When I walked into Jamie's loft and noticed she was gone, my panic sesh lasted about a minute. Even though she clearly flew the coop, all of her stuff was still in her room. If I was a religious person, I would have dropped to my knees right then to thank God that she was still in this city—that she didn't take off to some other godforsaken country without telling me or anyone else.

My relief didn't last long, though. Once Harper told me that today was Cherise's birthday, and we'd established that Jamie was indeed not here, her best friend wouldn't let me off the phone until I promised to locate her and let them know she was all right.

I made that promise and was going to stick to it. Jamie's trust came first, of course, but if I didn't let them know she was safe and sound once I found her, they made it clear that they were dead set on boarding a plane and coming over here themselves. I knew for a fact that that was the last thing Jamie wanted or needed right now.

Then I went and found her at that bar. The first place I checked was the park. I knew she most likely wanted some alone time so that was my first guess. When I didn't find her there, I figured she was going to look for a place to get drunk. And I was right.

When I stepped into that bar and saw her sitting there, I could feel the guilt and sorrow rolling off of her in waves and it nearly broke me. I was fortunate that I still had both of my parents. Jamie lost her last one. I couldn't even imagine what she was going through.

And when Jamie told me she needed me—I mean really needed me—I wanted nothing more than to hold her and siphon all of that pain she was feeling into myself. But I knew that was impossible. Then she asked me to take her home and here we were, sitting in the living room of the warehouse we shared while the woman I loved broke down right in front of me.

Tears rolled down her cheeks, and it took all of my energy not to reach out and wipe them away. "None of us had any idea that my mom got tested. She was the only one, Ollie. A zero mismatch. It was her."

"Jamie..."

"I knew it was going to happen," she rasped. "They told us the risks. And when they said she was a match I knew. I begged her not to do it." She turned to me, eyes red-rimmed and filled with pain. "Am I a terrible person, Ollie? I told her not to even though that baby needed it." She ran her hands through her hair. "God, how could I do that?"

"No," I said firmly. "You are the farthest thing from a bad person." I cupped her face in my hands and wiped away her tears with my thumbs. "Jamie, you were scared for your mom. You never wished harm for that baby. There's nothing wrong with wanting your parent to live."

When she closed her eyes tight and started to cry harder, I pulled her close and held her against my chest. "Sh, baby, it's okay."

I stroked her hair as she wept in my arms. It took everything I had to keep my emotions in check. She needed me in this moment, and I was going to be there for her. For whatever she needed. Christ. Poor Cherise. She was such a brave woman; I could tell the instant I met her. She saved the life of Ryan and Danielle's baby. It was a tragedy that she lost her own in the process. 

Who knew how much time had passed before Jamie's crying slowed and she started to relax against me. I tried to think of something else I could say or do to make her feel better, but I knew nothing would be enough.

"The night I called you from the hospital," she murmured. "Do you remember?"

"Yes." Of course, I remembered. As soon as I heard Jamie's voice on the other end of that call, I knew something terrible had happened. It was the one time I really couldn't stand Simone even though it wasn't her fault.

"That was the night that..."

My eyes squeezed shut when she didn't finish her sentence. It was the night they removed her mom from life support. "Shit, Jamie. I'm so sorry."

She shook her head against my chest. "No, you don't have anything to apologize for. I just wanted to say thank you."

"For what?"

"For answering that day. I know I misunderstood what I heard and hung up, but still...hearing your voice kinda soothed me a little."

Her words echoed in my head, but I didn't say anything back. What could I say? So I just continued to hold her and comfort her as best as I could. When she finally pulled away from me and started to get up from the couch, she stumbled.

"Whoa, careful." I got up immediately and wrapped an arm around her waist. "I think the alcohol is really starting to hit you." She nodded and leaned against me. "What can I do for you?" 

"Can you just take me to bed and hold me?"

My chest got tight with emotion. "Yeah, of course." I scooped her up in my arms and carried her to my bedroom that we've been sharing.

I sat her on the edge of the bed before I removed her jacket and shoes. When I asked her if she wanted to change, she just asked for one of my shirts. I was happy to oblige. A few minutes later we were both in bed, me laying on my back while she was draped across my chest with my hand buried in her hair.

"I love you, Ollie."

My heart nearly stopped when I heard her say the words I've been longing to hear. But as much as I wanted to, I couldn't say it back. Not like this. She was drunk and vulnerable right now, and most likely wouldn't remember much of what happened tonight. If I said it now...No, I couldn't. But I had to say something.

