My Escape Chapter 18

**Yes, yes, I know how abrupt this ending is. I didn't even give a warning! I'm sorry. But I was on a roll while writing and I felt as if the Oliver/Kara story was finished. I think it might be a little short and I'm sorry for that. BTW, the comments on this story have been seriously appreciated! They really kept me writing this story. Anyways, I hope you all enjoy!!**

Oliver was on our doorstep at exactly seven o’clock that night. Let me just say that I was shocked. In all the years I had known Oliver, he had never been on time for anything. Ever.
Sara got to the door first as she had been sitting on the recliner not two feet away. I was a tad bit disappointed because I had wanted to kiss him hello. And now that he was in the house, I couldn’t. Kiss him in front of my dad? No thanks.

But when I walked over to him, he smiled, wrapped an arm around my waist, and kissed the top of my head. I sighed. It hadn’t been the kiss I had wanted, but it was amazing enough. Sara cooed, "Aww…you two are the cutest." Then she stuck her hand out at Oliver and said, "I’m Sara; nice to meet you."
He smiled at her and I could have sworn that she swooned a little bit. He shook her hand and said, "Nice to meet you too. I’m Oliver."
Then we all turned our heads when my dad appeared in the room. He nodded at Oliver and gave him one of those men-only firm handshakes. "Good to see you again, Oliver," my dad said in a macho, I’m-the-man-of-the-house tones.

"You too, sir," he said and then asked, "So where we going for dinner? I’m starved."
Sara laughed and said, "That Italian place on fourth street. What’s it called again?" She looked over at my dad as she waited for an answer.
He thought it over for a second and then told her, "I’m pretty sure it’s Bella Italia."
Oliver nodded and said, "I know where you’re talking about. I’ve been there before."
"Really?" Sara asked, suddenly hyper. "Is it any good? I’ve never been but a few of the girls in my pottery class have and say it’s delicious."
"That it is," Oliver told her with a smile. "But it’s always really crowded so I’m sure there will be a wait."

My dad smile proudly and then informed us, "Actually I made reservations for seven-fifteen. Kara, do you want to ride with Oliver?"
Duh, I wanted to tell him. But instead, I said, "Sure," as if it really made no difference to me. I didn’t want my dad to think that Oliver and I were itching to be alone. I mean, I kind of was, but then this dinner could be the best thing ever. If my dad approved of my seeing Oliver then everything would be falling into place.
"Then let’s go!" Sara chirped, sounding so happy she could barely contain herself.
Oliver grabbed my hand as we walked to his truck. As soon as we were enclosed inside of the truck, he leaned across the middle seat and kissed me long and hard. It was pure luck that he had tinted windows. It was like we had been separated three months instead of three hours.

He rested his forehead against mine and his sweet breath fanned across my face. Our noses rubbed each other as he whispered, "I missed you."
I ran my hand through his hair, wrapping the curls around my finger. I sighed, "I missed you too."
"So I was thinking we just skip dinner…" he led on suggestively and I couldn’t help but let out an embarrassing school-girl giggle.
"This is important," I told him. "My dad hated you four years ago when you dumped me. You need to make him like you again."

He pulled away and suddenly looked apologetic. He asked, "You know why I did that, right?"
I shook my head. He had said some mumbo jumbo about why he did it yesterday, something about me being too good for him, but I hadn’t believed him. But things had happened since yesterday afternoon and I thought I would believe him now.
Before he could say anything, headlights beamed into the truck, partially blinding the two of us. Thank God we hadn’t left the driveway yet. My dad and Sara had just left, meaning that we had to leave too.
Once my dad’s car was partially down the street, Oliver pulled out into the street and then followed my dad and Sara. He looked over at me and said, "I broke up with you back then because I knew you would find someone better and smarter at Yale. Someone you had more in common with. I didn’t want to wait for the blow when you called and said ‘hey, I met someone else’."

Had he really thought that? Had he not realized how perfect he was for me? On some levels we were the complete opposite of each other, but that made our relationship so much more interesting. We had things in common too, though. Most importantly, how much we cared for the other.
"Seriously?" I couldn’t help but ask. He had always seemed so confident back then.
He nodded and said, "But then the whole time you were away, I wanted to beat myself over the head for dumping you."
"So why didn’t you call me?"
"The same reason. I was scared shitless you had met someone else."

