The Heart That's Meant to Love You

Chapter 95: Delusion

Oliver wasn't the same Oliver that Naomi had known since childhood. Therefore, she doubted she could reason with him. That was the only reason that she found herself in a crumbling apartment building, locked inside one of the smaller units, with Oliver sitting across the table from her.

He still didn't frighten her—Oliver had never had that capability—but she hesitated to say or do anything that would upset his delusion. Breaking apart the world that he had carefully crafted for himself would only lead to trouble.

Thus, Naomi waited. For her chance. For a glimmer of hope. For rescue.

"The electricity isn't so good here," Oliver explained in a voice so sickeningly sweet that it made Naomi want to gag. "So you'll have to make do with ramen. I'll get us something better next time."

There would be no next time, but Naomi wouldn't say that aloud. If being quiet bought her more time to get out, she could keep silent for eternity.

Oliver scooped half of the noodles into a bowl and set it in front of Naomi. "This counts as an official date, right? Just the two of us, eating dinner together."

Of course he had fixated on what she had said to him on that night that she sent him packing. It was that obsessiveness that made Naomi hesitate to say or do anything.

Still, she deserved some answers. "Why are we here, Oliver?"

"For dinner." Oliver chuckled. "I just said that, weren't you listening?"

"Really?" Naomi leaned back in her chair and folded her arms, reticent to swallow anything that Oliver gave her. "This place is abandoned. It could crumble around us. And this is where you chose to have a date?"

"You wouldn't go to the nice places with me."

"I didn't want to come here, either."

For a moment, Naomi thought she had pushed her boundaries too far. Oliver's expression dimmed, shadowed by angry clouds. But then it cleared again.

"I know. Next time, I'll take you somewhere fancy okay?"

If she was going to push it, Naomi figured she might as well go all the way. "This is abduction."

"What? No." Oliver dished his own bowl of noodles. "Why would you think that? This is our first official date."

"You brought me here, against my will. I was forced."

"Oh, you mean all that stuff in the car? We were just teasing each other. That's what couples do, right?"

It hadn't been teasing at all. It had been coercion. But Naomi didn't dare to point that out. If Oliver saw the truth, he probably wouldn't let her out of his sight. If she wanted to run—and she did—then she needed him to trust her. Thank Heaven that her mother had always taught her to find the smart way out of any situation.

Naomi wasn't certain that Oliver hadn't put drugs or poison in the ramen, but she had a fifty-fifty chance. She needed an excuse to get up from the table later, anyway.

Cautious with every movement, Naomi sat forward and took a bite of the noodles. They were slightly overcooked, but she didn't care. Her acceptance of the food seemed to please Oliver.

"I knew you were hungry." Oliver grinned at her, like this whole thing was completely normal.

Naomi started a mental countdown. A countdown to the right time for her to start her first escape plan.

Two more bites of ramen. Oliver gave some diatribe about their future. Naomi didn't hear any of it. The countdown ticked down, down, down. Until it hit zero.

Naomi groaned softly, wrapping an arm around her stomach. She kept it subtle. Overacting wouldn't help her.

Oliver took the bait immediately, leaping up from his seat to round the table to her side. "What's wrong? What happened?"

"I think I'm gonna puke." Naomi gagged, flying her fingers to her mouth. "Bathroom."

"What?"

"Now!"

Oliver wrapped an arm around her shoulders to help her to her feet. "Come this way."

Naomi stumbled along beside him, gagging a few more times to better sell her story.

Oliver pushed open the door to a barely-there bathroom.

Naomi rushed in and slammed the door in his face. He would write it off on her panic and illness.

The tile wall was cool against her back, when she leaned against it. A momentary reprieve from the heat of her anxiety.

Then Oliver knocked on the door. "Naomi, are you okay?"

Rolling her eyes at his stupidity, Naomi made a series of heaving noises. He had to buy the story for the next part to work.

Gag, cough, whimper. Naomi reached out, flushed the toilet to cover her tracks, and then leaned over the sink and turned on the water.

"I'm coming in, then," Oliver warned.

Good thing Naomi had expected that. She bent over the sink like she could barely stand, breathing shakily and allowing her anxiety to make her limbs shake.

Oliver pulled her hair away from her face, which in itself almost made Naomi puke for real. "Hey, what's going on? Why are you sick?"

"I don't know!" Naomi forced a sob, not hard when she was at the end of her rope.

"Okay, okay. Don't cry. We'll fix this." Oliver seemed more panicky than she was, perhaps because Naomi's illness hadn't fit into his plan.

For good measure, and to throw him off his game a little more, Naomi let her legs go limp.

"Whoa, whoa, whoa!" Oliver didn't really catch her, but his attempt slowed her fall. "Are you okay? You really don't look okay. But... but I can fix this! I promise. Uh... What do we do when someone is sick?"

Wrap your brain around it, bozo, Naomi pleaded internally. It needed to be his idea. Otherwise, he would get suspicious.

"Medicine!" Oliver finally realized. "You need medicine. I don't have that here..."

Clapping a hand over her mouth, Naomi turned for the toilet again. Maybe she should have been heavy-handed from the get-go.

"But I can get some!" Oliver patted a hand against her head. The nausea that ensued helped with her acting. "I'll go get medicine, okay? Don't go anywhere."

"Not like I can," Naomi pouted at him.

Oliver's grin should mean that he believed her. He scrambled to his feet and raced out of the bathroom door. The apartment door slammed a few seconds later.

Naomi sat back, dusted herself off, and crawled to her feet as well. Oliver had always been prone to panic in emergency situations. It looked like that hadn't changed.

She gave him a solid two minutes to leave the building, and then Naomi marched to the apartment door, opened it, and strode out into the hall. She summoned the elevator with a press of a button.

The doors opened.

Oliver stared back at her, tipping his head to one side in an I-caught-you manner.

Crap. There was no way to explain it away anymore.

So Naomi turned on her heel and ran. As fast as she could. Anywhere she could go.