SEVENTEEN
OLIVIA
Neither of us moves for a long time after Julian ends the call. The screen of his phone goes black on the counter between us, but the words won’t stop echoing. He murdered them. Three years ago. Person of interest.
I press my hand flat against my stomach. It is pure instinct, a desperate need to find something safe inside this room.
“He killed his parents,” I say, mostly to hear it out loud, to see if it sounds any less impossible the second time. It doesn’t.
Julian doesn’t answer right away. He just pulls me against his chest. His heartbeat hammers hard against my cheek.
The warehouse flashes in my mind. The flat, dead calm in Kieran’s expression when he talked about his family.
The way his voice went strange and far away for just a second, before he caught himself and turned it back into something else.
I didn’t understand it then. I’m not sure I understand it now.
But something about that moment was wrong in a way that had nothing to do with Julian.
“I want to feel relieved,” I whisper. “And I do. I just feel something else too. I don’t even know what to call it.”
“I know,” Julian murmurs against my hair. “Me too.”
He holds me close, his grip the only solid thing left in the room. We stay like that until the room goes dark around us.
~~~~~~~~~~
Three Weeks Later
Julian’s shoulder is mostly healed, and my bruises have faded to faint yellow marks, the cut on my head narrowed to a thin pink line.
I stare out at the endless green peaks, still unable to believe Julian surprised me with a week-long holiday out here in the Blue Ridge Mountains. He decided we needed a break the moment the nightmare was finally over, booking a private jet two days after Detective Reyes called us with the news.
We found him.
Those three words had instantly broken the suffocating tension in the penthouse, but the true shock arrived the next day when the full story broke.
The image of the TV screen from that morning is burned into my mind.
Julian and I had stood side by side in the living room, watching the breaking news alert flash across the screen.
The broadcast showed live footage of a secluded, overgrown property in New Jersey.
Armed federal agents and state police surrounded the property, forcing their way inside the old house. Then came the shot of Kieran.
They led him out in handcuffs, his head bowed, his face shadowed, stripped of all the terrifying power he claimed to hold over us.
The news anchor’s voice had been cold as she announced that the Walsh double homicide case from three years ago had been officially reopened, and that Kieran was the prime suspect in the murder of his own parents.
Seeing him shoved into the back of a police cruiser made the nightmare finally real. It was over.
That’s when Julian decided we needed a break.
The Blue Ridge Mountains have become my favorite place in the world.
The moment we arrived at the estate, the tension I didn’t even realize I was carrying began to loosen.
The mountains stretch endlessly beyond the property. The air smells clean. Fresh. Peaceful. It is nothing like Manhattan. Nothing like police investigations. Nothing like hospitals. Nothing like fear.
For the first time in weeks, I feel like I can finally breathe.
Kieran is gone. The arrest happened, and the evidence the police gathered was overwhelming. The masks. The kidnapping. The crash. Everything finally caught up to him. And now he’s sitting in a jail cell waiting for trial. He’s far away from us. Far away from our baby.
The thought still brings a massive wave of relief.
Julian slides his hand into mine as we sit on the deck, looking over at the mountains and the beauty of it. His thumb brushes across my knuckles, warm and reassuring.
“You okay?”
I look up at him. The concern is still there in his dark eyes, alongside that fierce protectiveness. I don’t think that will ever leave him.
I smile, letting the warmth of his hand ground me. “I’m perfect.”
His eyes soften, the hard lines of his jaw relaxing. “Good.”
The rest of the afternoon passes quietly. We eat lunch on the deck overlooking the mountains. We talk about the baby, argue over potential baby names, and laugh more than we have in weeks. It is normal. Everything feels normal again.
By evening, the sky begins to glow with shades of gold and orange. The setting sun paints the rugged mountain peaks in warm light. I stand in front of the bedroom mirror, running a brush through my hair as I get ready for the dinner Julian mentioned earlier.
Julian appears in the bedroom doorway, looking incredibly handsome in black dress pants and a crisp white shirt with the sleeves rolled up at his forearms. He isn’t wearing a tie, nothing too fancy. But the mere sight of him still makes my heart stumble.
I pull on a beautiful, green casual dress that flows softly around my legs, smoothing down the fabric before turning to look at him.