My mind went back to that movie Ghost. Every time Demi Moore's charter said I love you to Patrick Swayze, he couldn't bring himself to say it back the same way. Instead he said one word...

"Ditto," I finally murmured before placing a soft kiss to her lips.

***

I grabbed the fresh cup of coffee I made for Jamie and walked across my loft and back towards my bed. My bed that she wasn't in anymore, apparently. I looked around and found her standing by the only window in the warehouse that had a view of the Eiffel tower. 

Jamie woke up this morning hungover and groggy, asking me questions about the night before. She recalled bits and pieces of being at the bar and then our talk in the living room. But she didn't mention or seem to remember saying the L-bomb. Which was fine. If she ever did say that to me, I wanted to know it was coming from her. The sober her. 

Drawn to her, I started across my bedroom and stopped just before I reached her. I just needed to look at her. Especially like this. With the bed sheet pulled loosely around her body. Her very naked body thanks to the two times she and I made love this morning. The thin fabric dipped low, exposing her soft back to me. Her long and thick fiery red hair that I loved to bury my hands in was brushed over one shoulder.

Goddamn. I loved looking at her. I could stand here all day and just...watch her. She was the most beautiful creature I had ever seen. The most unique. Eccentric. But even so, she was different. Different than before. And the 'why' killed me every time I thought about it.

"She would have loved Paris," Jamie whispered. "She always wanted to come here. Never had the time. Then she got sick the first time. And now..."

I finally took the few steps that separated us and stood beside her. "She's here, Jamie."

Jamie scoffed and shook her head. "No, she's not. I buried her—and I replay those few hours over and over again in my head. I feel that loss every damn day." She finally turned towards me. "So please, Ollie, don't say stuff like that to me."

I understood what she was asking for. Even though she was talking about her mom more now, it was still too painful to believe her mom was here with her. Baby steps.

She took the coffee from me when I handed it to her. "Okay, Jamie. I promise."

"Thank you."

She looked back out the window and placed the mug to her lips. Then she just watched the cars pass by down below. Watched the few people on the sidewalks with umbrellas of all colors. The rain continued to fall from the sky at a steady rhythm. Thunder rumbled above us.

"So is this weather going to ruin the plans you had for us today?" Her voice was lighter now. Curious. Pain-free.

I wrapped an arm around her waist and pulled her body against mine. She clutched the coffee mug to her chest with one arm, resting the other one on my chest.

"Not at all. My plans are strictly indoors today."

"Oh, really? Anything to do with that?" She glanced to my bed with a wicked smile.

I chuckled and leaned forward to brush my lips against hers. "I'm sure that will happen again later. And again, and again. But that's not what I had in mind right now."

"No?" Her tongue sneaked out and traced my lips. "What did you have in mind then?"

"I want to paint you, Jamie." The words fell against her lips. "Let me paint you..."

I kissed her deep. My tongue danced with hers as she ran her hand up to the nape of my neck and tangled her fingers in my hair. She tasted like the coffee I made her. Vanilla with a tiny hint of cinnamon—and I loved that taste. Christ, she tasted so fucking good. Everything about her...was just so fucking good.

She responded to my kiss and pushed her body closer to mine. I could feel the hard nipples of her breasts brush against my chest through the thin sheet she still had wrapped around her. I didn't need to feel her to know that other parts of her body were ready for me, too.

"What's the saying?" she asked breathlessly when she pulled away. "You want to paint me like one of your French girls?"

I laughed at that and stroked her bottom lip with my thumb. "No, my beautiful, Guinevere. The quote is, 'Draw me like one of your French girls', and it doesn't apply here."

"Why not?"

I looked into her eyes when I answered her. "Because I've never drawn a woman I was involved with before. When I paint for a job, it's different. When I paint for me...I only paint the things that matter." I cupped the side of her face with my hand. "You matter to me. And no matter how much you try to make me think otherwise, I know I matter to you, too. That's why I want to draw you."

She studied my expression for several moments before she answered. I didn't want to rush her. What I was asking was a big deal to her and I didn't want her to feel pressured. The corner of her mouth lifted in a wry smile.

"Where do you want me?" 

***

For any who haven't seen the movie Ghost or have heard the word ditto before, it basically means 'me too' or 'same here'.

Hope you enjoyed this chapter! 🖤