Love is Love Read online

  Love is love

  Amelia K Oliver

  Cover by

  Dream covers By K & L

  Formatting by

  Trice Ellis

  Copyright © 2021 by Amelia K Oliver

  All rights reserved.

  No part of this book may be reproduced in any form or by any electronic or mechanical means, including information storage and retrieval systems, without written permission from the author, except for the use of brief quotations in a book review.

  * * *

  Previously published in No way out, Blessing moon publications.

  Contents

  Chapter 1

  Chapter 2

  Chapter 3

  Chapter 4

  Chapter 5

  Chapter 6

  Chapter 7

  Chapter 8

  Also by Amelia K Oliver

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  The elevator groans as I step inside, the mix of body odour and cheap perfume make my stomach twist and turn. Biting my cheek to stop myself from gagging, I try to raise my hand to press the buttons but the bags in my hands are too heavy. Struggling against the weight, I try to jump and jab my finger out only for it to miss and bend backwards. "Mother trucker," I yelp in pain and drop half my bags. Apples roll across the floor as the rest of the contents scatter around me. "Oh, just fantastic." I stare down at my single steak, no longer in its wrapper, the juices splattered up my bare leg. So much for my dinner. I bite my cheek harder, trying to hold back the tears that threaten to spill down my pale cheeks. How my life has changed.

  Allen, my soon to be ex-husband left me three months ago, since then, my life has changed more than I can even describe. I was nineteen when I met him, young and clueless, I thought he was my whole world, my forever, so when he asked me to marry him just three months later, I was all too eager to say yes. He was wealthy, had a good job, older than me, had his own apartment in the middle of the city, liked to party and was fun to be around. A dream come true for a girl like me. I was happy, or so I thought. It turned out that not only was Allen a party animal, he was also a ladies man. There were so many red flags that I just chose to ignore, not even the one that flashed and made a siren sound on the day of our wedding when I caught him grabbing one of my bridesmaids butts or the ones that slapped me in the face when he had to work late every single night. No, I continued in my own little world, pretending that I was happy with the love of my life. Until one night he came home drunk and in a bad mood, everything changed. Everything.

  Dropping the rest of the bags, I sigh deeply. My building is rundown, old and left to rot by a landlord who doesn't give a shit so long as he gets his money, so the floor of the elevator is nasty. The closer I get to it, the more the stench of urine makes my nose burn. I try to breathe through my mouth as I bend to pick up my ruined food but can't quite make it. I'm going to have to squat. Shit. There's no telling if I'll be able to get back up from that. The doors begin to close, leaving me to be humiliated in private. At least that's something. Just as I grab the sticky rail beside me and brace myself for a squat, a hand slips through the small gap in the doors, forcing them back open. Double shit. I daren't look up as someone walks halfway in, then freezes, stopping the doors from shutting. Lifting my eyes to the hallway beyond, I immediately wish the floor would open up and eat me. A group of young women, probably around my age if not a little younger, all staring at me. I'm half crouched, my stained dress hangs loosely around my thin shoulders, my greasy hair falls free in chunks from my messy bun and hangs limply around my makeup-free face. My sneakers have holes in them because I used them for gym in high school but they're the only things that fit on my swollen feet. I straighten up and look into the cracked mirror beside me.

  I'm a mess. The bags under my eyes are dark, my once bright blue eyes are now sunken into my cheeks and my skin is greasy, my lips are chapped and I'm pretty sure I smell like a bag of worn socks. My mask smells like last night's dinner and I haven't brushed my hair in weeks.

  "Are you ok?" A deep, masculine voice asks behind me seconds before something touches my elbow. I jump and accidentally kick over a couple of bags, sending more food across the floor. The group of girls laugh loudly from the hall, I feel my face burn as I look down at my feet then back to the stranger staring at me in the mirror. The doors close but I barely notice as the elevator begins to move. I blink furiously to clear my watery vision but it doesn't work. No, Ella, you will not cry.

  Taking a deep breath, I nod, hoping the guy witnessing me fall apart doesn’t see it, and begin to bend for my shopping. Only when I look down again, all I can see is a head of dark hair and the back of a leather jacket and a backpack.

