Page 57 of The Shift Between Us (Covewood #2)

Chapter Twenty-Eight

Olivia

“ G ood morn— What happened in here?” Raine exclaims as the front door shuts behind her.

I turn around to face her, still whisking away my coconut-cream icing, and attempt to give her a smile in greeting, but it falls short.

“I’ll Be Home for Christmas” is playing in the background, along with the sound of my mixer working on the batter for my blueberry-banana bread.

Buttercream gives Raine a little meow in greeting from his favorite place on my couch.

“My goodness! Did you have a lot of Christmas orders at the last minute?” she asks, placing her bag down on the floor and quickly grabbing one of my aprons. She wraps it around her waist, her eyes assessing the mess in my kitchen, and furrows her brows in determination. “What can I do?”

Raine’s been busy the last few days with trying to catch up on her work before Christmas is here, so I haven’t got to fill her in on everything that happened with Luke.

I’m assuming with the way her brows are furrowed together that no one else has filled her in either.

Not being able to talk things through with her has really been weighing me down.

I sniffle as tears begin to blur my vision, and once Raine notices, she rushes over to me. “Liv, what’s wrong?”

Doesn’t she know that you never ask someone what’s wrong when they’re trying to hold everything together? The fact that she asks this right as Mariah Carey starts singing “All I Want for Christmas Is You” and images of me singing this song to Luke just days ago pop up almost sends me to my knees.

He’s ruined music for me.

Raine rushes to me, takes the bowl that’s in my hands, and sets it down onto the countertop before wrapping her arms around me.

I lean into her embrace, welcoming her comfort and warmth as I let go of the emotions I’ve desperately been trying to hold back.

She doesn’t say anything, because what could she possibly say when she doesn’t know what’s going on?

Having her here, holding me like this, is more than I could’ve asked for.

After my sobs slow down, she releases me so she can turn around and shut off my mixer.

She takes my hand into hers and leads us to my couch.

Once we sit, she waits patiently for me to explain everything to her.

And I do. The words tumble out of me so quickly as I fill her in on every detail from the weekend up until the last words Luke said to me four nights ago.

Fake dating Luke cracked something open in me—something I had sealed shut.

It revealed to me what a relationship could be like with him.

I could travel the world in search of someone who might make me feel even a fraction of how Luke does, and I know I’d come up empty-handed.

There is no one else my heart could ever beat for.

He’s ruined me.

Knowing that I love him doesn’t make the ache go away. It doesn’t soften the sharp edge of betrayal. For eleven years, he carried something that could have changed everything, and he chose silence. What else don’t I know? What other versions of Luke have I not met ?

I keep replaying his voice in my head, the way it cracked when he told me the truth, like he was breaking too. He acted as if it had cost him something to finally say the words out loud, but why now? Why not years ago, when it could’ve made a difference?

The worst part is, I can still hear the pain in his voice and how he wouldn’t look at me, acting as if he already knew he’d lost me. A part of me still wants to reach for him, and I know this hurts him too, but I don’t know how to comfort him when he’s the reason I’m hurting as well.

It’s exhausting, loving someone and resenting them in the same breath. It’s like standing in a burning house, knowing he struck the match but still wishing he’d be the one to save me.

“The trip was supposed to be about spending time with Luke and his family, not about working through a laundry list of emotions I had tucked away to never feel again,” I admit, running a hand down my face.

Raine gives me a look of understanding. “When I came back to Covewood, it wasn’t supposed to reopen old wounds, but that's exactly what it did. Coming from someone who spent a decade running away from her problems, we both know it’s not the best way to deal with pent-up emotions.

After confronting my past and learning how to forgive, look at what God has blessed me with. ”

“Ryland and you have a different story, though,” I add, giving Buttercream a small pat on the head, happy that he lets me give him affection now—only in small doses, apparently, as he runs off into my bedroom.

“Yeah, you’re right. And everything that’s happened is meant to be a part of your and Luke’s story, both individually and together,” Raine says, reaching over, taking my hand into hers, and giving it a gentle squeeze.

“Sometimes, the closer you are to something, the harder it is to see it. Luke loves you. He always has. I know you’ve always loved him too, even if you've tried to suppress it. ”

I know she’s right. It seems as if my heart hasn’t gotten the memo that it’s supposed to be mad at him.

It still skips when I think of his smile.

It still aches with the want of him. I don’t know how to look him in the eye and say, What you did hurt me, but I still choose you.

I don’t know if I’m ready to trust him again, but I know that I want to try.

That has to count for something, doesn’t it?

“You both deserve to be together—for real this time,” she adds.

I open my mouth to reply, but my words are cut short when my front door swings open, and for a split second, my heart jumps into my throat because I think it’s Luke. But then Edna waltzes in like a woman on a mission.

She sees Raine and me on the couch and then looks at the current state of my kitchen before she slams the door shut and places her hands onto her hips.

“Olivia! This has gotten out of hand!” She tsks , waving a hand dramatically in the air, before she rushes over and sits down on the ottoman in front of us. “Stop stress-baking and fake a break-in like a normal woman, and get your cop over here.”

“I don’t think faking a break-in is the way—” Raine starts to protest, but I cut her off.

“It’s fine. I’ve done it before.”

