The Garavaglias

Chapter 6

Its been a week since beau and I had our heated interaction. Lately we've been walking on egg shells around each other, afraid to rupture some kind of unspoken balance or truce, or maybe we're just ignoring each other. I never brought anything back up in fear that he might snap again, although I wish he'd communicate more. He reluctantly started going back to work a few days ago, and that left his apartment quiet, although he was worried about me being alone. I had to prove that I wasn't going to get into anything and check in constantly. Ironic that we could text every other hour but not speak face to face. Today I plan on visiting my mom. I decide I won't tell Beau where I'm going to irritate him. I click off my phone, and walk to the bathroom to try and look presentable. I pull my messy hair into a pony. It had grown out since returning, and I contemplated letting it grow while thinking of what to say to my mother today, if she's awake that is, when Beau's elevator dings. I wrap my sweater tighter around my chest and walk around the corner to see if he had come home for lunch. Much to my surprise, I found a woman standing at the counter, unpacking what looked to be take out. She had brunette hair wrapped tightly in a low bun, and great curves under her pencil skirt and black blazer. Her heels clicked on the floor as she walked around the counter to place a bottle of juice in the fridge. When she turned back around to face the counter, she noticed me.
"Oh, hello. I'm Olivia." She greeted with a polite smile on her face and her hand extended towards me. I shook it.
"Summer." I smile back.
"Beautiful name." She comments. "Beau asked me to drop off this food for you, hope you like Chinese." She motioned towards the food.
"Beau sent you? Are you like post mates or something?"
"Oh no," she laughs, "I'm Beau's assistant." My stomach clenches. Jealous? Am I Jealous? I study her closer; green eyes, (similar to Beau's) perfect eyebrows and bone structure, fit, nice tits, round ass. She was exactly his type. I wonder if they've ever..–
"Well, I'll be heading back to the office now. It was nice to meet you." She says, a hint of an Australian accent underlying her voice. I guess I can add foreign to the list of reasons she's better than me. I watch as her hips sway elegantly towards the elevator. All I can muster in response is a small smile and a quick wave. My heart sinks a bit. There's no way he's not fucking her. I mean he's not fucking me, so there has to be someone. His sex drive was entirely too high for him suddenly be celibate. I take a deep breath, anger starting to swell in my gut. He swore he hadn't slept with anyone else. But I knew exactly how he liked his assistants; bent over his desk.
"Fuck." I mutter to myself. I lost my appetite. I pick up the food and shove it into the fridge, forcefully, before picking up the car keys Beau left for me for emergencies and head out.

A bit of driving alone did me some good, not to mention Beau's luxury sports Lincoln has heated seats. Which are definitely coming in handy seeing as I'm currently sitting in the hospital parking structure, unable to warm up my cold feet. An inkling told me that my mother's condition hasn't miraculously changed over night, and it's too hard to see her in a vegetative state. When I do finally muster to courage to step foot inside the bleak building, my pulse automatically quickens. My footsteps slow, I take as much time as I can getting to her room. I even take five minutes to turn the door handle. But when I do open it, I'm surprised to see her sitting fully upright, seemingly conscious.
"Mom?" I say with a small voice, stepping into the room and closing the door behind me.
"Summer." She smiles up at me.
"How are you feeling mom?" I feel like a child again.
"Much better. I've been up for about thirty minutes." She notes, standing slowly and stretching her limbs.
"Did the doctors say how the chemo went?" I ask, wrapping my arm around her waist to steady her.
"They said it went wonderful, well worth the pain." She pats my hand, but let's me help her walk around the room. "They're estimating that I have more time." She says, beaming. My heart squeezes with relief and I fight the urge to cry.
"How much longer do you need to stay?"
"Just a few more days, they need to monitor my recovery."
"Well that's amazing!" I exclaim, eager for her to be in the comfort of her own home.
"Yes it is."
We walk in silence around the hospital building, she was still hooked up to an IV, so she uses it to balance on. The walk is peaceful, there isn't much that needed to be said and I prefer that, a nice comfortable quiet.