The Finished Masterpiece Boxed Set - Pepper Winters Page 0,260

don’t cry.” I wriggled a little in her embrace and brushed back her hair.

Her eyes met mine.

My heart pounded.

And I said, “I’ll stay...for a little while.”

Chapter Thirty-Two

______________________________

Olin

“HELLO, GIL.”

Gil stood beside the metal table in the visitation area, his love for me evident in his gaze.

My heart kicked, responded, replied.

It’d been eight days since I’d seen him.

Eight days since I’d listened to his sentencing.

Eight days since I’d come to the realisation that I was still stupidly in love with him and still stupidly unable to make a decision about my life.

I’d been a fool to think I could walk away.

I’d been an idiot to think I could stay.

Limbo was where I’d existed the past few years since my accident, and I couldn’t seem to get free. Especially now that Gil had stolen the final pieces of my soul and became untouchable.

“O...hi.” His voice licked around me with velveteen love. His affection no longer buried beneath ice. He seemed different. He was a ward of the crown, yet...he seemed freer than I’d ever seen. “It’s so nice to see you.”

The urge to hug him was agony.

But we’d been told hugging wasn’t permitted. At least he’d been placed in a low security prison where face-to-face visitation was allowed and not maximum security where glass and phone was the only way to communicate.

That would’ve been an extra level of hell for Olive.

This was already unbearable.

I wanted to tell him what the last week had entailed.

How my lease ended in a month and I didn’t know what I should do.

How Olive had begged me to sleep in her room at Justin’s four out of the past eight nights, because she couldn’t cope knowing he was gone.

How Justin had offered again for me to move in, and I didn’t know what my answer should be.

My tongue tied.

Desperate to tell him everything. To ask him what he wanted. To hear him say he could never let me go, and that I should stay.

And wait.

But Olive barrelled past me, stealing Gil’s attention.

“Olive Oyl.” His entire body softened as he fell to one knee. His arms opened wide, looking like a proud father, starving man, and pained protector all at once.

“You can’t hug—”

Too late.

Olive launched into his embrace, and Gil trapped her close. He buried his face against her sweet, strawberry smelling hair, and Olive clung to him like a baby spider monkey.

They didn’t obey the rules as fresh tears rolled down Olive’s cheek as she leaned back to kiss Gil’s five o’clock shadow.

He kissed her back before pushing her painfully away and standing. A guard caught our gaze in warning, shaking his head at our affection.

Gil cleared his throat and pinned his attention back on Olive. “Wow, little spinach. You better stop growing because I swear you’re already bigger than last week.”

Olive smiled but didn’t laugh. Her bubbliness had faded somewhat. But her joy at being with Gil was evident. “I’ll stop growing. I promise I won’t grow another inch until you’re home.”

“Nah, you can’t do that. Ignore me. You have to grow into a gorgeous creature who will kill me on a daily basis with how awesome she is.”

She blushed.

Now our reunion was over, the rest of the world came back into focus. Other families chatted with loved ones, the visiting room buzzing with relief and regret at seeing each other but still torn apart.

We stood in the corner; our own private oasis.

Olive’s gaze skipped over other parents with their kids, grateful prisoners, stern guards, and doting wives and girlfriends.

The scene was sweet with so much affection but raw with so much loss.

I hoped she wouldn’t have a nightmare tonight.

She’d suffered pretty bad since Gil had gone. She’d wake up screaming and only my touch could snap her out of it. If Justin tried to soothe her, he just made it worse.

On the nights that I hadn’t stayed, he’d called in the early hours of the morning, begging me to talk to her. To help her know she was safe, that Jeffrey was dead, and Justin wasn’t her uncle.

Child Protective Services had also called, checking in on Olive’s living arrangements and providing the name of a therapist with skills in helping children overcome traumatic events. At least they were happy that Olive’s best interests were upheld and allowed us to keep temporary custody.

We were all tired.

And confused on how best to make our new realities work.

Cupping Olive’s cheek, Gil earned a scowl from a nearby guard. He reluctantly let her go and motioned to the metal chairs