“So all of that…” Raine says, pointing a finger toward the mess in my kitchen, “is because you’ve been distracting yourself with baking instead of facing your problems? Not because you had last-minute orders?”

“I mean, some of it is orders.” I shrug my shoulders, a blush heating my cheeks.

Edna stands up and studies a tray of scones. “Can I eat these?”

“No.” I rush into the kitchen and swat at her hands. “The scones, biscuits, and muffins are going to The Groovy Bean today.”

Edna reaches over and shoves a bite of blackberry-lavender-and-white-chocolate scone into her mouth.

“That’s what you get for hitting an old lady,” is what I assume she says through her mouthful.

She hums in approval, and before she can snatch another one, I pull the tray away and set it onto the only clear space on my counter.

“You’re so sassy when you’re hangry,” I snap at her.

“I’m only hangry because you’ve been hoarding all of this from me.”

Raine laughs as she begins rounding up all my empty dishes.

“Here, you earned a piece of my cinnamon bread,” I say to Raine.

“Thanks.” She smiles as I place a piece in front of her, and she takes a bite. “Hmm…so good.”

“Why does she get one?” Edna pouts, and I’d tell her she’s adorable if I knew it wouldn’t go to her head.

“Because she’s actually helping me.”

Edna scoffs, tossing both hands in the air, and says, “I’ve aged out of helping.”

Raine and I share a knowing look before I start packaging the goodies for the coffee shop. I hand Edna a whole loaf of cinnamon bread, because even though she likes to drive me crazy, I always make sure to feed her. It’s my love language.

“Since Raine is here to make sure you get your head back on straight, I have a book club to prepare for. Do you have the?—”

“Swirled blueberry-lemon-thyme cake. It’s right here.” I reach into the fridge and hand the cake to her.

“Thank you. Oh, and Raine, tell that future hubby of yours and his crew that they’re welcome to come renovate my old house anytime, as long as you don’t mind me staring at their perfect?—”

“Edna, you have no chill, do you?”

“None whatsoever. Ta-ta, ladies.” Just as quickly as she entered our presence, she’s gone .

Raine peers over at me with her arms covered in bubbles at my sink. “How do you put up with that woman being your neighbor?”

“Some would think that therapy would be the answer, but I’ve found that screaming at the top of my lungs for ten seconds does the trick.”

She barks out a laugh, but it’s cut short from the sound of her phone ringing. Her smile slips as she studies the name that appears on her screen.

“It’s Luke.”

My heart drops, and all my senses are amplified.

I can feel the heat kicking on, blowing against my feet from the vents.

The lights seem brighter, flaring at the edges of my vision, as I stare at Raine.

I perk up my ears to listen in on their conversation, but she holds up a finger and moves into the living room.

Something sharp twists low in my stomach. It’s not jealousy but the fact that he chose not to call me. After everything, I thought the next move should be his. I don’t know if I’m hurt or relieved. Honestly, it could be both.

What does it say that he’d rather talk to Raine? That he couldn’t even try me first? Part of me wants to believe he’s afraid I wouldn’t answer or that he’s giving me space.

“Hey.”

She’s quiet for a moment, her face paling as she nods and hums to whatever Luke is saying, and her eyes look over at me. I’m about to mouth ‘ What? ’ to her, but she looks down at the floor and shifts on her heels.

“I’m so sorry. Are you okay?” she finally says before she returns to her hums and nods. “Is there anything I can do? Yes, of course. Yeah, okay. Yeah. I will. I love you too.”

She ends the phone call and covers her mouth with her hand before letting out a shuddered breath. “What is it?” I ask, already walking toward her. She blinks a few times, lost in thought, before she looks up at me.

Her voice is strained as she says, “Davis passed away. Luke arrived at his grandma’s late last night and said they’re having a funeral for him this evening.”

“He’s at Nonni’s and just now told you?”

I look down at my phone and wait for it to light up with his name, but it never does. The news hits like ice water, numbing and impossible to process. His dad is...gone. After everything.

I should be thinking of him, of his loss, and I am. But there’s this ache I hate myself for that wonders why he couldn’t say the words to me. I want to be angry. I want to feel justified in my hurt, but all of that disappears beneath the weight of his grief.

He lost his dad, and no matter what passed between us, I know exactly where I need to be. I need to be standing by his side, even if he didn’t ask for me, even if I’m not sure he wants me there, because this isn’t about our fight or what he did or didn’t say.

This is about love. The kind that doesn’t back down just because it’s bruised.

My phone buzzes.

Luke

I just wanted to let you know that my dad passed away yesterday

Not a call. Just a text. No punctuation. No “I’m sorry” or “I need you” or even “Can you come?” Just a few clipped words from a person I know has to be quietly falling apart.

I stare at the screen like it might change. Maybe if I read it enough times, I’ll find something more beneath it, some hidden plea for me to follow, but it’s just silence.

And I can’t sit here and let him go through this alone—not when I’ve loved him for too long, even when I tried not to. This isn’t about what he should’ve done. It’s about what I will do, because I’m going, whether he asked or not.

“Yeah. He apologized and said that he kinda lost track of everything. I’m going to go get my things and head that way,” Raine states right as her phone buzzes. “That’s the address.”

“Wait!” I shout, rushing into my bedroom as I holler back at her, “I’m coming with you.”