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There was a boom so loud that Olive wondered if she was finally experiencing her first earthquake. They were close to San Francisco, and it had never happened despite multiple warnings. Maybe there was a gas leak, and something horrible happened nearby. Or perhaps she was tired enough that she made up the way her bench shook in her head.
She padded into the hallway just in time to hear someone shout for help. There were confused glances amongst the masses, but all Olive could see was the door that the student stumbled out of. Her vision narrowed, zeroing in on the door in question.
It was Adam’s lab.
She sprinted toward it, ordering the student to sit down, then barked at Dr. Aslan to help them, using Aysegul instead. She didn’t even care if she would get in trouble for it later, authority figure be damned. She needed her attention, and needed it quickly. Shattered glass littered the floor of Adam’s lab, as did several pieces of equipment.
Her world tilted to a halt when she saw Adam lying on the ground, a small pool of blood forming at his head. She was sure the entire department heard her say his name as she knelt before him. His eyelids fluttered, but he couldn’t seem to keep them open.
“I need to get up,” he mumbled. Olive cupped his jaw, words she had never used in her life spilling out of her.
“Adam? Honey—baby. Can you hear me?”
He hummed, but nothing more.
“You!” She snapped. “Did you call 9-1-1?”
They nodded, frozen in place.
“It’s my fault,” he mumbled.
Olive didn’t know if that was true, nor did she care right now. She could absolutely see Adam putting himself in harm’s way to help his students, no matter what everyone thought about him. He was fiercely protective.
“Get out. Go to the hallway.”
When they didn’t move, she shouted at them for a second time, doing her best to sweep away shards of glass so Adam wouldn’t cut himself. She was too worried about his neck to move him into a recovery position. He was breathing, and his pulse was fine, which was all that was keeping Olive sane.
“Now!”
They left, as another person strode in.
“What happened? Where’s Adam?”
It was Holden. She didn’t want him to see Adam like this.
“Holden, go back—”
“Oh, god.” Holden went pale, propping himself against the blacktop. “Blood. I’ll be fine. Just give me a moment.”
“Sit down. I don’t want you falling on glass.”
“Yup.”
She couldn’t stop herself from saying Adam’s name over and over, smoothing his hair back. She wished so badly that she could wrap him in a blanket or bubble wrap and place him in her pocket for safekeeping. He was too precious to her.
“The paramedics are here. What’s going on? How can I—oh.” Dr. McCoy paused a foot away from Olive. “Olive, you shouldn’t be here—”
“I’m not going anywhere.”
“You need to let them help Dr. Carlsen.”
Her blood pressure spiked. “I am not leaving Adam.”
There was commotion as the paramedics swept in, assessing Adam and taking him away on the gurney, with Olive trailing after. Dr. McCoy tried to stop her, but there was no use—Olive had a one-track mind.
She needed to be with her love.
“Ma’am, we need you to step back.”
“I’m coming with you.”
“Family only.”
Family. Only.
Family.
Olive wanted to laugh in his face. If only the paramedic knew what Adam’s family was like, or the fact that he was her family. But in the eyes of the law, their bond wasn’t enough.
“I’m his…his—his fiancée.”
The entire department went quiet. She could see her friend’s wide eyes and the way they covered their mouths. Holden looked groggy, but he nodded.
“Yup!” He said, waving his left hand and pointing to the ring finger. “Olive is Adam’s…yep. I’m the best man.”
“Holden,” Dr. McCoy chastised.
She doubled down. “I’m his fiancée.”
“You don’t have a ring on.”
“It’s against health and safety,” Anh said quickly. “No rings allowed. They make out all the time. I’m Olive’s best friend. They’re totally getting married. I’m maid of honor and everything.”
Anh, sweet and perfect, Anh, who never lied to anyone, was lying her way through helping Olive. She would give her the biggest hug later. The dean was rubbing her forehead.
She shoved her phone screen in the paramedic’s face, showing a selfie they took in Boston. Olive waited with bated breath.
“You can come, but the hospital will make you leave if they find out you’re lying.”
That was good enough for Olive.
“Who are you again?”
