The Presence of Grace (Love and Loss #2)(17)
“Yeah,” he said, obviously thinking about his next words carefully. “Can I take you somewhere?”
His question caught me off guard. “Uh, sure,” I said hesitantly.
“I just thought maybe we could go for a walk. Talk a little.”
“Okay,” I said softly, surprised by the sudden change in plans. He stood and held his hand out to me, helping me up. As we approached the door he stepped in front of me, pushing the door open, letting me pass by. I felt his hand gently press on the small of my back and something inside me dissolved. It had been so long since someone had taken care of me in any way. The simple act of opening a door for me sent my heart racing and I smiled because it was so Devon.
He led me to his SUV and again opened the door for me. I watched him walk around the front of the car and slide into the seat next to me.
“I thought we’d go to this park I take the kids to sometimes. There’s a pond in the middle with a nice path that leads around it.” He looked to me as if he were waiting until I agreed to start the car.
“Sounds good, although parks usually close at sundown.” I looked out the window to see the sun was waning in the sky, the blue taking on a more orangey-purple hue.
“I’m willing to live on the wild side for one night if you are,” he said, his smile returning and causing my stomach to flip.
“Let’s go, then.”
By the time we made it to the park the sun was even lower in the sky, but looking through the windshield at the sight before me, I couldn’t care less.
The park was pretty massive, at least compared to what I’d envisioned in my mind. Sure, there was a playground, but there was also a picnic area, six separate basketball courts, and a soccer field. In the middle of it all was a pond with a fountain, spouting water up at least twenty feet. The path around the pond was lit with lights, as was the water shooting up from the fountain.
“This is beautiful,” I said, still trying to take in all the beauty of the water and blooming flowers around it.
“Shall we?”
I pushed open my door and joined Devon in the damp, warm air of the evening, glad I’d gotten an iced drink. I followed his lead and we walked to the path, taking leisurely steps at a slow and relaxed pace.
“So, besides the second job, have any plans for the summer?” Devon asked, breaking the comfortable silence of the three minutes it took for us to make it to the path.
“Not really. I’ve got a lot of books I want to read, but that’s about it.”
He chuckled, then said, “That sounds amazing.”
“I imagine you don’t get a lot of free time, being a single parent.”
“Tons,” he said with more soft laughter. “The hour between them going to bed and me passing out is just enough time to accomplish exactly nothing.” His laughter died, and then he continued. “Olivia used to be really great at planning things for the summer. Swimming lessons, soccer camps, play dates. I was pretty oblivious. I just went to work, came home, and went where she told me on weekends. It never occurred to me that keeping kids active and occupied in the summer was a full-time job.”
“Sounds like she was a great mother.”
I caught him nodding in my periphery. “Definitely.” He was quiet for a moment—we both were. I didn’t know what to say next, but he continued. “Can I tell you about her? This is strange for me—a first. I haven’t met anyone I wanted to spend time with, but it feels wrong to be with you and not get it all out. Does that make sense?”
It did and it didn’t; I wanted to spend time with him too, and I wanted to know about his marriage and his wife, but it didn’t feel like any of my business. So I told him the truth. “I’ll listen to anything you want to tell me.”
He was quiet for a moment, but then he spoke and had all my attention.
“I met Olivia my junior year of college. She showed up at a party and seemed to be one of those typical freshman girls who went to frat parties to get drunk and hook up. The instant I saw her, there was something about her that pulled me to her, but she was with one of my frat brothers. I tried to brush the thoughts away, but all night I watched as she got progressively drunker and my brother got progressively handsier.
“At the end of the night I saw them going up the stairs and he was practically carrying her, she was so drunk. He looked buzzed, but definitely wasn’t as gone as she was. It made me sick, so I intervened. I pretty much wrestled her away from him and she was so drunk she didn’t even notice. He was pissed, called me a cock-block, and I knew my whole frat would be angry with me, but I didn’t care. I took her in my room, laid her in my bed, and slept on the floor.”
He paused, taking a sip of his coffee, and continued slowly on the path.
“When she woke up the next morning, she assumed we’d slept together and was treating me the way she probably treated all the guys she woke up with the next morning. She tried to brush me off, tried to act as though it wasn’t a big deal, but when I explained to her what had really happened—that my fraternity brother was going to practically rape her—she just broke down on my bed. I sat with her, all day, and listened to her story. Turns out, she’d dated a guy all through high school and during her junior year he actually had raped her.”
“Oh, God,” I said automatically, my hand coming up to cover my mouth as I gasped. “That’s terrible.”