This Empty Love

Oliver and I didn’t talk much the next morning. I had spent the night in Tom’s old room after a day of catching up with his parents instead of him. By the time Oliver even got up the following morning, I had already showered and packed a small bag for the days I needed to. Obviously, he didn’t get the memo that people were supposed to arrive at the airport earlier than their flight was set to leave. It was nearing 11:30 a.m. but I wasn’t about to go and wake him up.

Instead, I busied myself looking around the room. It looked almost the same as when Tom occupied it, but now his giant Jager banner was gone along with his couch and random posters. One thing not missing was the big photo he’d taken and stuck on his wall of Oliver and my wedding reception. Sneaky bastard.

Finally, noises of Oliver shuffling about could be heard. The shower ran for a couple of minutes before the sound was replaced with silence, then a door opening and closing. Moments later, he walked up the few steps to Tom’s attic room.

Oli drummed his knuckles against the door. “Yeh up?”

I stood and walked to the door before opening it. Oliver’s hair was wet, clinging to his face and neck like perfection. He smelled of aftershave and toothpaste; a combination on him that could drive me crazy. I couldn’t think it enough, but I wish this situation could happen under different circumstances because I would probably jump his bones.

“Tom and Matt are pickin’ us up, they’ll be ‘ere in a bit.” He explained, rubbing the back of his neck.

I nodded, unintentionally making this situation more awkward. I cleared my throat and glanced around. “So I’ll grab my shit and meet you downstairs.”

Oliver also nodded and disappeared back into his room before anything else could be said. It never ceased to surprise me how weird we could act around each other after so long of being together.

Thirty minutes later Tom was dropping Oliver and me off at the airport and wishing us luck. Matt had pretty much kept to himself the whole time, not wanting to choose a side in the issue. I can’t say I blame him. Unlike Tom, at least he wasn’t prying.

Today, the airport was a zoo. It was full of people. All the security gates were crowded and moving along slowly. I was going to mention something to Oliver along the lines of “we should have gotten here earlier,” but I bit my tongue. The last thing we needed was another fight.

“I hate this part,” I muttered in the direction of Oliver while I slid off my shoes. The metal detector made me uncomfortable.

Oliver and I passed through security with ease. Now, we had to face the crowd again. I never did like being in groups of people, especially not when I had somewhere to be. I was beginning to feel uncomfortable. That panicky feeling of not knowing where I was going or which side of me Oli was on was starting to wash over me.

“Taylor,” I heard Oliver called my name and turned my head in the direction.

My eyes connected with his while he reacted out for me and grasped my hand. The contact surprised me but I embraced it, letting him rescue me from the chaos and lead me towards one of the loading gates. As we neared Gate 6 in Terminal B, I felt Oliver’s grip start to loosen and soon his hand was leaving mine.

I didn’t want the contact to be gone. Smoothly, my palm followed his and reconnected to his hand. He glanced over at me, shooting me a confused look but brushed it off with the blink of his eyes. Even if he was completely put off by holding my hand, he didn’t show any more opinion on it past the confusion.

“They’re already loading the plane,” Oliver stated.

As we approached the tunnel, I finally let Oliver have his hand back. He didn’t seem to notice, or just didn’t let it show. Hiding his feelings wouldn’t help anything right now but I couldn’t bring myself to say my thoughts out loud.

The flight was awkward. No, it was more than awkward. The one-hour flight was only full of occasional small talk and uncomfortable elbow bumping. Oliver sat there and pretended not notice how much this frustrated me. Sitting next to a stranger would have been less painful than this. At least it was only an hour.

“I can’t even remember the last time I was in London,” I said, more to myself than Oliver.

He replied anyways. “It was a few months before the wedding. I took yeh shopping.”

I hid the small smile that was threatening to take over my face. Oliver wouldn’t have noticed it anyways. After replying, he busied himself and flagged down a taxi.

