out of me.”
“But I saw it. Back at Uncle Jeffrey’s. Blood fell out of you. Lots and lots of blood.” She looked as if she fought tears and a tiny bit of rage. “You said that if I ever hurt myself that bleeding wasn’t good, and I should get help straight away. But you were sleeping and didn’t get help, so you still have a hole where blood can slip out.”
Gil twisted in bed, swallowed his grunt of pain, and scooped his daughter into a side hug. Pressing his lips to her hair, he murmured, “I love you so, so much.” His smile glowed with affection. “You’re very sweet to worry about me, but I did get help. I’m in the hospital, and the doctors sewed up the hole inside me. I’m all better now. See?” He raised his arm, showing no blood stained the white sheets around him. “No more bleeding.”
“I dunno.” Olive wrinkled her nose in distrust. “Are you sure you’re okay?”
“Never better.”
“But you said it hurt when I hugged you there.” She pointed at his side. “You shouldn’t be in pain. I don’t want you in pain. If the doctors can’t fix you, I can. I know I can.” She wriggled in Gil’s embrace. “Tell me what to do, and I’ll do it.”
Gil kissed her nose before letting her go and reclining against the pillows. “You do make it better. Just having you here takes all my pain away.”
Olive pouted. “No, it doesn’t. I’m not magic, you know.”
Justin chuckled, catching Gil’s eye, sharing the vibrancy of the little girl willing to stand up to agony for daring to hurt her father.
Gil gave me a quick look, his face unguarded for the first time since I’d answered his job advertisement. No hidden secrets, no diabolical blackmails, just him in a hospital bed with his daughter from another woman fussing over him, and my heart healed a little. It let go of its own pain and sense of betrayal, repairing a tiny piece of friendship.
My feet drifted toward Gil without my permission. I joined their group, not in touching distance, but no longer ready to bolt out the door.
Gil sighed heavily, his gaze tangling with mine. His head tipped down in a silent thank you.
My voice scratched as I asked, “Are you sure you’re all right?”
He grimaced. “I should be the one asking you that.” His eyes flashed. “O...God, I’m so sorry.”
“It’s fine.”
“It’s not fine. And it won’t ever be, but I need you to know how grateful I am. I took far more than you were willing to give. I’ll never forgive myself, but you’re the reason I found Olive—”
“Don’t.” I held up my hand. “I understand.”
Justin cleared his throat, moving away a little, giving us privacy.
This wasn’t the place to discuss.
Not with Gil fresh out of surgery, cops barricading the door, and his daughter who listened to every word.
“But how can you stand there and—”
“Because it’s my choice what to forgive and what not to. It’s over.” I sighed, signalling an end to airing dirty laundry. “It’s okay, Gil. Truly.”
He snorted as if he couldn’t believe me. His mouth opened as if to argue but I shot my attention to Olive instead. “You’re wrong, you know.”
Olive pinned me with her grey stare. “Wrong? About what?”
“About not being magic.”
“I don’t get it.”
I nudged my chin at Gil, smiling gently. “You do take his pain away. I knew your dad before you existed, and I knew him while he was searching for you, and I can say you are definitely magic. Want to know how I know?”
Olive licked her lips, her gaze so eager to learn. “How?”
“You make him happy.” I looked at Gil, unable to ignore the pull. To ignore the truth of what I said. “You make him whole. You take away all his pain, internal and