“Come with me,” he says, stepping into the room.
I smile, setting down my hairbrush on the vanity. “Where? I thought we were heading down to the dining room.”
“It’s a surprise.”
I narrow my eyes at him. “I don’t trust that smile.”
His grin widens. “You should.”
“That’s exactly what someone says before they do something suspicious.”
He laughs, and the sound warms something deep inside me. Then he offers his hand.
“Come on.”
Curiosity wins.
I slip my hand into his, and he leads me outside, bypassing the main dining area. We head down a winding stone path I don’t remember seeing before. The estate grounds stretch beautifully around us. There are tall trees, crisp mountain air, and the distant sound of birds settling for the night.
Then we round a stone corner, and I stop in my tracks. The whole world goes quiet for a second.
“Oh my goodness.” My hand flies to my mouth as I take in the scene in front of me.
A beautiful wooden structure with a thatched roof stands right at the edge of the steep mountain overlook.
Soft candlelight glows along the stone pathway, and hundreds of tiny lights are woven through the branches of the surrounding trees.
Underneath the thatch, a small table is set beautifully for two, glowing with candlelight, polished silverware, and delicate arrangements of white lilies.
The entire scene looks like something out of a dream. Tears instantly sting my eyes.
“Julian.”
His hand tightens around mine. I can barely take it all in. The mountains stretch endlessly beyond the overlook, the sun hanging low on the horizon, painting the entire sky gold.
“It’s beautiful.”
His gaze never leaves my face. “No,” his voice is quiet, thick with emotion. “You’re beautiful.”
My heart squeezes tightly. I turn toward him, a single tear slipping down my cheek.
Then I notice something resting right there on the beautifully decorated table, sitting under the soft glow of the candles. It is a framed photograph.
I let go of his hand and walk over to the table, my fingers trembling as I reach out to touch the frame. It is the ultrasound picture. The very first picture of our baby.
Emotion crashes through me so hard I can barely breathe. When I look back at Julian, he’s no longer standing behind me. He’s down on one knee.
My hands immediately fly to my mouth. The world disappears. The mountains, the candles, the flowers, everything fades away. All I see is him. His eyes shine in the fading sunlight. For a moment, neither of us speaks.
Then he reaches for my hand, the one thing grounding him, the one thing grounding me. His fingers wrap around mine.
“Olivia.”
My throat closes up, and another tear slips free.
“I spent years believing I was beyond saving,” his voice is rough, completely honest, and raw. “You knew exactly who I was.” His thumb brushes across my knuckles again.
“You knew every mistake.”
I shake my head, already crying, unable to find my words. Julian continues, his gaze locked onto mine.
“And somehow you loved me anyway.”
My chest aches, but it is the good kind of ache. The kind that comes from loving someone so much it hurts.
“You gave me a second chance when I deserved none.” A small sob escapes me. His own eyes glisten with unshed tears.
“You gave me a family.” His gaze drops briefly to my stomach before returning to mine.
“You gave me a future.”
The tears won’t stop now, and neither of us tries to wipe them away.
“I spent the last nine years regretting every single decision I made when we were in school,” his voice breaks slightly, the vulnerability tearing through me.
“I hurt you, Olivia. I carry the burden of what I did every single day, and I will carry it with me for the rest of my life.”
The mountains disappear behind my tears. The candles blur into soft halos of light. Only Julian remains.
“For you to look at the man I was, to know every mistake I made, and still give me a second chance...” His voice drops to a rough whisper, his grip tightening on my hand.
“It is the absolute best thing that has ever happened to me.”
“None of the past matters anymore,” he continues, his gaze thick with emotion. “You matter. Our baby matters. You saved my life, Olivia.”
My hand trembles in his.
“I want to spend the rest of my life earning that gift.” He reaches into his pocket, and a small velvet box appears. He opens it, and inside rests a beautiful diamond ring. It is elegant, simple, and perfect. It isn’t oversized or flashy. It is just beautiful. Just us.
“Will you marry me?”
The question breaks whatever remains of my composure. I nod so hard it almost hurts.
“Yes.” A wet laugh escapes me through my tears. “Yes.”
Julian’s eyes close briefly, a look of profound relief washing across his face. I grab his shoulders, pulling myself closer to him. “Yes. A thousand times yes.”
