Oliver’s chest tightened as he hurried up the stairs toward the master bedroom.
He pushed open the living room door and spotted Patricia curled up on the sofa, flipping through a book. At the sound of the door, she looked up, her face breaking into a bright smile. “You’re back?”
Patricia set her book aside, slipped into her slippers, and stood. When she saw the rain still dripping from his shoulders, her voice softened with concern. “Is it still raining out?”
Oliver couldn’t quite meet her clear, steady gaze. “Yeah, hasn’t stopped.”
“Why aren’t you in bed yet?”
“I was waiting for you. You didn’t pick up my calls. I got worried.”
He pressed his lips together, shrugged off his wet jacket and tossed it over the back of the couch. Holding out his arms, he said, “Come here. I need a hug.”
Patricia slipped right into his arms, tucking herself against his chest. Her voice was quiet. “Are you mad at me?”
Oliver never bothered hiding his feelings from her. “A little bit.”
He didn’t like it when Patricia spent too much time out. He always told her straight. If he was upset, he said so.
Hector always joked that Oliver didn’t know how to talk about his feelings, but that wasn’t true. He just went quiet to calm himself down, not wanting Patricia to see a side of him he tried to keep hidden. He worried he’d scare her off.
“I knew you were downstairs at my office, but you didn’t wait for me or come up. So, yeah, I was a little annoyed.”
Patricia turned her face, catching the faint smell of alcohol on his breath. “So you went out drinking?”
“Had a few drinks with Hector. Not much.”
Patricia sighed. “I didn’t go up to see you because Sara was upset. You treat me and her so differently—she almost cried.”
She flopped back against his chest. “I’m exhausted. I had to cheer up Sara, then come home and worry about you too.”
Oliver let out a quiet laugh. “So you used my card to make her feel better?”
Patricia looked up, surprised. “How’d you know?”


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