  "That's ok, I can manage." I croak, my throat dry and raw.

  "I've got it, " he replies softly. Feeling numb, I let the stranger pick up my dirty and ruined food and lean back against the wall behind me. Today has been such a shit show. The day started with a call from my lawyer, Allen won't sign the divorce papers. He doesn't want me, but he also doesn't want to make it easy for me to move on, either. Then, I walked into town to find my favourite coffee shop has closed down because of covid. The market was packed with people, I had to wait in a line so long, I'm pretty sure my sneakers are going to burst open at any second my feet are so swollen. And now, I'm starving and a stranger is picking up my shopping from the gross floor of this damn elevator.

  "There," the man pushes my bags towards my feet, "I think that's everything, I'm afraid your steak is only fit for the trash, this floor isn't exactly clean." Unable to look into his eyes, I raise mine to the ceiling and chew on my cheek.

  "Thank you," I mumble, unsure if he can hear me through this damn mask.

  "An apple got stuck in the door," I look down at his offering with half-closed eyes, "it didn't make it." He pulls at the front of his shirt awkwardly and smiles.

  "It looks like how I feel," I say without thinking. The once round fruit is now smushed in half, pulverised by the doors closing on it. The guy makes a bad job of hiding his chuckle by coughing and that's when I look up for the first time. Bright blue eyes greet me over a black mask, framed with dark lashes that match the ring around the blue, they're kind and hold a glint of humour, though it's lost on me in my current state of exhaustion. "Thanks for your help," I say quickly and begin to grab the bags.

  "You're welcome."

  Having not eaten all day and the fact the small space is unbearably hot, my hands refuse to work right but I manage to get them all just before the doors open. I waddle out and slowly wheeze my way to my door. Hands full and at my breaking point, I curse loudly when I pull my keys from my purse and drop them just as they're about to slide into the lock.

  "Well, isn't that just the motherfucking icing on the shit cake!" I groan as I look down at them.

  "I wouldn't eat that cake if I were you." The guy says beside me. "Here, let me help."

  "No, " I say louder than I mean to, "I got it." But before I can bend, he easily grabs the bunch of keys off the dirty carpet and jiggles them in his hand.

  "I know you do, but sometimes it's ok to get a little help, ya know?" Smoothly, he unlocks my door and pushes it open. "Hello?" He shouts inside as I stand there with my mouth open, "Your wife is home, mate, she could use your help." Looking down at me, the stranger frowns a little when I shake my head.

  "There's no one in there," I say without thinking. I try to double back, just in case this guy's a nutter, but when I notice the space between his eyes is scrunched up in concern, I'm shocked to find I'm not even a little bit scared of him. Our eyes lock and for what feels like forever, we just stare at each other until I lose grip of the bags in my left hand and they crash loudly to the floor. "Crap,"

  "Let me," he offers, again.

>   I open my mouth to say no but the words don't come out. "Okay." I find myself saying. I know, I know, I should know better, right? Looks can be deceiving and it wouldn't be the first time I've been wrong about a guy, but this softly spoken man has walked past my common sense almost as if it doesn't exist in the first place.

  "My name's Luke."

  "I'm Ella," I reply whilst licking my dry lips. I can't remember the last time I drank something. Or ate. I'm such a mess it should be embarrassing but I don't have the energy for that.

  "Go sit down, Ella, I'll put this lot in your kitchen," I nod, not having the strength to do anything else while Luke wanders off with the bags. I drag my poor feet to the couch and drop down onto it.

  "Oh, that feels good." I groan the weight now off my feet and back. Relaxing back, I let my head rest against the cushion behind me. Noises come from somewhere in my apartment but I can't move to see what or who it is, all I can do is let my eyes slide closed as exhaustion takes over me. For all I know, Luke is preparing to murder me but I can't stop myself from falling into a deep sleep.

