Chapter 28 #2
“Amelia…” I start, stepping closer.
“No matter what I do, no matter how hard I try to be good enough… I’m not.
” Her voice cracks, and with it, so does my heart.
The pain in her words cuts through me like a knife, and I feel a surge of protective anger rising within me—anger that she’s feeling this way, that someone has made her believe this lie.
I step forward, unable to keep the distance between us any longer.
I press her gently but firmly against the tree with my hip, gripping her chin with the hand that’s holding Peanut’s leash, guiding her to look at me.
My other hand cradles the back of her head, ensuring she doesn’t hit the rough bark.
She gasps, her eyes widening in surprise before she averts her gaze, unable or unwilling to meet mine.
“Princess, look at me,” I prompt, trying to coax her out of the dark place she’s in.
She breathes out deeply, but instead of meeting my eyes, she closes hers, retreating further into herself.
“Do you want me to make you look at me?” I ask as I tilt her chin up.
She finally meets my gaze, and the teary-eyed blue storm in her eyes almost breaks my heart all over again.
“You’re absolutely none of the cruel, mean things you tell yourself.
I see you, Amelia,” I whisper. “I see all of you. The brilliant, beautiful, strong woman you are.”
She huffs bitterly, the sound filled with disbelief and self-doubt. “He said it’s not me. Isn’t that the universal excuse? The thing you say so you don’t hurt someone’s feelings? But it always means it absolutely is you.”
My grip on her chin tightens just a fraction, trying to ground her, to make her hear me. “He said it’s not you because it’s not you. Everyone who spends more than a few minutes in your presence knows that. Misha hurt you because he is a good person, a good friend.”
I see confusion and pain in her eyes, a storm of feelings she’s struggling to keep in. My heart aches for her, for the way she’s hurting, and for the part I play in it. The urge to pull her into my arms, to protect her from everything, including myself, is almost overwhelming. But I hold back.
“I’ve realized over the last few weeks that I am not a good man, Amelia. Because if you tried to kiss me…” I lean in closer, feeling the warmth of her breath against my lips, “… I wouldn’t have the strength to sto—”
My phone rings, cutting through the tension.
Fuck.
It’s that distinctive, annoying ringtone Misha assigned himself.
He wouldn’t call right now unless it were important.
I search Amelia’s face, and she gives me a slight nod. “Take it.”
Reluctantly, I answer the call, still close to Amelia, my thumb stroking her cheek, my eyes not leaving hers. “Yes?”
“Grey, man, I’m sorry, but you have to get home. Code black.”
What the…
Code black is a major security threat—cyberattacks, unauthorized access, the kind of thing we’ve prepared for but hoped never to face.
I lean away from the tree, still holding Amelia’s gaze, unwilling to let her go just yet.
“What the fuck do you mean, code black? Who the hell would hack us while we’re not even online? ”
“It’s Oliver. I have no idea what he’s doing, but I think he’s freaking out.
He’s locked himself in his room with his laptop, and I think he’s trying to delete Jamie.
I’m not good enough to stop him. I’m trying to push him out, but he’s faster than I am,” Misha grits out, and I can hear him typing furiously on the other end.
“What do you mean he’s trying to delete him?”
The shock hits me like a punch to the gut. Oliver?
“Grey, get the fuck home… now. I can’t keep him out much longer,” Misha’s voice is laced with desperation, and it’s clear this is spiraling out of control.
Jesus.
I prepared for every threat but not for one from the inside.
I search Amelia’s face again, feeling torn between the urgency of the situation and the need to stay with her. Her eyes meet mine, filled with understanding, and she whispers, “Go.”
“Coming. I just need to bring Peanut—”
Amelia interrupts, “I can do that.” She sees my hesitation and adds, “It sounds important. I can manage Peanut.”
“On my way.” I hang up on Misha and kiss Amelia on the cheek. “Thank you, Princess.” Handing her the leash, I add, “Be good, both of you.”
With a final glance at Peanut, I turn and sprint toward home, my mind focused on stopping Oliver before it’s too late.
A few minutes later, I burst into the apartment, panting, heart pounding, and find Misha in the office. “Where is he?” I ask, breathless.
“In his room,” Misha replies, frustration evident in his voice.
“Why aren’t you trying to keep him from the keyboard?” I gasp, still catching my breath.
“He locked himself in! I told you,” Misha says, exasperated, his gaze not leaving the screen in front of him. He’s doing everything he can, but I can tell it’s not enough.
I don’t waste any more time. Without another word, I head to the kitchen, my mind racing.
I grab the universal key I’d hidden there for emergencies, my fingers shaking slightly as I fumble with it while I hurry to Oliver’s room.
Unlocking the door, I find him hunched over his desk, his laptop open.
I stride over and grab the back of his chair, yanking it away from the desk with a force that surprises even me.