I laughed; he had had absolutely no reason to be worried. "So do you feel like an idiot now for never calling?"
"I wouldn’t go as far as an idiot, but I felt pretty stupid when you said you didn’t regret last night this morning."
"I had had one boyfriend in college. We dated for a month," I informed him, hoping that he’d see he was the only guy out there for me.
He bit down on his lip to keep from asking more about him. He probably wanted to know if I had slept with him. "No, I didn’t sleep with him," I told him,, and saw his chest puff out from letting out a deep breath.
"Was I your first?" he asked incredulously.
I blushed. "No. I had a couple of one-night stands freshman." That had been the hardest year. Freshman year I had still been getting over Oliver and I had made a vow to myself to look for someone better. I hadn’t found anyone.

He couldn’t help but laugh. "You? Kara? Had one-night stands?"
"Why is that so hard to believe?" I demanded.
"Because…you’re always so in control of yourself. One-night stands usually involve alcohol of some sort and you hate alcohol."
That was true. I did hate alcohol. It was one of the many reasons my mom died. Alcohol and pain pills. Not a good mixture. Add that to a depressed woman with no mother and you got suicide. "Well, some bad things happened right before I left, in case you don’t remember," I said sarcastically, just joking with him.
"Don’t blame me for whoring yourself out!" he defended, sounding pissed.
"I was just kidding," I told him calmly. I really had been only joking. Why had he gotten so mad over that?

He automatically seemed over it. He smiled and joked, "They weren’t as good as me, though, right?"
"If telling yourself that helps you sleep at night, then sure. You were ten times better."
"You know what I found out helps me sleep?"
I knew I would regret asking this. "What?"
He teased, "You sleeping with me."
I didn’t want to let him know that last night had been the best sleep I had gotten in years. If I told him that, he would get far too cocky. "Well, too bad I can’t stay the night tonight," I taunted, waiting for his reaction.
He looked over at me, petrified. "You’re kidding, right? You said earlier…"
"Just kidding!" I exclaimed, sticking my tongue out at him.
"Oh, you’re going to pay for that tonight."
"Can’t wait."

"You may now kiss the bride," the minister announced. My brother wrapped his arms around Leslie and they shared their first kiss as man and wife. My brother, the husband. It was sort of a weird thing to experience seeing as how I’d known my brother back when he thought girls had cooties and loved mud pies.
But then again, I was thrilled for him. My brother loved Leslie so much that it seemed like they should have been married years ago. They had dated ever since that senior year of high school and had been inseparable since. In fact, when my brother moved to Wisconsin to play for the Packers, Leslie moved in with him.

As they kissed, I looked over at Oliver and he winked at me. Happiness ran through my veins. It had been two months since I became the owner of his apartment. Well, we kind of co-owned it, I guess you could say. We’d spent one night apart and that was the night before my new job started.
I knew that if Oliver had slept over, I wouldn’t have gotten much sleep. But then I couldn’t sleep without him next to me, so irony had won that argument. So we practically lived together. We both worked nine-to-five jobs and we had adopted a golden retriever named Duckie together. Oliver had picked out the name, if you hadn’t noticed.

Claire had tried insanely hard to make it to the wedding, but it turned out she had a final today that she couldn't make up another time. I hadn't seen her since high school let out and I missed her so much. But we talked on the phone weekly. She knew about me and Oliver's reunion and at first, she hadn't been to keen on the idea. But once she saw how happy I was, she had gotten over it. She was still my best friend. As for her and Tom, well, they weren't together anymore. In fact, Claire had recently told me about how she's been hooking up with a professor who was "the hottest thing ever to wear a leather jacket."
Gah, I missed her.

Oliver joined me as everyone followed the bride and groom down the aisle out of the church. He chuckled and whispered in my ear, "The puke green color of that dress suits you."
I elbowed him in his ribs playfully and said, "You said you liked it last night when I tried it on!"
"That was only because I wanted to get you in the sack," he teased, making sure to talk lowly. There were little kids here!
"I’m in your sack every freaking night!" I argued. I mean, we didn’t do it every night, we were both usually too exhausted from arguing and going to work all day.

He rolled his eyes at me and asked, "Now when do we get cake?"
I couldn’t help but laugh; he sounded like a five-year-old. "In about an hour or two," I said as the daylight hit us as soon as we were outside of the church. Now everybody was going to pile into limos and be whisked away to where they were having the reception.
"I need a sugar fix," he whined. "Give me some sugar, Kara."
I kissed him on his cheek quickly and laughed, "Maybe later."

Oliver and I weren’t the ideal couple; that much I could admit. He was the immature, cocky, playful guy while I was the hard worker who could be a heartless bitch. Even people in high school didn’t see how we could be together. But something about our relationship was so surreal it was almost magical.
It was like being with him made me forget about the rest of the world. When I was with him, I didn’t worry about work or family drama or financial problems. When I was with Oliver, all I could think about was him and how amazingly wonderful he made me feel. He was my vacation from the world--My Escape.