15. Oliver
CHAPTER 15
OLIVER
T he city stretches out before us, a living tapestry of light and shadow. From this vantage point on the rooftop, it looks peaceful — almost idyllic — with the skyline cutting a jagged silhouette against the darkening sky. It’s a view I’ve seen a thousand times from my penthouse office, but never quite like this, never with her.
“Look at that,” Nora says, her voice hushed in reverence as she points at bats swooping through the street lights, snatching bugs. “There’s so much life happening all around us.”
I follow her gaze, feeling a smile spread across my face without my permission. It’s infectious, the way she sees the world with a kind of wonder I’m not sure I ever had. With Nora next to me, it’s like I’m rediscovering colors I forgot existed, laughter that doesn’t come with a price tag, moments that don’t need to be scheduled between meetings.
“Thanks for bringing me up here.” My voice is a little more raw than I intend. “It’s been… a long time since I’ve just… stopped to enjoy a view.”
“We did it on Saturday,” she reminds me.
“True, but we were moving then.” I chuckle. “Tonight, we’re just standing here. It’s nice.”
Nora turns to me, her eyes soft in the fading light. “Sometimes we all need a reminder to slow down. Even you, Mr. High-Power, High-Achiever Extraordinaire.”
“Especially me,” I admit, running a hand through my hair — a nervous habit I can’t seem to shake even now.
The wind picks up, and she shivers slightly. Instinctively, I remove my jacket and drape it over her shoulders. She smiles her gratitude, and something warm unfurls inside my chest.
“Oliver, can I ask you something?” Her tone has shifted, and there’s a seriousness there that makes my heart thud irregularly.
“Of course, anything,” I reply.
She hesitates, looking down at her hands before meeting my gaze again. “After college… why didn’t you ever respond to my emails? I mean, truthfully?”
The question hits me harder than I expect, dredging up a mix of guilt and old fears. I take a deep breath, trying to gather the courage to give her the truth she deserves.
“Because every single word you wrote… it had an effect on me, Nora. A profound one. And that scared me.”
My confession hangs between us, stark and vulnerable. “I was on the brink of taking over the company, and I was convinced I needed to stay in control. Of everything. But with you… I was worried I’d lose that control.”
“Because of me?” Her voice is barely above a whisper, disbelief etching her features.
“Yes. Because of you. You made me feel things that were… unpredictable. And I couldn’t afford unpredictable — not then.” I reach for her hand, holding it gently between mine. “I’m sorry, Nora. I should have been upfront with you instead of just… vanishing.”
She squeezes my hand, her thumb stroking my skin in a soothing motion. “I wish you hadn’t vanished. But I’m glad you’re here now.”
“Me too,” I say, and I mean it more than I’ve meant anything in a long time.
Because right now, with Nora’s hand in mine and the city breathing below us, I feel lighter than air — like maybe I can let go of the reins, just a little, and trust that everything will still be okay.
The wind picks up, sending a chill through my blazer as Nora and I share the silence, our gaze fixed on the pulsating city lights. They flicker like distant stars, for a moment convincing me that the other side of the city might be a universe away.
“Oliver,” she begins, her voice light but laced with an undercurrent of seriousness that makes me turn to face her. “There’s something I never told you, not even in those emails.”
Curious, I tilt my head. “Yeah?”
She bites her lip, a nervous habit I remember all too well. Then, with a deep breath, she says, “I had a crush on you. Back in college.”
Her eyes meet mine, holding a glint of vulnerability. “Remember that party? Senior year? I always wished… we’d actually kissed that night.”
My heart stutters in my chest, tripping over itself like it’s forgotten how to keep a steady rhythm. The memory of that night floods back — a chaotic mix of laughter, dim lights, and the heat of bodies moving to the music. How her lips were inches from mine before I panicked and pulled away.
“Really?” It’s all I can manage, my brain short-circuiting at the revelation.
“Really,” she confirms softly, her gaze not wavering.
I’m floored. That night is etched into my memory, a “what if” that haunted me through countless board meetings and sleepless nights. Is it possible she still likes me? After all this time?
“Oliver?” she probes gently, looking for a sign, any indication of what’s going through my mind.
I search her face, the familiar lines and the new ones that tell stories of years spent apart. There’s a determination there, the same one that must’ve carried her through law school and into the courtroom. And yet, there’s a softness, an openness that wasn’t there before — or maybe I just didn’t notice it, too caught up in my own world of deadlines and deals.
“God, Nora, I—” My voice falters as the magnitude of what she’s just shared sinks in. “I don’t know what to say.”
“Say you remember it,” she urges quietly. “That night, us almost kissing… Tell me it crossed your mind, even once, after that.”
“Of course, I remember.” I step closer, closing the gap between us. “How could I forget?” I confess, my voice barely above a murmur. “You were — and clearly still are — unforgettable.”
“Oliver,” she whispers, stepping into me, her hand finding its way to my chest, resting over my racing heart. “Tell me, do you?—”
“Yes,” I say, cutting her off. Because if I don’t say it now, I might never get the chance again. “Yes, I’ve thought about it. More times than I can count. You’ve been this… this force in my life, Nora. Even when you weren’t there.”
“Even when I wasn’t there,” she echoes, her eyes shining with unshed tears.
“Especially then,” I admit, and the space between us disappears completely as we come together, bound by confessions eight years in the making.
We kiss, and it’s like coming home after being lost for far too long. It’s tender yet passionate, a confluence of all the moments we missed out on, all the touches we never shared. Our bodies move together, a dance that’s both new and achingly familiar. There’s no going back now, no untangling of our lives. We are here, on this rooftop, making up for lost time.
As we come apart just enough to catch our breath, I can’t believe my luck, can’t believe who I’m with — the woman who always had the blueprint for my soul.
“Stay with me,” I murmur against her lips, and she nods, her eyes reflecting the same desire that’s consuming me.
“Yes,” she promises, and as we come together once more, it’s like the years apart just drop away.
We are no longer two separate entities. Now, we are a single force, intertwined by passion and sealed by the promise of tomorrow.