Globetrotter Ingrid gets a fabulous fresh start when her job takes her to Melbourne, Australia. Here she meets wise and sweet Oliver, who makes her forget she doesn't have a heart.
This successful stability prompts Ingrid to accept an invitation to...
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November 2018
Normally, Oliver would have ignored random messages from creepy strangers accusing his girlfriend of cheating. Especially when said creepy stranger turned out to be a bitter ex. And he had ignored them, up until Filip sent a screenshot of an exchange between Ingrid and her friend from Munich, Dale.
You were seeing him when we fucked, weren't you?...
For some reason, his breath caught in his throat, and Oliver took a moment to finally do the math. Ingrid's surgery had taken place on November third. The doctor hadn't been able to provide specifics, but he'd mentioned, in passing, that the embryo must have been at least six weeks old. Ingrid had flown out to him in Paris on October eighth.
The blood drained from his face. It couldn't have been him. It couldn't have been his. Ingrid had known, and that was what she'd wanted to tell him after the surgery. A cold shiver ran down his spine, and then... Silence. His thunderous heartbeat quietened down. His thoughts stilled. He'd seen it coming before anything had ever started and now it was here.
The heartbreak had arrived.
Nevertheless, after screenshotting his entire conversation with the ex, Oliver blocked Filip on social media and went about his day. He wouldn't let it get to him before he had a chance to talk to Ingrid about it. She would tell him the truth... wouldn't she?
When he got back to her place in the evening, Oliver found Ingrid curled up on the sofa with a book and the cats. That was how she spent most of her time these days, since any strenuous activity was strictly verboten. The doctors had allowed her to do some light exercises and go on walks, but no heavy lifting or any such efforts.
At first, Ingrid had bemoaned being a damsel in distress who couldn't even do her own shopping. Then he'd made it into a joke about a princess being attended to by her faithful manservant, and she had grown into her part.
"Honey, I'm home!" Oliver greeted as he walked through the front door. It had started out sarcastically, but he had also grown into his part.
Ingrid sat up, smiling at him. "Welcome back. How was your day?"
A pang of hurt sliced through his heart. That sweet, sweet smile, so compassionate and vulnerable, had kept him from adding two and two together all this time. Oliver struggled to compose himself.
"Not bad," he answered, walking over to kiss her on the forehead.
Maverick hopped on the back of the sofa, stretching for a smooch of his own, and Oliver scooped him up in his arms. The tomcat climbed up his arm and perched himself on Oliver's shoulders, making the humans laugh. Momma didn't rise from her cosy corner at Ingrid's feet.
After dinner, which Ingrid had cooked, they settled together with the cats on the sofa, putting on a show on TV. Oliver's mind drifted, though. Once opened, that Pandora's box had to be explored.
