Chapter 19
Nineteen
ZAHRA
The final shot—a staged candid of the bridesmaids laughing around Parisa—was finally done. I sighed with relief as Elena announced she had what she needed, letting my professional smile slip for just a moment.
Emotions were attacking me from every direction—fear, desire, longing, panic, determination—like I was standing in a crossfire of my own creation.
I scanned the garden, immediately noting Ryan's location.
He'd been circling closer all afternoon, a predator patiently waiting for an opening.
Then I realized Oliver was nowhere to be seen.
He'd been my constant shadow all day, appearing whenever Ryan drifted too close, a buffer I had insisted was unnecessary, but was now grateful for.
And now he was gone.
Ryan spotted me, his eyes lighting with recognition. He excused himself from Darryl's cousins and started making his way toward me, purpose in his stride.
My pulse quickened. I had to move.
Thankfully, Darryl waved Ryan over to show him something on his phone. It wouldn't hold him long, but it gave me an opening.
Without hesitation, I slipped behind a hedge of climbing roses, following a narrow stone path that led to a secluded section of the garden. The hum of voices faded into a distant murmur the deeper I walked, until it was gone entirely.
Peace and quiet .
I rounded a corner, and there he was.
Oliver stood with his back to me, phone pressed to his ear, silhouette framed by wisteria draping from a wooden pergola. His posture was relaxed, head slightly bowed, voice tender in a way I'd only heard in our most intimate moments.
"I know, Quark. I'm trying..." A pause, then a soft laugh. "Yeah, that's exactly what I said." Another pause. "No, don't worry about it. I'll be back soon."
His gentle tone when talking to Emmet made my heart flutter. Not Professor Beck discussing research with a colleague, not Oliver the fake boyfriend performing for an audience. Just a person speaking to someone he loved.
He turned slightly, still unaware of my presence, and his face transformed with a smile so unguarded it made my chest ache.
I’d never seen him like that, calm and easy. As if, for once, he wasn’t bracing for impact.
Not with me. Not even before .
And the worst part? I wasn’t sure he ever would.
"Listen, I've got to go, but I'll call tomorrow.” Another pause, another warmth-filled chuckle. “Yeah, you too. Bye."
He pocketed his phone and turned, and the second he saw me, the warmth in his expression disappeared. Like a door slamming shut. A sharp pang struck behind my ribs.
He didn’t have a smile for me. Not anymore. Not unless it was part of an act.
"Sorry," I said quickly. "I didn't mean to eavesdrop. I was..." I trailed off, unsure how to explain I was hiding from Ryan without sounding pathetic. “I needed a breather and somehow found you.”
Oliver's expression softened slightly. "It's fine."
I fidgeted with my tablet, suddenly hyper-aware of the space between us. This was the first time we'd been truly alone since last night. Since clothes had been torn off, since whispered pleas had filled the darkness, since I'd woken up tangled in his arms and fled like a coward.
"How's Emmet?" I finally asked, playing it safe.
"Good." Oliver broke into an incredulous smile. "He seems to be doing fine without me, honestly."
I couldn't help but smile in return, but it faltered as awkward silence stretched between us. Now was the time. Now was when I should say something about last night, about what it meant, about what happened next. But the words stuck in my throat.
"So..." I took a bracing breath. "Thank you for today. You’re a lifesaver."
"Part of the contract." Oliver shrugged, but there was a warmth in his eyes that wasn't there a minute ago. "Buffer services available twenty-four-seven."
My lips quirked up. "Was last night part of the contract, too?"
His startled snort sounded almost rusty, like he wasn't expecting to be amused. "Actually, it's technically a violation of our contract."
"Does that mean I don't have to pay you?" The words slipped out before I could stop them.
His surprised bark of laughter broke the tension. The absurdity of our situation suddenly hit me, and I found myself giggling. Soon we were both laughing, the strained atmosphere dissolving around us.
"We should probably talk about it, though," I said when we calmed down, feeling lighter than I had all day.
"Probably." Oliver ran a hand through his hair, a nervous gesture I had started to recognize. "Look, what happened...” He took a step forward, hands tucked in his pockets. “We need to draw some new lines.”