“I’m his fiancée,” Olive lied for the fiftieth time. She even pulled out her phone again to show photos of her and Adam. Ones that she forced him to take during their non-Sushi date. That worked on the paramedics, anyway. She had said those three words so many times, Olive wondered if she could will them into existence.
“Well, ma’am, in layman’s terms, your fiancé took a pretty nasty blow to the head. Regarding his head scans, there’s nothing to be concerned about. There was blood loss, of course, but any head wound will do that. Sometimes they look worse than they are.
“He had a concussion, so we’re monitoring him until he wakes up, but he should be cleared to go home soon after, assuming all continues to go well. His vitals are stable, but I suspect he’ll have a headache for a few days, and he will need to be monitored, of course. We won’t know if there are any long or short-term effects on memory until he wakes. He has a few staples and stitches where the wound is, but you won’t be able to see a scar with that mop of hair he has unless he decides to start sporting a buzz cut. Any questions?”
“No. Thank you.” Her voice was hoarse. All she wanted was not to be forced to leave this spot. She’d sit in the room’s chair, holding his hand happily, until he woke.
The doctor frowned. “You don’t want to know when he’s going to wake up?”
The doctor was trying to find a crack in her façade, but Olive wouldn’t let him.
“You don’t know. My mom had pancreatic cancer. She passed quickly, but most of the situations during our last few months together were like this. I’ve…hospitals are familiar territory for me,” she said with a tight smile. “Things like this and waking up from anesthesia happen on the body’s time. Unless there have been advancements I’m not aware of…?”
He softened. “No. You are correct. I’m sorry about your mother, but congratulations to you and Mr. Carlsen. I can tell he’s in good hands. Please have the nurses page me if you need anything.”
“Thank you, Dr. Kitch.”
She knew Adam wouldn’t be able to tell, but Olive couldn’t stop herself from smoothing out his blankets and straightening his pillow. He looked tired, but peaceful. Olive pressed a kiss to his forehead, like he had done to her when they last saw each other.
“I miss you,” she whispered. “When you wake up, I’m going to tell you that, and how much I love you. And how angry I am that you’re hurt right now. The effectiveness of wound healing declines with age. It was reckless of you to…to do whatever you did.”
She rested her head on his bed, caressing his hand. Olive refused to let it go.
“I’ll tell you all about Boston, too. I promise I’ll visit as much as I can. Dr. Wiley is nice. I think you’d really like her.”
She hated how heavy and lifeless his hand was in hers. Olive heard what the doctor had said, but that didn’t stop the fear and anxiety from creeping in. She had been in this spot time and time again with her mom before ultimately being left alone.
“I’ll make you broccoli when we’re home, and even drink a black coffee with you. Just once, for the coffee. It’s disgusting, and I don’t know how you stomach it every day, but I love you anyway.”
Everything else seemed futile now. All the lies and deceit of September. Letting Tom have the high hand. Losing Adam for something so juvenile, when she could have lost him for real, without having the chance to tell him that she loved him.
“Adam Carlsen, my love. Who would have thought?”
The steady beep of his monitors was making her restless, but Olive would be patient for Adam. He had been so patient with her, after all. She moved to the bathroom, grabbing washcloths and dampening them with warm water. She cleaned his face and hair the best she could, wanting him to feel as best as the situation allowed when he woke.
“Who is she?” Adam asked, staring at where Olive held his hand.
The nurse looked at him, scrunching her brow. “This is your fiancée.”
Adam stared at Olive, not an ounce of comprehension in his gaze. She was a stranger to him. He seemed intrigued, like he wanted to know her.
“I’m engaged?”
“Do you know this woman?” The nurse tried again. She and Dr. Kitch shared a glance.
“I…no. We have never met. I would remember.”
Olive watched as Dr. Kitch scribbled down something about memory loss on his legal pad. Adam didn’t remember her, and Olive wasted the time he did. She didn’t even tell him how much she loved him or tell him the truth about Tom, and now she likely wouldn’t get the chance. Tom would take advantage of Adam’s vulnerability.
Olive jolted awake, rubbing her eyes. Adam was still fast asleep, his heart beating steadily on the monitor.
“Nightmares. Lovely.”
She hadn’t had those since she was a teenager. Olive stood to kiss his cheeks and forehead again when the door swung back open. It was the nurse she spoke with earlier, accompanied by a second nurse she hadn’t met.
