Chapter 25
Chapter Twenty-Five
The kettle clicked off just as the bathroom door closed behind Oliver.
I wrapped my hands around the mugs, letting the warmth soak into my palms. The flat felt different this morning, still, quiet, heavy with everything that had happened in the hours before dawn.
My dress lay crumpled over the arm of the sofa.
The fairy lights glowed faintly in the pale morning, their soft gold reflecting off the hardwood floor.
Part of me wanted to sit and replay every moment of the night. Another part wanted to run. My heartbeat fluttered somewhere between the two.
I turned toward the counter to fetch sugar, my bare feet cold against the floorboards, when Oliver’s phone buzzed on the little table near the door. I froze. Not because I was curious. But because something inside me clenched — sharp, instinctive, unwelcome.
It buzzed again, a soft, persistent vibration. I shouldn’t have looked. I truly shouldn’t have.
But my eyes flicked toward the screen, just for a second and that second was enough to catch the preview from a Mira.
Flights have resumed. Booked you for tomorrow morning. Mum’s getting annoyed now, you need to finalise everything today.
My stomach dropped. I straightened instantly, guilt washing over me. It was his phone. His private life. I had no right.
I turned away, pressing my fingers to my temple.
Why did you look? I hated the answer long before it formed.
Because last night meant something. Because waking up beside him had felt… different. Because I didn’t want the reality of him leaving to arrive so quickly. I squeezed my eyes shut trying to calm myself.
“Why did I do that?” I whispered to the empty room. “Idiot Bri”
I hated that I cared. I hated how my feelings were terrifying me. I knew he was leaving, he was always going to leave, eventually.
I finished stirring the coffee with hands that weren’t quite steady.
When Oliver stepped out of the bathroom moments later, hair damp, moving with that easy sort of confidence he didn’t know he had…
something inside my chest twisted painfully.
He smiled until he saw me standing with his phone still in my hand, and all at once, I wished I could un-see that message.
“Brianna?” he said, voice gentle.
“Someone umm, texted. Sorry, I didn’t mean to pick it up, I thought it was mine.” I managed, handing him a mug. “The flights are back on.”
Those few moments where he stood there and I watched him closely felt like an eternity. I couldn’t help but keep my mouth from speaking when I finally said those words out loud, he was leaving.
I sat down on the sofa, wrapping my hands around my mug, letting the warmth steady me.
“I’m sorry, I shouldn’t have read your messages.” I said quietly. “
He didn’t speak right away, he just sat beside me, shoulders angled toward mine.
“I’m not surprised they’ve been keeping track of the weather reports and airports.” he asked softly.
I swallowed and a silence settled, it felt heavy and filled with tension. Or perhaps, that was just me as he flicked through his phone, there must have been other messages.
“I knew you’d have to leave eventually,” I said, voice barely above a whisper. “I told myself I was prepared for it. But seeing it… seeing the actual words…” My throat tightened. “It hit me harder than I expected.”
Oliver exhaled slowly, setting his mug on the table. “Come here.”
I hesitated, then allowed him to take my hand and guide me closer. He didn’t pull me against him, didn’t try to fix what couldn’t be fixed in a single breath. He simply sat with me, grounding me, thumb stroking along the side of my palm.
“You’re not wrong to feel this,” he said quietly. “Any of it.”
“I shouldn’t have read it,” I insisted. “I feel awful about that.”
“I don’t mind,” he said gently. “Honestly. I’d rather you know than wonder.”
That made something in my chest ache even more.
“I didn’t expect it to hurt this much,” I whispered.
His jaw tightened, but his voice stayed calm. “I’m still here. I’m not leaving this minute. And last night didn’t change because of a plane ticket.”
“It didn’t?” My voice cracked, humiliatingly soft.
“No,” he said, shaking his head. “Of course not. Last night meant something. Every moment of it.”
I stared at our joined hands, fragile and warm and frighteningly precious.
“I don’t want to lose what I have here,” I whispered. “My home, my bakery… and now maybe you. It feels like everything in my life is hanging by a thread.”
He shifted closer, brushing a strand of hair behind my ear. “Then let me hold one of the threads.”
I let out a shaky laugh that wasn’t really a laugh at all. “I don’t know how to believe in this when everything else is falling apart.”
His thumb brushed the back of my hand again. “Then we’ll take it one day at a time. No promises you’re not ready for. No pressure. Just… us. Trying.”
I closed my eyes, letting those words settle. Trying. That I could handle, that I could breathe through. But the bakery…The impending decisions…The future…Those still loomed. And I wasn’t ready to pretend they didn’t. When I finally opened my eyes, Oliver was watching me.
“I need a little space to think,” I whispered.
He nodded without hesitation. “Take whatever you need. I meant it, Bri. I’m not going anywhere today.
” He paused, something firmer flickering beneath the gentleness.
“And the flight tomorrow…” He shook his head.
“That can wait. I’m not ready to leave. And I don’t enjoy being ordered around by anyone, family or not. ”
And I believed him. Even if tomorrow remained uncertain.