What the Heart Knows

“Did she call you that?”

The jealousy she expected to experience never came. Instead she felt a bond. They both loved this man, and if he needed her to be a sounding board now she would be. They had come a long way and she refused to backslide because he felt he couldn’t talk to her.

“Yeah, but it’s not an exclusive thing. My whole family uses that nickname.”

“It’s okay if you want to talk about her, Oliver. I don’t expect you to completely forget your wife, or the good times you had together because she’s deceased. I’m not threatened by the presence of her ghost.”

“I don’t want you to think I’m not over her,” he said. He peered at her through the curtain of blond hair that had fallen into his eyes.

“I understand you’ll always love her, Oliver. As long as I’m your main focus I don’t mind sharing a little.” She winked in an attempt to lighten the mood, and moved to sit beside him on the couch.

“I don’t want to pry, but it might help if you talk about it.”

“There’s nothing to talk about it.”

She arched an eyebrow at his tone, and inclined her head to the side.

“Okay, let me rephrase. There’s nothing worth mentioning,” he said.

“Hmmm…”

“Didn’t you want to tell me about the next thing on your list?”

“Number fifty: visit a psychic.”

“Are you serious?”

“Yes, but not just any old run of the mill psychic with a crystal ball. Someone’s who’s been proven to be accurate.”

“And where exactly do you plan on finding this person?” Oliver asked.

“More stall tactics?”

“No, I’m genuinely curious.”

“I’ve done my research and there’s a fortune teller named Madeline.”

&

nbsp; “No Madam in the front?”

“No,” she said. A deep frown turned down the corner of her lips as she narrowed her eyes. “If you’re going to use this as a distraction method, the least you can do is treat it with some respect.”

“Okay.” He held his palms held up to indicate surrender. “Tell me when and where and we’ll go.”

“Really?” she asked.

“Yes.”

“Excellent. It’s about a thirty minute drive, and walk-ins are welcome.”

“Why do I feel like this is an ambush?”

“Because sometimes I swear you’re allergic to fun.” Her delivery was lighthearted, but the words themselves were honest.

She’d dragged Oliver back into life kicking and screaming, and at times the relapse was horrendous. It was like he’d been punishing himself for living when his wife died. Juni sensed there was still more to that story, but prying would only drive a wedge between them, and she hoped eventually he’d open up to her on his own. For now it wasn’t hurting anyone to have some secrets left to be discovered.

“Lead the way.”