The smile that spreads across his face is the most beautiful thing I have ever seen. Slowly, carefully, he slides the ring onto my finger. It fits perfectly.
Then he rises to his feet, his hands framing my face. My fingers curl tightly into his shirt. And then he kisses me.
It is soft at first, tender, like I’m something precious, something worth protecting. His lips are warm and slightly chapped and perfect against mine. I can taste the salt of his tears, or maybe they’re mine. I cannot tell anymore. We are sharing everything now.
Then the kiss deepens, and the mountains disappear. The world disappears. There is only us, only this single moment, and only the future waiting for us.
His thumbs brush along my jaw, his fingers sliding into my hair, cradling my head like he’s holding something sacred.
I rise onto my toes to meet him better, my hands moving from his shoulders to his neck, my fingers finding the soft hair at his nape.
He makes a sound against my mouth, something broken and grateful, and I feel it in my chest.
The kiss turns deeper. His tongue touches mine, gentle at first, then with more certainty, more hunger. I open for him. There is no part of me that is closed off anymore. I give him everything. The past, the present, the future growing inside me. All of it belongs to him now.
I feel the new weight of the ring on my finger, cool and solid, and I press my left hand against his chest, over his heart.
It beats fast and hard against my palm, matching my own.
He feels it too. He breaks the kiss only to press his forehead against mine, his breath coming in ragged bursts that fan across my wet cheeks.
“Olivia,” he whispers, and my name has never sounded like that before. Like a prayer. Like a promise.
I pull him back down to me. I kiss him this time, rising up to meet him, threading my fingers through his hair to hold him in place.
He responds instantly, his arms wrapping around my waist, lifting me slightly off my feet so we fit together better.
I’m wearing heels but he’s still taller, still broader, still strong enough to hold me like I weigh nothing.
His mouth moves to my jaw, my throat, the sensitive spot below my ear that makes my knees weak.
I gasp and clutch at him, and he returns to my mouth with renewed urgency.
The kiss becomes endless. We angle our heads, searching for better fit, deeper contact.
My hands slide down his chest, feeling the muscle and heat through his shirt, then back up to grip his shoulders.
He slows down again, gentling the kiss, turning it into something devastatingly sweet. Small kisses, lingering presses of his lips to mine, pulling back just enough to look at me, then diving back in. I feel cherished. I feel wanted. I feel loved down to my bones.
I think of the baby inside me, the family we’re becoming. The tears start again, happy tears, and he kisses them away from my cheeks, my eyelids, the corners of my mouth.
“I love you,” he says against my lips.
“I love you,” I answer, and I kiss him again to prove it.
We stand there in the candlelight with the mountains watching, kissing until my lips are swollen and my breath is gone and my heart is so full it might burst. He holds me like he will never let go. I pray he never does.
Julian gently wipes the remaining tears from my cheeks before leading me under the thatched roof.
He pulls out a chair for me, making sure I’m comfortable before sitting across from me.
The moment we settle in, two servers slip quietly onto the deck, appearing from the main house with silver-domed platters.
They move with effortless grace, setting down a beautiful, nourishing dinner.
Because of the pregnancy, Julian clearly took extra care with the menu.
It is a perfectly roasted, herb-crusted chicken breast drizzled with a rich lemon-garlic reduction, served over a bed of creamy saffron risotto and tender roasted asparagus.
Beside my plate, a crisp, non-alcoholic sparkling apple cider bubbles beautifully in my champagne flute.
The servers disappear back into the main house as quickly as they arrived, leaving us alone in our own private world.
We toast to our future, the crystal clinking softly beneath the stars. Every bite tastes like peace. Every laugh shared between us over the candlelight chips away the last remnants of the terror we left behind in Manhattan.
As the night deepens, Julian wraps his jacket around my shoulders to protect me from the chill of the mountain breeze.
I lean back against his chest, looking out at the dark silhouette of the peaks against a sky bursting with stars.
I place one hand over my stomach, and Julian instantly rests his larger, warm hand right over mine.
The nightmare is over. The man who tried to destroy us is behind bars, and the man who once broke my heart is the one who healed it. For the first time in a very long time, that future doesn’t just feel bright. It feels real. And it belongs to us.