Page 90 of Game on, Love
“You started it,” I said to his retreating figure, and his only response was a grunt before the door opened and slammed behind him.
Tugging on my lower lip, I glanced at my phone. A selfish part of me wanted to call him, but he hadn’t even gone to sleep… though his words implied that he would be waiting to hear back from me. I paused, going over his words again and wondering that maybe he meant thatifI called him, he would pick it up, asleep or not. My shoulders dropped, because, if hehadmanaged to fall asleep, I didn’t want to wake him.
Ugh.
“Oh my god, Shut up,” I whispered out loud to my brain.
Once the voice in my head was low enough to let the remaining working brain cells form a proper thought, I relaxed, grabbing my phone.
If I texted him that everything was fine, even if he had fallen asleep, this way, when he woke up while I was sleeping, I wouldn’t have left him wondering what the hell happened.
Me:He just left, but everything is fine.
Oliver:You sure? I’m here if you need me.
Me:Yeah, he wanted to talk about Vedant’s interviews but he got where I was coming from.
Me:And, even if you have a chilled day tomorrow, you still need to try and get some sleep.
When his reply came back within a second, I suddenly felt relieved at my decision.
Oliver:I’m glad to hear that.
Oliver:You should go to bed, too; you’ve got a busy day tomorrow.
Oliver:Sweet dreams, Gorgeous.
I went to sleep with a smile.
27
Oliver
MY OLD FAMILY KITCHENwas a familiar place to me. As I stood by the counter, my hands moving instinctively as I chopped some mushrooms, the memories of the summers I’d spent in this very house learning to cook with Mum came back to me.
Growing up, it was the only time she and I spent together. Between managing her firm and Dad’s career demands, the weekends I came home from boarding school were split between going over the footage from my matches with Dad and her constantly going over the things I needed to focus on in the next term. I suppose the time we’d spent here was her way of making sure I learnt how to manage once I started travelling alone, knowing how picky I was when it came to food, but at the same time, learning how to unwind. It wasn’t like I needed to that often, but sometimes, after a difficult match, it helped more than I admitted.
Tonight, though, there was a different kind of purpose to it. My laptop was humming on the counter with the last version of a proposal I was tweaking for Mum. It wasn’t what I’d come home for—after my call with Raina this morning, I’d managed to get a couple of hours of sleep before I’d driven down to visit Dad like he asked—but I’d seen the scattered papers on the dining table with a project she’d mentioned at dinner the other night, and I couldn’t help it.
When they both moved out of the townhouse a couple of years back, she’d stepped back from her firm and had started working from home, only doing projects here and there for her long-time clients, but ever since Dad got sick last year,she’d completely taken a backseat. At first, she hadn’t minded, yearning for a break after having run around for years, but seeing her light up when she spoke to her clients at the gallery had me wondering if she’d started missing the structure she’d formed as unbalanced and chaotic as it may have been.
I knew she’d never ask for my help, but she’d been the one to push me for my degree, and it only felt right to use it to help her.
Adding the mushrooms in a pot to cook, I checked again on my rice. Once I was sure it seemed fine, I grabbed my laptop again. I was halfway through going over some of the budgets for her new project when the sound of a door creaking filled the space.
A minute later, I spotted Dad shuffling into the kitchen, his steps much slower these days, his tall frame a shadow of what it used to be, but his presence was still unmistakable.
“Smells good in here,” His voice was gravelly but warm.
“Hey, Dad,” I said, taking a step in his direction but pausing as he waved me off. “I thought you were still resting.”
“Resting gets boring,” He said with a grin as he lowered himself on the chair. “Besides, I heard you clanking around in here and thought I’d come to keep an eye on you before you burn the kitchenagain.”
“That was one time. I was twelve, and it wasn’t thewholekitchen.” I replied though I couldn’t help but grin. The pan had caught fire after I’d placed a patty directly without so much as defrosting it, and then, instead of doing quite literally anything sensible, I’d grabbed the nearest bottle of what I thought was water to splash over it. Only it wasn’t water—it was white wine. Safe to say, I wasn’t allowed to cook alone for a long time after that.
Dad matched my grin, his gaze slowly shifting to my laptop. “You watching game footage?”
I shook my head. “Just sorting out stuff for Mum for work.”