I step between him and the desk, planting myself firmly in front of him, my arms crossed over my chest.
I need to be a physical barrier, the last line of defense against whatever he’s trying to do, because let’s be real. If he really wanted to delete the AI he invented, there is no way I could stop him.
Oliver is brilliant, and I have yet to find anyone who can match his skill.
“What the fuck do you think you’re doing?” I demand, not caring how harsh it came out. The stakes are too high, and I need to get through to him.
Oliver’s head snaps up, his eyes blazing with a mix of anger and pain that cuts right through me. “Jamie ruined my fucking life,” he snaps, the words laced with a bitterness that I’ve never seen in him before.
“That’s not true,” I counter.
“It is true. Before all this shit happened, I knew I couldn’t have her, but at least I could have her from afar. Now she’s in love with him, and he’s in love with her. And you’re in love with her. Everybody’s in fucking love with her! Probably Jamie too.”
“Jamie is an algorithm. He can’t be in love.”
“I fucking know that, Grey! I wrote that algorithm. But it’s funny how you defend Jamie not being in love with her, but not that I said you were.”
Here we go, the moment I dreaded. I slowly step to the side, out from between him and the desk, but I keep my arms crossed and my gaze steady on him.
“Because it’s true,” I admit, my voice steady even though my insides are churning.
“I am in love with her, and I would bet my watch that Misha is too. And honestly, Oliver, Misha is a better friend than I am because if I had been the one she tried to kiss, I would have kissed her, and I just told her as much.”
Oliver’s eyes widen, the shock and hurt evident on his face.
For a moment, time seems to stand still, and I can’t tell if what I’m feeling is guilt or dread.
Maybe it’s both. The weight of my confession hangs in the air, thick and suffocating, and I can see the gears turning in his mind as he tries to process what I’ve just said.
The door creaks, and Misha hobbles into the room, his expression distraught and filled with regret. “I’m so freaking sorry, Ollie,” he says, his voice cracking with emotion. “I never meant for that to happen, but… fuck… I’m in love with her too.”
Even though it’s not a surprise, hearing him say it out loud still stings. It’s like a knife twisting in an already deep wound, and I can see that it’s hurting Oliver just as much, if not more.
“So we all want her,” I say, the words heavy as they leave my mouth. The truth settles over us like a dark cloud.
Oliver sighs, the sound filled with a mix of defeat and exhaustion. “And she wants all of us.”
“Wait, what?” I ask, stunned.
What the fuck did I miss?
“She talked to Jamie about it. She has a crush on all of us,” Oliver explains.
I knew what I saw in her eyes and felt in her touch wasn’t just my imagination.
“Well, Ollie, that means she has one on you, too,” Misha points out, trying to find a silver lining in the mess we’ve found ourselves in.
Right.
“And still, she tried to kiss you. She said she couldn’t decide. Looks like she just did,” Oliver says bitterly.
“She did not,” I argue. There’s a part of me that refuses to believe it, that refuses to accept that she’s made her choice because if she has, what does that mean for the rest of us?
Misha sighs, rubbing his face with both hands, clearly struggling to find the right words. “And now what? Because, damn, rejecting her was the hardest thing I’ve ever done.”
“I never said you couldn’t have her,” Oliver mutters.
“No, but I know I’ll lose you if I do. Maybe him too.” Misha nods toward me.
Oliver shrugs, looking lost. His shoulders slump as he runs a hand through his hair.
“What, is that an ultimatum?” I ask, frustration boiling over. “Her or our family? If you can’t have her, nobody can?”
Oliver shakes his head. “I never said that either! I just… I have no idea if I can live this close and be this close to you when you’re having all I ever wanted, and I don’t. I don’t want to keep her from you, but I may have to keep myself away for my own sake.”
I feel my throat closing up.
This really could be it…
I can’t lose them.
None of them.
“So lose her or lose our family. It feels like a lose-lose,” Misha speaks out what I’m thinking.
“Not to mention that she would lose two people too. And she needs all of us,” I add.
She would lose just as much as we would.
Oliver looks up, eyes filled with anguish. “And every one of us needs her.”
“We can’t just push her aside now because of our feelings,” Misha agrees. “We could just… all be friends. Step back for the sake of the family. Have her in this family, but not more. Not even you, Oliver.”
Oliver bangs his head against the desk, and I’m tempted to join in.
I don’t know if I can step back, but it’s the best solution we can find for now.
I need time to think of something better.
We’ll have to figure out what we can do to make her happy. She is what’s important.
I never want to see that look on her face again or hear those words. “I’m never good enough.”
I nod and repeat, “Friends, for our family’s sake and hers.”
Oliver leans back in his chair, looking exhausted but somewhat relieved. Misha nods, though the pain in his eyes is still evident.
This feels like a disaster waiting to happen, but it’s the only way forward.
For now, at least.