Against All Odds

Chapter Three

Waking up in the morning is rough. For a few brief seconds, everything seems just as it always has been. But the body pressed against mine is definitely not Aaron's. That thought causes my eyes to flicker open, looking down at the hand wrapped around my waist.

There are marks of colored paint on the tan hand, one that I easily recognize as Ollie. Then everything comes flooding back: the doctor's appointment, Aaron leaving, throwing out all the baby stuff, and Ollie coming over.

And just like that, I am wide awake. Letting out a soft sigh, I try to squirm out of bed. It takes a bit of maneuvering, since Ollie pulls me tighter against his chest as I try to move away from him.

He grumbles when I finally pull away, brows furrowed as he buries his face in my pillow. The sight has me shaking my head, surprised how deep of a sleeper he can be.

The house is silent as I walk through, seeming almost too big now. When Aaron and I first decided to rent this house, we did it with future kids in mind. There are four bedrooms and bathrooms, with a basement and large backyard. With the kid prospect being dashed, though, the house just feels too empty.

Shivering, I grab the blanket from off of the couch, wrapping it over my shoulders as I shuffle into the kitchen. The coffee machine is already gurgling, having started at 7:30 this morning, just as it does every morning. It is something I have much appreciated, ever since Virginia- Ollie's grandama- got it for me as a wedding gift.

I am just sitting down on the couch with my fresh cup of coffee- some caramel creamer mixed in- when I hear a familiar ringtone. Ollie's phone is buzzing on the coffee table, and I reach forward to pick it up.

His grandama's name is flashing across the screen, and I quickly answer it.

"Hello?"

"Milo, dear, is that you?" she asks, her voice just as smooth as always. She sounds every bit of the alpha that she is, always confident, and her smooth tenor emanates this.

"Yes, Virginia. How are you?" I ask, taking a quick sip of my coffee.

"I'm doing wonderful, dear. How are you?"

My lips purse as I try to think of a response. She has always been good at telling when either of us are lying. Before I even have a chance, though, she is already talking again. "Oh no, Milo. What happened?"

"Nothing, I'm fine," I say, voice coming out weaker than I intended. "Just a rough week is all."

She doesn't say anything for a minute, and I can tell that she wants to ask more. But she just lets soft a soft sigh. "Alright. Why don't you come over for brunch with Ollie today? You sound like you could use a nice breakfast."

"Oh, I don't want to intrude," I say, quickly trying to backtrack.

"Don't even try that with me, Milo. You know that you wouldn't be intruding. Now, go wake my grandson up and have him over at my house by 11:00. See you soon, dear."

She hangs up before I can even think about protesting. I should have known better than to try and get out of her usual Saturday brunch. This has been a longstanding tradition for her and Milo. His Apa wasn't the best after his Opa died, turning to work in order to bury the grief. Grandama wasn't going to let Ollie suffer, though, so she ended up gaining custody of him when he was just eleven. I don't even think he has seen his father ever since he signed the papers giving Virginia parental rights.

The grandfather clock in the corner tells me that it is only a few minutes after eight. We don't have to leave here until quarter till eleven since Virginia's house isn't too far from here. Grabbing the television remote, I turn the news on, letting the daily failings of politics and the rare happy story roll over me as I drink my coffee and try to wake up.