“That her?”
“The fiancée,” the first nurse nodded.
“Ms. Smith,” the second nurse sighed. “We’re going to need to ask you to be reasonable here. It has come to our attention that you and Mr. Carlsen are not engaged. We can only allow family in his room, so we are going to need you to leave. When he wakes, if he approves, you will be allowed in during visitation hours.”
“Please. Please let me stay. He’s my—” Nothing, Olive. He’s your nothing because you never said anything. “He’s going to wake up alone. I love him, and—”
“And that’s very sweet, but you ain’t his family, hun,” the second nurse said.
“Please don’t make us call security,” the first nurse begged. “They won’t let you back at all if we have to do that, baby.”
Olive crumpled. “I’m not leaving. I’ll wait in the lobby, but I’m not leaving.”
Adam’s entire body hurt. His eyelids were heavy, and his head was pounding. He couldn’t ignore the dryness in his throat, but it was overruled by confusion. Where on Earth was he?
Beep.
Beep.
Beep.
Heart rate monitor. Hospital gown. IV—IV. Nausea hit him. Needles. Disgusting. He was in a hospital room. He had been at work when—
“Fuck. Joel.”
Adam straightened, looking around, wanting to ask if Joel was okay, but Adam was alone. Not even a nurse was in his room. He should have expected it, but the punch to his gut hurt more than the pounding in his head.
Not even Holden was here. It made sense, given the circumstances. Holden was with Malcolm now, and Adam was happy they had met each other. He always knew Holden’s priorities would change when he finally found his person. But Olive…
He closed his eyes, focusing on the pain in his side. It was less painful than the hole in his heart. God, he missed her. Being without Olive since September 29th had felt like being without air. He would have done anything to have her here. The thought of waking up with Olive next to him was nothing more than a fantasy, and Adam would do well to remember that. He had his month in wonderland. He didn’t get more.
Adam stabbed at the nurse’s button. Moments later, the door swung open.
“Mr. Carlsen, good to see you up and awake.”
Adam nodded politely. She didn’t deserve his bad mood. She was just doing her job. “Hello. Is there any way I could have—”
“Oh, your poor voice. Let me get you some water and ice chips. Small sips, understood?”
He nodded. “Thanks.”
The cool ice sliding down his throat was heavenly. He did whatever the nurse asked, allowing her to check his vitals and anything else she wanted.
“Is Joel okay?”
“Joel?” she frowned.
“My student. There was an incident at work.”
“You were the only injury reported,” she said kindly.
At least there was that.
“Your blood pressure is a little high, but other than that, your vitals seem fine. How are you feeling, darlin’?”
Adam was unsurprised about his blood pressure, given how hard he was trying to stay calm right now. To not breakdown in front of this woman.
“Great,” he lied. His physical injuries would heal. They were easier to deal with than the emotional ones. He hardly cared about the staples.
“You’re a bad liar, but that’s okay. Is it because you’re alone?”
“I’m fine,” he insisted. He would keel over before he talked to her about waking up to an empty room. It was what he deserved, in the end.
“Well, your friend tried to check in on you, but he wasn’t family, so we couldn’t allow him in. And then there was your alleged fiancée. That girl was a firecracker.”
He choked on his water, coughing out the words before he could catch his breath. “M-my what?”
“Your fake fiancée. She had us convinced for a while there. Great liar, unlike you. Had photos and everything. I ain’t never seen someone fuss over another person the way she was fussin’ over you without them being family or in love. But your colleague spilled the beans, and we had to make her leave. She was set on staying, though, I’m telling you. I begged her not to make me call security.”
Adam wanted to be embarassed by the way his heart soared in his chest and on the monitor, but all he could think was: fake fiancée. It could only be one person.
“Olive? Olive was here?”
“So you do know her. Interesting. We started betting on whether she was a stalker, and it was Photoshop. I’m currently team endgame.”
“Yes. She’s my—” Nothing, technically. Olive was his nothing. His soulmate, and yet, she was his nothing.
“That’s about as far as she got when the truth came out,” she tutted. “Communication is key in a relationship, you know. Can’t survive without it.”
His eyes narrowed. “Colleague. Which one?”
