Dancer's Body

Chapter 19

She was halfway through a pint of gelato when the sharp knock came at her door. Please don't let it be Roman, she thought to herself. That's ridiculous.

Olivia scurried to the door, tossing the pint onto the kitchen counter along the way. "Wyatt!" she said. He leaned against the door casually, like he always popped over unannounced.

"Good, you're here," he said. "I wasn't sure if you had your internship today. I tried to call, but—"

"Yeah, sorry, my phone died," she said. "And, uh, I couldn't find the charger." She didn't want to tell him it really was her stupid attempt to stop the world from unraveling further.

He just nodded. "So, uh, I've thought about it," he said. "I'm sorry if I freaked out about the photo. I mean, it still sucks. Some people at PHSU have already seen it ... "

"God, Wyatt, I'm so sorry."

"I know," he said. "And I know nothing happened between you and that guy."

She looked down, shame cascading over her. I can't even say that's true anymore.

"But, you know, it doesn't look good," he said. "Can I come in?"

"Oh, yeah, sure. Sorry," she said, moving to the side of the doorway.

She sat on the couch, and he paced in front of her. "I'm just happy my parents haven't heard about it. And I doubt they will. It seems largely contained to the area."

She nodded, wanting to apologize again but aware that it would start to sound fake.

"I hope you think of this as preparation for the future," he said.

"What do you mean?"

"I mean you can't just put yourself in these precarious situations and assume everything will work out. There are some fucked up people out there, ready to jump at the chance to make you look bad. Especially when you're going to be in, well, such a revered position."

"A dancer?" she asked. She hadn't realized he'd thought of her career aspirations like that. Maybe he really is coming around. Yet she could still taste Roman on her lips.

He gave a short laugh. "No! You're funny. I mean as a doctor's wife."

She sighed. This again? "Wyatt—"

He dropped to one knee and the world stopped moving. Stop it, stop it, stop it.

"Olivia," he started.

No, no, no.

Wyatt pulled out a black velvet box and presented it to her. Inside was a pear-shaped diamond with a thick yellow gold band. "It was my grandmother's," he said.

"Oh, my God."

"Take it," he said, shoving the box at her.

"I can't."

"You don't have to answer right away," he said. "But I want you to have it. How about one week?"

"What?"

"What about you give me an answer in one week?"

"Uhm ..."

"Just say okay." He looked at her wildly, and she could sense the rage that boiled just under the surface.

"Okay," she said.

"Good girl!" She cringed at the words, the pairing that got her so hot when Roman said it to her.