  Waking up has always come easily to me, alert and sharp straight away, I was a morning person only nine months ago. That seems like a lifetime ago now. I force my eyes to flicker open, expecting to see darkness like usual. Falling asleep during the day and waking up at night has become my new normal these days but when faint sunlight greets me, I frown. A cool breeze caresses my cheeks as I peel back the blanket and sit up with way more effort than should be needed. When I'm upright, I stare out of the window beside me, listening to the birds sing in the park below. Another peaceful morning completely alone.

  "What the hell?" I jump as the sound of plates banging together reaches my ears. "Who's there?" I shout in panic. I live alone and have done for months, there should be no noises!

  "Sorry," a dark-haired man pops his head around the door, "I dropped a plate in the sink."

  "Who the fuck are you?" I try to stand, to be ready to fight but I feel light-headed and weak.

  "Shit, sorry, " he walks further into the room, revealing wide shoulders, slim hips around six feet in height, I'm five-five and he is a few inches taller. My heart leaps into my throat at the sight. I expected dread to follow but it doesn't, somehow, all I feel is comfort. Safe. Huh? "It's Luke, I helped in the elevator?"

  "Oh," the memory of yesterday floods my mind. The humiliation. Oh, God.

  "Yeah, you passed out." His wide shoulders rise and fall, "you looked sick and I was too worried to leave you." I nod, not knowing what to say. "I slept in the spare room, I didn't want to wake you up, you looked like you needed the sleep."

  "Yeah, I haven't been sleeping too well," I reply, the words scraping against my throat.

  "I made you breakfast, I hope you don't mind, I know it's odd, me being here still." His blue eyes find mine and refuse to let go as he pulls the front of his shirt away from his body over and over. I try to swallow but it's like there's glass in my throat. "I… gimme a sec," Quickly dashing out of the room, Luke makes plenty of noise in my kitchen as I just sit and wait. I should be scared, weirded out or something, except, I'm not. I don't know this man, never seen him before in my life and yet here he is, in my apartment, making breakfast and sleeping in my spare room. A stranger. What does it say about my mental health when I feel completely safe with this man I know nothing about? Have I gone crazy? Mad? Should I call the cops? I don't know. I don't feel like I'm in danger. Before I can question my situation any further, Luke walks back into the room with a tray laden with food.

  "I didn't know if you liked tea or coffee so I made both." He hands me the tray and I take it shakily. He quickly pulls a small table towards me and gently takes back the tray and lays it on top. "I hope you like scrambled eggs and toast. There wasn't much to work with, sorry." I watch him as he reaches up and rubs the back of his neck. He's nervous?

  "Thanks." I grab the coffee and take a small sip for two reasons. One, it might be hot and two, at this point I don't care if it's poisoned, I could drain a lake right now. Hot and sweet, I finish the cup quickly and then start on the tea. "Hmm, " I moan as the liquid soothes my parched throat.

  "You should try and eat," Luke says softly as he leans against the door frame. I watch the steam rise from the food and my stomach growls loudly. I'm starving, like, eat a whole cow kinda hungry. Without putting my cup down, I pick up a spoon and dig into the tastiest food I've had in what feels like years. I gulp tea in between bites and don't even notice when Luke disappears as I eat. He returns sometime later with a big glass of water which I also drink. It's not until everything is gone that I finally look up at him again.

  "Sorry,"

  "Please don't be sorry, you needed a good meal." He frowns down at me but then shakes his head while he nervously cups his hands in front of him. "How far along are you, Ella?"

  His question makes me look down at my hands that cradle my belly. A lump rises in my throat as something nudges my palm.

  "Eight months," I answer quietly.

  "Dad?"

  Shaking my head, I whisper the shameful words. "He doesn't want to be involved." I'm not sure what I was expecting, but his next words were not it.

  "What a dickhead." My head whips up and I almost yelp at the look on his face. His eyes are like slits and his teeth are gnashed together. He looks genuinely angry. "What an absolute wanker! I can't stand men like him."

  I gulp, worried he will direct that anger at me but when he notices, his whole demeanour changes and he slowly makes his way to the couch and perches on the end. "Sorry, love, it just makes me sick that men walk away from the women they get pregnant. My dad did it to my mum, I was put into care because she couldn't cope with the three of us. He never bothered to contact me." My heart twists inside my chest. Will my baby hate his or her father for leaving us, too? I cuddle my bump a little tighter. I'll never tell them how they came to be conceived, never.