“Um…”
“I bet it was McCoy,” he snapped.
“That sounds familiar. Mc-something,” she nodded. “More like McSnitch, though, baby. Called the nurse’s station and everything. Wouldn’t hang up until we addressed the situation.”
Fucking McCoy.
“But she was here? Olive was here.”
“She didn’t leave your side until forced. I’m not sure if she was lying, but she did say she wouldn’t leave the hospital. She said she’d stay in the waiting room, I think. But that was hours ago now. Want me to…?”
“Please. If she’s still here…” he nodded. “She’s more than welcome to stay, regardless of visitation hours.”
“Maybe she should be your fiancée,” the nurse quipped. “Be back in a mo’.”
Adam held his breath, not wanting to hope, but also unable to stop himself. He was tense, his eyes twitching toward the door. She probably left. It was fine. He’d rather her be comfortable at home than in a shitty hospital waiting room chair anyway. The fact that she had even been here meant the world to Adam.
Except when the door opened to showcase a tired, worried Olive Smith rushing toward him, his heart soared, nearly knocking the breath from his lungs.
“Let me know if you need anything else,” the nurse said, shutting the door behind her.
Olive’s eyes darted to his, moving to cup his jaw. He had never felt anything better, shifting his head to kiss her palm. He should have asked first, but Olive was pulling him close, kissing his forehead.
“They made me leave.”
God, the waver in her voice, and the fact that she was upset for him.
“I wanted to be here, I swear. When I found you in your lab…” she pursed her lips. “Holden almost passed out. You’re quite the pair.”
“He hates blood.”
“And you hate needles,” she said, her thumb tracing where the IV was. “Are you okay? Do you need anything?”
She was already standing, getting him more ice chips and fixing his pillow. She still had blood on her clothes.
“Did you stay here all night?”
Olive scowled. “Of course. They made me leave your room, but I refused to leave the hospital. I wasn’t leaving you.”
Adam tugged her sleeve, patting the side of his bed. The nurses would probably be angry, but he hardly cared. Olive was here. But before she could clamber in next to him, the door opened again. Her grip on his gown tightened.
“They said I was allowed to be in here,” she warned. Adam chuckled, as did the doctor. His eyes zeroed in on where Adam held Olive.
“Adam, nice to meet you. I heard you were awake, so I thought I’d come check on things. I see Olive is back. If all goes well, you should be allowed to head home.”
“Thanks.”
“You’ll need to be monitored, of course. You didn’t have an emergency contact listed. Who will be taking you home?”
“Me. I’m taking care of Adam.”
His heart swelled ten sizes, he was sure of it. The doctor tried and failed to keep his smile even.
“Mr. Carlsen, who will be taking you home?”
Olive scowled behind him.
“Olive.”
“For better or for worse,” she said, crossing her arms.
“We’ll note that in your chart and go over aftercare with you, Olive. Will you be taking Adam to your house, or his?”
“His.”
After two more hours, Adam was on his way home. Holden dropped off his Prius, texting Adam nonstop since he told Holden he was okay. He didn’t have the energy to respond.
“Do you know how to drive?”
“I said I don’t have a car. Not that I can’t drive one.”
“Right. Why are we still sitting here, then?”
“I’m not very good with directions,” she flushed. “I was pulling up Google Maps. I’ve never been to the hospital before.”
“I can tell you.”
“No,” she barked. “You should be resting. No more thinking. You need to let your brain heal.”
“It’s second nature. Turn right on this road.”
Olive grumbled, ultimately doing as she was told. Adam placed his hand on her thigh before he lost his nerve. Despite the three staples and two stitches, he had never felt better.
“How long have we been engaged?”
“Hmm?”
“The nurse said you were my fiancée,” he smiled.
“I thought it was time to take things to the next level,” she said lightly.
“You can move in next. I need twenty-four-hour care now.”
“Your very own live-in nursing assistant. How very geriatric of you.”
“I am thirty-four,” he agreed. “It’s getting up there.”
He didn’t comment on her crooked parking. He would fix it later when he readjusted his seats. Adam took her hand, letting her lead him into his house. She pressed down on his shoulders when they reached the couch.
“Sit.”
“Yes, ma’am.”
