Olivia's Point Of View ~

Eric rolls off me and onto his back. I remain on my back . . the ceiling in our sights. Our heavy breathing is all that is heard throughout the room, our damp chests moving up and down quite rapidly. Eric sits up . . gulping down water from a bottle that's sitting on his bedside table. I begin to trace my fingers down his bare back that's facing me. A wave of peace flushes over my exhausted self. 

His phone beeps. I can't see who it maybe as Eric holds it. 

"Who is it, Eric? . . " I ask curious. 

"Hmm? . . oh it's just the hospital about my grandmother . . " He tells me. Snapping his head to the side quickly in an attempt to look at me then bringing his attention back to his phone in his hand just as fast. 

I hear the click sound of the keypad . . his must be writing something back to them. I wonder what he's saying. I have been wondering what's going on with his grandmother. Eric doesn't really say that much about her or anything about her progress in the hospital. Well, I guess that's just how Eric is. He doesn't really like to share certain things. That's okay though. It may be a very emotional topic to talk about. I understand that. Eric hops out of bed, sitting on the edge as he puts his pants back on as they lay on the floor beside his side of the bed. He stands up . . walking over to the dresser on my side of the bed and throws on a plain grey shirt. 

I sit up, holding the blanket to my naked chest. 

"Are you going to the hospital? . . " I ask. 

"Yeah, I am. What are you doing today? . . " Eric asks me. 

That's weird. Why does he want to know what I'm doing today? Well, he may just need some time alone for when he gets back from the hospital. I get that. I'm not working for a few days so I'm thinking of what I can do to pass some time today while Eric is visiting his sick grandmother. 

Hmm . . 

"Umm . . well, I might do some shopping for a few hours . . " I tell him. 

He nods. Taking a mental note of what I just told him while he finishes up getting freshened up to leave. If he needs some time alone, I'm going to give that to him . . no questions asked. He deserves that. Oh . . he'll definitely tell his grandmother about our engagement. Oh, I know she'll be so happy for us. 

"Good. Hours you say, Olivia? . . " He questions. 

"Yeah, a few hours I'll be shopping . . " I tell him. Smiling to him. 

He comes over to me, kissing me on the cheek and quickly walks out the bedroom door . . his footsteps defending down the flight of stairs and out the front door. I hop out of bed, wrapping the white bed sheet around my naked body. Making my way to the bedroom window. I look out. Seeing his car driving down the street, around the corner and out of my sights. I look down . . my head falling down softly as I start to think. 

About Michael and how he must be feeling today. 

I let out a soft sigh. I feel terrible. I do. What he said to me last night outside the restaurant . . I didn't want mean to just walk away from him the way that I did. I was shocked. Completely. I didn't know what to say back to him. I didn't know how to react. For 10 years of our friendship . . Michael has held this secret from me. A secret about his love for me . . real love. True and real love. Wow. It's hard to believe almost. He just locked it away in his mind where only he had the key. I walk downstairs . . the soft shuffle from my bare feet on the wood floor boards is all that is heard. I walk towards my phone that's sitting on the kitchen counter. I haven't spoken to Michael since last night. Since . . he told me. I want to talk to him . . ask him how he is today and that I miss him. I need to call him and make sure that he's doing fine . . doing okay. Just thinking about it just tears my heart into tiny little pieces. 

Poor Michael.

I know that I hurt him bad last night. I know that I did. His face told me that I did. 

Did Michael expect me to tell him the same? did he want me to say that I'm in love with him as well? It totally took me by surprise. I will admit that I did have some feelings for Michael . . before. Back to before I even met Eric. But then Eric and I started to date and then . . those feelings just kinda went away a little. 

I walk back upstairs. Into the bathroom . . hoping into the shower. 

Shopping . . that's exactly what I need. 

_____________________

Oh. I sit down at a small table, putting my bags of shopping on the floor next to my feet. That's better, feeling as if the whole world has just been lifted off me. I let out a relieved sigh. My large cappuccino coffee is placed gracefully in front of me. My eyes turning into love hearts as I exchange my thank you's towards the lovely young waitress. My phone is on the coffee table. I pick it up and decide to text Eric. I won't call . . it's not the right time to do that. 

I text him . . 

"How's your grandmother? give her my love. Call me when you can, babe! I love you!" 

I hope that Eric knows how much I want him to know that I'm here for him. Whatever comes his way . . I want to be apart of it. We are getting married now, so I want him to know that's how I feel. Eric hasn't said that much about our wedding . . well, I suppose it's way too early for that. We only just got engaged last night. Oh, just thinking about it makes me smile like a spoiled child. It was just so perfect. There was no fault about it. The proposal was just beautiful. The entire night was wonderful. Should I call Eric? I want to hear his voice. 

I go into my contacts list . . clicking on his name, pressing the green call button with the tap of my freshly manicured finger. I place my phone to my ear. It's ringing . . and ringing still. Ugh. Gone straight to voicemail.

It's okay. He must just be talking to the doctors and all of that.

My mind thinking again. To be honest, I haven't stopped thinking about Michael since I woke up today. I'm still holding my phone in my hand . . my finger scrolling down the screen to my contacts. His name is displayed before me as my point finger hovers over the call button. I'm left thinking once again . . deciding to myself if I should press my finger down just a few centimetres lower to call him. Letting my phone to ring in hopes of hearing Michael pick up his and talk to me. 

Should I? . . 

Maybe it's not such a good idea. It may not be . . I want to give some space. I think that I'll call him later today. Yeah . . that's what I'm going to do. If Michael calls me then . . great. I hope he does it first. Because I think right now, I want Michael to make the first move. He may be embarrassed as he does feel that way very easily. I'll just wait until later tonight, I think. That seems like a good idea. I look at my phone, the time always seems to creep away from me. I finish off my coffee . . I want to go home as early as I can and make a special meal for Eric for when he gets back from the hospital. Eric will love that. He deserves that. 

I hear the gravel underneath my wheels as I put my car into park and switching off the engine. Oh, Eric is home . . his car is here. It's sitting in front of mine in the driveway. I can't wait to see him, I'm going to give him a big hug and a kiss. My handbag sits in the passenger seat. I pick it up, throwing the strap over my shoulder. And grabbing a few shopping bags I have. The gravel is underneath my shoes . . it's the sound of small rocks shattering as I put one foot in front of the other. I open the front door and putting my bag of the couch . . hanging my coat up. I look around the house and . . 

Oh that's strange  . . 

No sigh of Eric. I walk into the kitchen, putting the heavy groceries down on the counter. 

Wait. What was that noise? . . 

I think that it's coming from upstairs. 

"Eric? . . are you home? . . " I call out. 

I hear nothing back in response. In the bedroom, that's where it's coming from. Oh, he's probably just watching the television. I walk up the stairs . . quietly making my way to our bedroom door. Turning the handle and opening the door.

My heart stops. 

I freeze.

What the fuck is this?

This is painful. I'm hurt with what is going on before me. It's not a dream . . it's real life.

to be continued.