Page 25 of Keep Me

Britt and everything we did last night flashed through my mind when I looked at that shirt, and Olana was tainting it. Like she did everything in my life.

Clutching the edges of the collar, she glared at me. “You don’t expect me to answer the door naked, do you?”

Funny. When I took that shirt off last night, I’d planned to never wash it again. Now all I wanted to do was burn it.

“That’s odd,” I gritted out, clenching my hands. I was close to kicking her out in that shirt, and getting rid of her forever. The only thing stopping me was the possibility that Britt might see her, and I doubt she’d believe me if I didn’t get to explain whyOlana was here first. “You were wearing your clothes from last night when I got in the shower.”

A horrific thought crossed my mind. Had she gotten naked to try to join me?

Olana’s smile faltered. “I just wanted to feel a little more relaxed. A lot happened last night.”

“Tell me about it,” I grumbled, walking past her and kicking the sheets out of my way. Not only did I miss a night with Britt, but I had to sleep on the floor even though I’d paid for a damn king-sized bed.

I picked up my phone, expecting to see messages from Britt, then remembered the battery was drained and I couldn’t find my charger.

Anger coursed through me, as the longer I looked at that shirt, the more I thought about Britt. I should’ve been with her last night, showing her all the ways I planned on cherishing her for the rest of our lives. Instead, I was stuck in my room, arguing with a woman who thought she could blackmail her way back into my bed.

Britt hadn’t come down to find me after I left her half-naked. As annoyed as I was about that fact, I was thankful she hadn’t seen the shitshow of an argument Olana and I had.

Britt would understand. Once I explained what happened, she’d forgive me. We were in it for the long haul, after all.

Once Olana was asleep, I tried to go back to Britt’s room, but in the haze of everything that went on, I couldn’t remember her floor or the number, so I went down to reception and asked for it, who were reluctant to give it to me. Even telling them she was my wife didn’t make them budge. With no paperwork or a ring on my finger, they didn’t believe me. The fact she was registered single to the room didn’t help either.

“You look really good, Ben.” Her voice was frail, as though she was trying to make herself sound more innocent than she was. “I haven’t seen you dress up like that in years.”

I ignored her, straightening my shirt before snatching my phone and my wallet. The battery might be dead, but I wasn’t planning on leaving it anywhere near Olana.

“I’m going downstairs for breakfast,” I said as calmly as I could.

Olana rubbed her belly, stepping toward me. “Oh, what a great idea. I’m starving.”

Flat-lipped, I raised my hand. “I didn’t say you were joining me.”

Her jaw dropped, and honestly, I was getting pretty tired of the innocent act she was trying to pull. “Matty, I’m pregnant. I need to eat.” She glared at me with surprise.

Olana’s hand rested on her belly, then I noticed what was on her finger. My jaw clenched, and anger coursed through my veins.

“Why are you wearing my grandmother’s ring?”

She lifted her hand, inspecting it as though she wasn’t the one to put it there. “Oh, this?” She frowned but made no attempt to take it off. “I thought it looked nice and figured it wouldn’t fit on your fingers, so what harm would it do for me to wear it?”

“It’s a family heirloom.” Why I still found myself explaining things to this woman, I’d never know, but she seemed to have that effect on me. “I plan on giving it to my daughter one day.”

Using her thumb to toy with one of the rubies, she showed no sign of removing it. “If it’s that important to you, then why were you traveling with it?”

I didn’t answer. She knew why. She knew I carried everything important to me in my bag. Thank God it was only my grandmother’s ring she found, and not my mother’s.

Holding out my hand, I said, “Olana, will you please give me my ring back?”

She looked at it one more time, then dragged her gaze back to me.

“You still haven’t gotten me a ring of my own, you know.”

This woman was delusional.

“That’s because I haven’t proposed to you.”

She grunted, rolling her eyes, and twisted the ring off. It took a while and looked like it was causing her some pain, but I kept my palm open. Still pulling, she made a show of it with no emotion, then dropped the gold ring into my hand.

---