  "I'm sorry you went through that," I reply, knowing my words have little meaning to the damage already done.

  "Wasn't the worst thing I've gone through." He shudders as he runs his hand down his chest, "Anyway, are you full? I can make more if you want?" A small smile plays on my lips.

  "No, I couldn't eat another bite. Thank you, Luke, you didn't have to," my words stick in my throat as he reaches out to brush a strand of hair behind my ear. I almost stop breathing when I realise we haven't broken eye contact yet and he's much closer now. It's not uncomfortable or strange. His eyes are beautiful, his skin smooth and blemish-free with no wrinkles or scars with a smattering of beard that makes him even more attractive. He might be the most beautiful man I've ever laid eyes on.

  "It's no trouble, Ella. None at all." He smiles and this close I can see he has straight white teeth which are framed by pink, soft-looking lips. It's only then that I realise I'm staring at them. "I… is there anything you need?" He asks, making me look up only to notice he's staring at my lips, too. A sizzle starts low in my stomach.

  "No, I, um, I'm fine." My senses return and I pull away from him, not even realising I had leaned forward. "You can go, I mean, I'm sure your girlfriend is missing you." I edge, using a long-forgotten cue to find out if he's single or not. Not that he'd be interested in me. He's way out of my league. And look at me, I'm hardly a catch for a guy like Luke.

  "No, no, there's no… I don't," his smile fades as he sits back and folds his arms across his chest, "there's no one missing me. But if you want me to leave, just say."

  "No, it's okay." And I mean it. His presence is comforting. I know nothing other than his name yet, I like him.

  His eyes close in a long blink. When he opens them again, he smiles brightly and slaps his thigh. "I gotta pee." he proclaims, stands up and rushes from the room. I stare after him, confused. Did I say something wrong?

  I didn't realise I'd fallen asleep until something softly touches my cheek. "Ella?"

  "Huh?" I lift my head and rub the back of my sore neck. I can fall asleep in two seconds
flat these days, it's both a blessing and a curse. I guess growing a human takes its toll.

  "I've run you a bath, come on, I'll help you up." Taking my hand, Luke helps me to the bathroom where my breath is stolen from my lungs. "I didn't make it too hot, I know it's not good for pregnant women, I hope it was ok to add some bubble bath." He rambles as I blink at the frothy water with a longing I wasn't sure I was capable of anymore. Bubbles cover the steaming water, the smell of lavender and roses lingers in the air. Candles are dotted around the small room, making the space look romantic and relaxing.

  "This is… amazing thank you." I squeeze his hand and look up at him in awe. Men like him don't exist, do they? Did I die in that elevator and this is heaven? Sure smells like it, as I look into his smiling eyes, I realise it looks like heaven, too. There's no denying Luke is handsome, beautiful, even. My body heats as I realise my hand is still in his. We are hip to hip in the small space, my belly taking up most of the area but I don't feel closed in. I feel like we aren't close enough.

  Without my permission, my body turns towards him, my hand drops his and both of them find their own way up his chest to his shoulders. I feel him shiver beneath my palms. I half expect him to push me away. We are strangers, after all, but the pull I feel towards him is almost impossible to ignore. Something about him is so familiar, inviting and soothing.

  "You're welcome, Ella." His voice is gravelly, deep yet not rumbling, almost as if he’s fighting to keep it level as he reaches up and gently pulls the scrunchie from my knotted hair and tries to run his fingers through it. I'm ashamed to say that the bigger my belly grew, the less I took care of myself. I never expected to be preparing for a baby on my own. At least not at such a young age. I wanted children with Allen, or at least I thought I did. But it wasn't the plan to be pregnant at twenty-four let alone a single mother. But when I found out I was pregnant, Allen freaked out. He tried to force me to have an abortion. I'm pro-choice, but that wasn't the choice for me. It was either him or the baby. Our baby. My baby. No matter the circumstances of my pregnancy. I wasn't prepared for the moment he threw me out of our home with only the clothes I stood up in just days after I told him I wanted to keep the baby.