His eyes fluttered closed as she cupped his jaw again, kissing his forehead for a second time.
“I’ve missed you. I promised I’d tell you that when you woke up.”
Adam pressed his forehead against her stomach, holding her hips. He would take the accident ten times over if that meant getting to this moment. Olive missed him.
“I’ve missed you, too.”
“You have to do everything I tell you for the next twenty-four hours, okay? No complaining.”
He nodded, settling into the cushions. Olive made herself comfortable in the kitchen, placing a glass of water on the side table.
“Small sips, and rest. No screen time. I’ll get you a book if you want one.”
Adam told her not to bother, closing his eyes and admitting defeat. He heard the sounds of Olive cooking something before sleep took him under.
“I’m not used to being taken care of,” he yawned. “I can’t believe you made me vegetables.”
“I promised I’d eat broccoli with you when you were sleeping, too.”
“What else did you promise?”
“Maybe tomorrow, when I’m not as worried about your head. You’re allowed to shower tomorrow, too. You can shower now, but you can’t get your head wet.”
“Perhaps you should have been CEO of a fancy corporation.”
“Lady Boss, at your service,” she grinned.
Adam’s front door opened, revealing Holden and Malcolm.
“Hey, Holden.”
“You haven’t texted me back, you little fucker.”
“I thought I was your little shit.” Adam clutched his chest. “I fell asleep. I’m sorry.”
“He’s fine, I promise,” Olive assured him.
“Hey, Malcolm.”
“Dr. Carlsen.”
“Adam, please.”
“Good to see you on the mend,” Malcolm said politely. Olive knew he was weirded out by being here. His ping-ponging eyes said as much.
“Olive made me vegetables. Can you believe it?”
“I also made rice that had mushrooms in it and chicken.”
“True, but you willingly ate something green.”
“The entire department thinks you’re engaged, by the way,” Malcolm said. “Or fucking. Depends on the person.”
“Let them,” Olive shrugged, carving a space in Adam’s side. She’d be happy for either of those scenarios to be true.
“Fucking McCoy called and had the nurses kick Olive out,” Adam scowled. “The nurse called her McSnitch.”
“Now what?” Holden asked, assessing Adam’s head.
“He needs to be monitored tonight, but Dr. Kitch felt positive about his prognosis. He should be fine by tomorrow, but he’ll need to take it easy. Nothing too strenuous,” Olive said.
“Noted,” Holden said.
“I asked the nurse, but she said I was the only one injured. Is Joel okay?”
“He’s shaken up, but he’s fine.”
“Good.” Adam closed his eyes, resting back on the couch. Olive tossed a blanket over their legs.
“I’ll let you rest. I wanted to make sure you didn’t need anything. Olive, since Adam is unwilling to use his hands and fingers, please text or call me at any time. I’ll have Malcolm text my number to you.”
“I feel like I should get a pass today for being bad with my phone.”
Holden snorted, bending to hug Adam. Not one of those ridiculous bro-hugs, a Holden hug. “And what about every other day of the year?”
“Love you too, Holden.”
Adam slept like the dead. They had slept together before, of course, but every time Olive woke the night of the 28th, Adam was already awake. Now, he was still and silent. It was unnerving to see someone that immobile. She hovered over him, trying to see if he was breathing.
A warm palm jutted forward, pulling her flush against him.
“Go to sleep,” he mumbled.
“I was making sure you were alive. I’m on concussion duty. I need to check on you every hour, remember?”
He kissed her forehead, mumbling again that he was fine. Olive’s throat closed from having him so near. She pressed a kiss to his chest, right above his heart, before she could stop herself, drawing a heart with her finger.
“It’s tomorrow, you know.”
5:39 AM.
“It is.”
“Do I get to know what else you promised yet?” Adam rolled to his side, making an excellent big spoon. He ran his nose along her neck, his warm breath prickling her soft skin. His kiss on her shoulder was featherlight. Had she imagined it?
“If I were less scared, maybe.”
He squeezed her hip. “It’s just me.”
Just him, Adam Carlsen. And Olive was just her—the girl that had loved him in quiet for years without knowing who he was.
“I think we met the day I interviewed for Stanford.”
Adam froze behind her. “I thought you didn’t remember.”
“I never saw you,” she explained. “Expired contacts, and all.”
