42. Chapter 42 #4
“The second thing I learned is that every person who has walked in my life during my time living here in London, has been for a reason, that out of all the signs I’ve received, you were the most important one, Luna,” he reveals with heavy heart, intertwining our fingers, resting them on his thigh and from those words alone, I’m putty in his hands.
“Before you came into my life, I was convinced that taking on as many pro bono cases as I could, being a corporate lawyer and a father, would keep me so busy there wouldn’t be time to think of what I was missing, that it would evidently drive me to an early grave, because that’s all I deserved.
But it was you who taught me there was always another way to do things.
” Oliver laughs softly, reaching behind him… to reveal my Dream Diary.
In all its mint green glory, I stare at it in surprise.
I’ve been looking for this everywhere. I thought I lost it during the rush of leaving all those months ago…
but he had it all along. With a gentle smile, he places it in my lap.
I slowly slip my hand out of his and look down to flick through it, while Oliver continues to talk.
“I found this during the move when I realised you weren’t coming back. I planned on returning it right away, but forgive me,” he pleads, reaching up to rub the back of his neck.
“I’d always been curious about what you wrote in here, and after you’d left without saying goodbye, I thought looking in it would give me some answers. I’m sorry for invading your privacy, but I am glad I read it,” he smirks, nudging his knee with mine.
“Although I know you were unsure what your ultimate dream was, I made sure to incorporate every single one of your ideas,” he hints.
When realisation washes over me, I rapidly flick through the pages, from the beginning again.
Tears form in my eyes looking up at Oliver; he’d brought to life every single thing I’d written down.
The ideas I’d written down on a random Tuesday in his living room or late at night.
He’d paid attention to every single one…
my mind reels back to everything I’d seen in this building today, and it all tied together perfectly.
Granted, he only had a few pages to go on as I’d barely used this Diary since moving to Oliver’s place, apart from…
Wait.
I quickly flick to the back of the diary again, and Ji-ji’s statue outside comes to mind.
I release a slow, deep breath as I trace my fingers over the same date I wrote and received this book.
In the heat of losing Ji-ji and Gran getting injured, I’d only just remembered.
How I’d hidden away in their room during the wake, because it still smelled like him…
How hard I sobbed quietly on the floor when I noticed a small paper bag sticking out from under their bed.
When I pulled it out, this notebook was in it.
My name was written on the front in Ji-Ji’s handwriting.
Achieving my dream, wanting to do something to help the children of the word is something I put on hold after Ji-ji’s death, and my family needed me. But while still surrounded by the essence of him, seeing his handwriting, the memory of him compelled me to write these words.
A few weeks passed before Gran finally told me, while we were watching a K-drama together back when she was healing from her broken hip, that Ji-ji had brought me the Diary on his way back from the store.
Stating that it was for my big head of ideas, since I’d always call him to tell him about the new bunch of ideas that popped into my head.
I balled that day in Gran’s lap and never touched the Diary again, until the day I moved into Oliver’s place.
More tears fall now, and I barely register that Oliver tugs me into his chest, holding me while I sob.
But I couldn’t fight it. How could I forget that?
How could I have almost lost the last thing my precious Ji-ji got me moments before he left this world?
I stare helplessly down at the green scrunchie on my wrist, the one I never left the house without - yet another gift from Ji-ji.
H-Hold on a second…
My misty gaze glances from the colour of my Diary, the scrunchie, the walls in here and downstairs, all the way to the sign outside the building.
“I made sure everything important was painted that colour, because according to your Gran, it’s yours and your grandfather’s favourite colour,” Oliver confirms, gently tucking a loose curl behind my ear, swiping a tear from my cheek.
“I’m sorry the building isn’t complete yet, but I’m hoping the same way you can make this office your own, and that you’ll help me finish the rest,” he offers, opening my journal back up to point out one of the bullet points.
“The counselling floor isn’t fully furnished yet; a lot of it ended up being back-ordered, and I got too impatient, wanting to get back to you, but we can go see it so far on our way down if you want,” he mentions, before flicking to another page.
“And, here where you mentioned coming up with other kinds of support, to the right of the main reception is a medical centre where I have a waiting list of licensed GPs eager for the job. That way, the families who come here and the children from the home no longer need to travel far to get medical assistance.” Oliver continues, turning another page, but his eyes never leave mine.
“And lastly, the entire fifth floor has been left blank, just in case you think of something else we could add to the centre. So plenty of room for you to hash out new ideas, then when you’re ready to tackle that, you let me know.” He pauses to smile at me.
“I also took the initiative of adding a gym and indoor pool at the back of the building, on the ground floor. The land was a lot bigger than I expected, so after talking with Tracy back and forth, she agreed to let us connect the back of the care home. That’ll make the garden a whole lot bigger for the kids.
We’ve also spoken about letting the kids live here temporarily while we do up the care home nex-”
I don’t let him finish.
Leaping forward to crash my lips onto his, desperate, trembling, unable to bear another second of this space between us. My tears salt the kiss, though he doesn’t mind one bit. Tugging me closer, Oliver kisses me back equally starved.
It’s brief, almost frantic, but there isn’t a single part of me that doubts him…
doubts us, which is why I pour it all into the kiss - the hurt, the longing, the hope.
Everything I’ve carried with me for months straight into him.
We fit together instantly, like we were never apart and for a single heartbeat, I swear the world just… stops.
Then slams back into motion, jolting to life in my chest, in his and in the place where we reunite. I gently pull away, though Oliver is reluctant to allow it - he does. In turn, I rest my forehead against his and let out a breathless sob.
“Don’t cry, baby.” He murmurs, his own voice catching in response. His soft plea, the tone he’s only ever used with me alone, makes me cry more.
Oliver doesn’t waste another second, scooping me up and lifting me into his lap. My legs straddle his waist, and he tucks my head to rest in his neck. The room then falls silent aside from my sniffles.
“Oh god, I missed this, missed you, il mio tutto,” he exhales, wrapping his arms tighter around me, gently running his hand up and down my back to soothe my sobs.
“I can’t believe you did all of this,” I mumble against his skin.
“This is only phase two,” he replies with a slight laugh, then coaxes my head out of his neck and rubs the tip of his nose against mine, making me giggle.
“How many stages are there? cause I think we’ve established that I’ve already crumbled after two.” I ask, gazing into his eyes as he tips his head back to playfully nip my nose.
“It’s a secret,” he teases, wiping away the last of my tears and trailing his hands down to give my thighs a squeeze, code for me to climb off him, cause there’s more to see.
I whine in protest, but realise by glancing at the clock on the wall, we have been in here for quite some time. Crying like a baby in his lap, though I don’t know what more he could show me at this point. I pout, climbing off him as he does, adjusting his slacks as he does.
“Don’t look at me like that, unless you want me to lock that door and have my way with you - like I’ve yearned to do for months now.” He warns, pinching my chin. Willing heat to my flushed cheeks, as he offers a kiss to my temple and guides me out of the office and back towards the lift.