The Unbroken

XVI

As soon as we begin pulling up in front of Chris' house, Oliver starts bouncing giddily like the little boy he is upon spotting Rosie waiting for us. She's leaning against the wall, watching patiently while we park in my usual spot. Beside each of her ankles is a bag, my black duffle on the left and Ollie's red rucksack to the right. She smiles when we come to a stop, glad to be greeting us back to our crappy town.

Annoyingly, the traffic had been in a horrific state for the last half hour. It took close to five hours to get by due to the road being closed for two hours to clear the accident. A lorry crashed into the side railings, effectively blocking off the entire road. A service came to pick it up, but the damage meant only one side of the motorway could be opened up again. Meaning, they were letting people through two cars at a time - or so it felt. We'd been lucky enough to end up at the back of the queue and no one would let us merge.

We spent the extra time playing childish games to prevent death by boredom. Ollie downed a large coffee with our dinner, he was basically vibrating until I let him run it off in the forest with a game of tag while we waited for the tow truck. We managed to creep out a lot of drivers when playing 'I spy' by looking in their windows and not at the road when moving. However, the massive distraction completely demolished his driving anxiety.

The boy almost knocks us over when tumbling off of the bike to get to Ro. His run is clumsy from being unaware that he has feet. His helmet is tossed back to me, expecting that I catch it which I barely manage to do. She practically sparkles as she giggles at his immature antics of stumbling over himself with eagerness to wrap her up in his arms. It is cute to witness, they're a sickly sweet couple but I love it.

Snatching her up, she's spun in a dramatic circle full of happiness and laughter. You'd think it has been months since they last saw each other, not a mere thirty-six hours.

I don't say anything, allowing them time for their intense make out session. I spend the time attaching the helmets and getting everything out or away depending on what it is.

When finally looking up, I find the two of them standing by my side. She's pushed him behind her where he clings in delight. Cheerfully nuzzling into her neck, tiny whimpers of satisfaction soften my heart.

"I suggest the two of you go straight to the court. Chris is waiting, less than impressed." Her sad smile etched on her lips. I groan, "I thought you were going to talk to him?"

"I tried but he's already in a bad mood. He's gone berserk over your 'uncalled' for absence and thinks I'm lying to cover for you." The boy's eyes gloss at the idea of someone being mad at him. "I'll deal with it." I say while raking my fingers in my hair to redo it.

They follow as I lead, heading straight for the garden. Honestly, men infuriate me at times. Not necessarily just men, but leaders that think their way is the only right way and that we have to be there at their beck and call.

I turn back to them when I hear a little squeal, seeing him tickling her sides for something or other. All is fine until I bump into the back of the very large man raging about responsibility.

The squared back sends me tumbling to the ground where I bruise my back and butt. My grunt catches everyone's attention, all beady eyes staring into my skull while I mutter to myself about timing. From my peripheral, I can see Oliver trying to slyly make an exit from the fuming man glaring down at me.

"Hold it right there!" His finger points to the child who gazes at his feet respectfully submitting.

I take my sweet time to get back up, brushing myself off and cracking my back. I lean down to collect my bag, seemingly infuriating him further by moving leisurely. He can fucking wait.