“Yeh look completely knackered.” Oliver commented once we were inside the hotel room. There were two beds, sadly, and I picked the nearest to collapse on. It was only about 2:30 p.m. “Do yeh want to sleep while I go deal with the Drop Dead stuff?”

“Uhm, yeah. That would probably be better. I’m so jetlagged at the moment,” I replied honestly.

Oliver nodded and set his bags down on one of the bed and started digging through it. He placed a wallet in his back pocket and pulled on one of his Drop Dead jackets. I seized this as the perfect moment to slip out of my jeans and take more time than needed to find my pajama pants. When I was done, Oliver was looking at me. His face showed no expression, but he was definitely eyeing me up and down.

“I’ll probably be back ‘round five. If yeh want, maybe we could go to dinner tonight?” He asked, more as a question. It was as if he was unsure.

I smiled softly. “That sounds really good, actually.”

“Right, well I should get goin’. I’ll text before I leave so you’ll know,” Oliver said and headed for the door. He back tracked after passing me and grazed his lips over my cheek in a foreign gesture of affection.

&&

“Taylor, wake up.”

I groaned and rolled away from the voice interrupting my sleep. I felt a hand rub up my back, warm through the fabric of my tank top. Instantly, I wanted the hand and the rest of the person’s arm completely around me. My back arched towards the heat as the hand moved to my lower back again in one, soothing motion.

“Do yeh still want to go to dinner, or do yeh just want to sleep?” Oliver’s voice was finally clear to me, but so was the fact that his hand was still on my back.

“Dinner sounds good,” I replied, my voice groggy and tired.

I rolled onto my back and covered my eyes. I only peaked out once to see Oliver’s amused face leaning over me. He already changed into a new pair of jeans and fresh v-neck that showed off the coffin on his chest.

“Give me like ten minutes,” I said. Getting up required me to slide away from both the warmth of the bed and Oliver’s hand.

He simply nodded and sat down on the second bed, crossing one leg over the other. I didn’t care that he was watching me while I quickly changed. Sure, I probably didn’t look very attractive while in a rush, but the fact he was still interested in my half naked body was reassuring.

The last thing I did was brush my hair and fix my make-up before Oliver and I left the hotel room. We flagged down another taxi and Oli recited the address for a restaurant I had never heard of. Like the flight, the drive went by quietly and uneventfully.

“So have yeh talked to the Doc recently?” Oliver asked between bites of his vegetarian lasagna.

I chewed and swallowed my food before responding. “Yeah, actually, he helped me decide whether or not to fly over here. Have you?”

“I called the night yeh got ‘ere. He had a lot of tips, I guess yeh could say,” he said. I raised my eyebrows. “Well dinner was suggestion. He also mentioned watching a film, goin’ to a show, sex, and revisiting places we’ve gone before.”

Oliver didn’t realize that just because he stuck sex in the middle of the list meant I wouldn’t catch it. No matter how nonchalant something was said, sex could never be overlooked.

“I guess the whole sex thing doesn’t really surprise me. Owens seems really adamant on making that happen between us,” I replied.

“So are yeh,” Oliver mumbled. He was referring to the night I “coaxed” him into having sex.

“I didn’t hear any complaints about that one,” I responded and looked at him through my lashes. I was now on my third glass of wine and not afraid to let it show.

He tried to stop it, but a cheeky smiled found its way onto his lips. Soon he was grinning and shaking his head at me. “That yeh didn’t.”

Was this getting along I sensed? I hoped so. Nothing would be worse than yet another awkward cab ride home.

“I say we ring him when we get back to the room, see what advice awaits us,” he suggested.

“I might need another glass if I’m going to hear what he has to say,” I said.

Oliver agreed and clinked his glass to mine, a soft “aye” slipping through his lips. After that, conversation was little to none, but we were now in that state where silence is comfortable. Between the wine and the future phone call to Dr. Owens, I felt like something might end up going wrong.