"Yeah.” I nodded firmly, ignoring how my skin still tingled where he had touched me last night. “Keep things professional going forward."
His relief was palpable. "Absolutely. Professional."
"What happens in Norman stays in Norman?"
"Exactly." His smile looked almost real. "We're both adults. We can handle this."
I smiled back, but it was forced. My eyes dropped to my tablet, and I tucked a strand behind my ear. “Do you wish it hadn’t happened?”
Oliver froze, eyes darting across my face, gaze unreadable as he searched for…something.
Then, another step closer. “I don't regret what happened, Zahra. It was…”
“Life changing?” I offered, half joking, half hoping I wasn’t the only one who felt my world shift on its axis.
“Unexpectedly so,” Oliver whispered. “A stellar collision."
We stared at each other. I didn't realize how close we’d gotten until it was too late, until we were so close we were drifting inevitably closer, the space between us shrinking with each heartbeat.
“What happens at a stellar collision?” I asked, breath bated as I waited for his answer.
Oliver had that look in his eyes again, the one from last night—dark and hungry and focused entirely on me.
“Two stars merge, creating something new and often more powerful.” His voice was low, dangerously tempting. He was so close I felt the heat radiating off = him, and I wasn't sure I had the strength to stop him if he leaned in—wasn't sure I wanted to.
"Zahra!"
My aunt’s voice cut through the moment like a razor-sharp blade. I took an instinctive step back as she appeared at the garden entrance, her disapproval like toxic radiation.
"Running off to play with your boyfriend in the middle of the shoots?" The way she said “play,” layered with insinuation, made my cheeks burn. "Just because this is your cousin's wedding doesn't mean you're allowed to get sloppy with your professional duties."
My heart raced, not from Oliver's proximity but from the implications of her words, the unfiltered disdain and degradation.
“The shoot is over, Auntie,” I said, turning to her, placing myself between her venom and Oliver as if I could protect him. “We were taking a short break.”
“There is no we when you’re on duty,” she hissed. “Only them—Parisa and Darryl, the bride and groom. You, Zahra, are background, and he —” she said, pointing a sharp, pink fingernail at Oliver “—isn’t part of the wedding party. He shouldn’t be here.”
Oliver tensed at my back, his fingers coming to rest on the small of it, as if I were the one who needed support.
"I should go," I whispered, and Oliver solemnly nodded.
I started to leave, then remembered something. I reached into my pocket, fingers closing around the small object I'd been carrying since this morning.
"Here." I opened my palm, revealing the pearl button I'd picked up from our hotel room floor.
Oliver took the button from my hand and stared at it, his expression unreadable. He didn't move. Didn't speak. Just turned it over once, twice, rolling it between his fingers like he was memorizing the weight of it.
His jaw flexed, muscle ticking under the strain.
Like he hated that I’d kept it.
Like he hated what it meant.
Like he hated that he couldn’t bring himself to hand it back.
The silence stretched, thick with unspoken words, and then he broke it. "You kept it?"
I hesitated. "I found it in the hallway. I figured you might need it."
He looked up at me, something dark flickering behind his gaze. "You should have thrown it away."
I swallowed. I should have. But I didn't. And we both knew why.
"Zahra!" My aunt called again, impatience sharpening her tone.
"Coming!" I called back, then turned to Oliver. "I'll see you back at the hotel."
He nodded, still rolling the button between his fingers, looking thoughtful and distant.
I walked away, following my aunt back to the main garden. Then I made the mistake of glancing over my shoulder. Oliver was still rooted to his spot, eyes still intent on the memento I’d kept tucked away all day, face still blank.
We'd addressed what happened between us. We'd acknowledged it, set new boundaries, and decided to move forward as adults, but was it enough?
I snapped my head forward, looking away. It had to be enough.
The contract was still in place. Our arrangement still intact. We could maintain the professional relationship we both needed while preserving the fragile trust that had begun to grow between us.
And if my skin still hummed with awareness when he was near, if my thoughts still drifted to the feel of his hands on my body, well—that was my problem to manage. Not his.
What happened in Norman stayed in Norman .
I just had to keep repeating it until I believed it. Until it stopped feeling like a lie.