Adam swore. His hand splayed across her stomach, pulling her further into him. “Olive.”
“And, um, it was Tom who made me cry after my panel. I thought breaking up with you would be better than telling you what happened. I’m not moving to Boston.”
“What?”
She was on a roll now. What was one more truth?
“Also, I…ik hou van jou.”
God, she had finally said it. Horribly, perhaps, but she said it. Adam went catatonic behind her, which was an excellent cue to leave, but Olive forced herself to stay. The longer he was silent, the more her eyes burned. “I know you don’t feel the same. I just wanted you to know. Holden told me about the woman you—”
“There’s no one else. What did Tom do?”
“That would fall under the category of strenuous activity.”
“Olive.” His tone possessed a warning, carrying none of the heat her name falling from his lips held moments prior.
“I’ll tell you when the time is right.”
“Fine. I’ll drop a few bombs of my own. I’m not moving to Boston either.”
“What?”
“And I love you, too.”
Oh.
She couldn’t bring herself to face him, not even when he nudged her gently, kissing her shoulder and then the shell of her ear. She couldn’t parse his words, nor did she have any idea as to where to start or what to say. Blood was pounding in her ears. Instead, Olive burrowed into him deeper, doing her best to bite down her smile. It didn’t work. A laugh burst free instead, and then another. A moment later, Olive realized her cheeks were damp.
“Are you laughing at me?”
“I’m happy.”
Adam hummed, trailing his lips along the spot on her neck that made Olive shiver. “What do I need to do to drop the ‘fake’ aspect of our relationship?”
“Are you proposing to me?”
“Nah. I believe that would fall under the category of strenuo—”
She pinched the fleshy part of his forearm. He grinned into her neck, squeezing her waist. Olive faced him, demanding clarification.
“What do you mean?”
“I’ll tell you when the time is right,” he promised, running the tip of his nose along the bridge of hers. He seemed happy. Content with teasing Olive. “After I hold Tom accountable for his actions. No arguing.”
She had opened her mouth to do just that.
“Fine.”
“Good.”
Olive stayed silent for a whole ten seconds before she could stand it no longer. “You want to date for real? You and me?”
“Is that really such a surprise? I just told you that I love you.”
If there was anything Olive could say for certain about Adam Carlsen, it was that he was honest to a fault.
He gave her a self-deprecating smile. “Have you forgotten that I am an old man? Is it shocking that I want to settle down with the woman I love?”
“You were pretty wild before me,” she agreed. “During your mathlete days.”
“And to think I thought I’d never be tamed.”
“I guess I said I loved you, too.”
“You did.”
“I think we’ll need to table the us being engaged part for now. I’ll need more convincing first. Pumpkin spice season isn’t over yet, you know. It ends after Thanksgiving.”
It was mere days away.
“Bribery, of course. I had nearly forgotten the rules of courtship. That’s number one, right?”
Olive hooked her leg over Adam’s hip, wanting to be as close as possible, looping her arms around his neck.
“Exactly. We can expand our dates to longer than ten minutes, and I’d like to see you more than once per week.”
“Measurable objectives. I like it. You’re driving a hard bargain so far. Are off-campus meetings allowed, or only when hospitals and aftercare are involved?”
“The court will deliberate and get back with you shortly.”
“And no sex until the wedding, I presume?” He was smiling now, leaving a trail of kisses wherever he went.
“No sex until you’re medically cleared,” she mumbled. “I’m not willing to risk your injuries.”
“How long?”
“I’m taking you to your follow-up on—”
“Not that,” he said, kissing her left hand.
Marriage. He was asking when he could propose. It was surreal to even be having this conversation.
“I always thought I would die alone with my science and my lab equipment, but I suppose I could trade the title of crazy, old, science lady for something else.”
“Cat lady?”
“Precisely.”
“For better or for worse. We’ve already got in sickness and in health down.”
Adam had always been patient with Olive, allowing her to have control over what happened between them. Somehow, she knew he would wait until the end of time if that’s what Olive wanted or needed, but he deserved more.
“Whenever you think the time is right.”
His eyes narrowed. “Whenever?”
“Whenever,” she confirmed. It turns out that when you know, you really do know, and she told him so.