Chapter 30 - Olivia #7
“Stay with me,” he says, his voice steady and sure. “Build a life with me.” His eyes stay locked on mine, unwavering. “Marry me, Olivia.”
The moment the words leave his lips, the answer rises in me as naturally as breath.
“Yes,” I whisper.
Nathaniel goes very still.
His breath catches, his eyes sweeping my face as if he’s searching for proof that he heard correctly. When he finally speaks, his voice is tinged with disbelief—the kind that comes from wanting something too much, for too long.
“What?”
“Yes,” I repeat, my voice trembling with the relief of finally saying it aloud. “Yes, I will marry you, Nathaniel.”
The break in my voice isn’t from uncertainty, but from release.
His smile starts tentatively, as if he fears he may ruin the moment by moving too quickly. Then, it blooms into something so wide and radiant it makes my heart stutter. The sight of his happiness disarms me so thoroughly that tears begin to spill freely down my cheeks.
He lifts the open ring box, glancing from my hand back to my face with an unexpected shyness. “May I put this on you?”
His almost bashful tone makes my chest ache.
“Yes, my love. Of course you can,” I say, extending my left hand. “Please.”
The word feels like an opening—a doorway into the life we’re choosing.
Nathaniel removes the ring carefully and slides it onto my finger. I’m not surprised to find that it fits perfectly, as if it has always belonged there. He would never leave something like this to chance.
He cradles my hand in both of his, staring at the ring on my finger, awestruck.
“It looks perfect,” he murmurs, then glances up, suddenly nervous. “Do you like it?”
I wipe my cheeks with the back of my right hand, smiling through the remnants of emotion. “I love it.” I lean forward and brush a kiss to his mouth, soft and sure. “And I love you.”
He surges upward and gathers me into his arms. He holds me tightly against his chest, his face buried in my hair, grounding himself.
“God, I love you,” he breathes, kissing the side of my head. “I’ll make you happy, baby. I swear it.”
I stroke the back of his head. “I know you will. You already do. And I promise I’ll make you happy too.”
He draws back just enough to see my face. “You already made me the happiest man alive by agreeing to be my wife,” he declares. Then, his forehead comes to rest against mine.
Breaths mingling, we hold each other as the enormity of what just happened settles between us.
But a sudden thought strikes me like lightning, and I can’t stop the laugh that escapes me. Nathaniel pulls back, bewildered. My laugh grows into something fuller, tears slipping again but this time for an entirely different reason.
I wipe my eyes, still grinning. “It just occurred to me that you’ve proposed twice now, and both times were right after sex.” I gesture to his bare torso. “You’re not even wearing a shirt!”
Nathaniel joins my laughter. “In my defense, I figured getting you in a good mood helped my odds.” He smirks, glancing at his own body. “And giving you something pretty to look at never hurts.”
I snort. “Imagine what we’ll have to tell our kids when they ask how you proposed.”
“We can practice tonight,” he deadpans without missing a beat. “When I have to tell my mother how I proposed to you.”
“Oh my god,” I groan, laughing harder. “Please don’t tell her the whole truth.”
Nathaniel is still on his knees when the moment finally settles.
I give his hand a gentle tug. “Get off the floor, Nate. Come sit with me.” My mouth curves. “I want a cuddle.”
He rises fluidly, his palms sliding up my thighs for balance, sending tiny sparks dancing up my skin. He settles beside me on the sofa and immediately draws me into his lap, guiding me into the curve of his body. I fold into him, my cheek finding the familiar space just beneath his shoulder.
His chest is warm against my side, his heartbeat steady under my palm. For a long moment, we stay like this.
Then his palm drifts down the line of my spine, slow and contemplative, as if he’s gathering resolve.
“Baby…” He begins carefully. “I owe you an apology. I shouldn’t have interfered with your job offers and…I’m sorry.”
There’s no edge, no justification, no scrambling to make it sound less than it was. He’s taking full ownership of his actions.
I shift in his lap so I can look at him, one leg curling over his, my hand pressing against his bare chest.
“It wasn’t the right thing to do,” I agree. “And it can’t be like that moving forward.” My tone is even, not punitive. “I need to know you’ll respect my choices, even when they scare you.”
His jaw flexes, just a little. He takes it in as his thumb circles the back of my shoulder, a wordless request to stay here long enough for the conversation he owes me.
“But I know I made it harder,” I admit. “I kept it from you because I was scared of how you’d react, and that wasn’t fair... I’m sorry for that too.”
My fingers spread over his sternum, feeling the steady rise and fall beneath my palm. “I accept your apology. We will be okay.”
Relief spreads through his body in a subtle release of tension, his shoulders easing, his hand at my back loosening as though some internal knot has been undone.
“I’ll fix it,” he promises after a second. “I’ll arrange for you to have your job in London back.” His hand comes up, cupping my cheek gently, his thumb sweeping over the faint salt track of where earlier tears have dried.
“Thank you, but it’s not necessary,” I tell him. I lift my left hand slightly, the ruby catching the afternoon light. “I’ve made my decision.”
His eyes flicker from the ring back to my face.
“I’m moving to New York,” I say. The words come out so easy now. “I want to build a life with you. I don’t want to be apart from you.”
He hums, tucking a loose strand of hair behind my ear. “Would your answer change if I told you we didn’t have to be apart even if you go to London?”
My brows knit. “What do you mean?”
He shrugs. “What if I moved to London with you?”
I blink. “Nathaniel…”
He continues before I can find the right protest. “I’ve spent so long trying to pull you into my life that I forgot we could create our own,” he says quietly. “One that belongs to both of us.”
He exhales, thumb tracing the line of my jaw.
“There’s nothing more that I want than to be with you.
But I’m realizing now that I want you to be happy being with me too.
I want you in the place that excites you, that lets you become everything you’re meant to be.
If that place is London…” His blue eyes hold mine.
“Then I’ll go to London. Wherever you are is where I want to be. ”
Emotion rises so fast I have to swallow around it.
I cradle his face in both hands and lean in, pressing my mouth to his. The kiss is unhurried, gentle, filled with gratitude rather than urgency. It says thank you. It says I see you. It says I know what this means and I don’t take it lightly.
His hands settle at my waist, fingers flexing just enough to pull me closer. He kisses me back like this is all he’s been waiting for.
It’s a kiss that feels like a promise. A beginning.
Then my stomach growls. Loudly.
Nathaniel jerks back like I’ve confessed to some unspeakable suffering. “Baby,” he says, horrified, “how could I have let you go hungry?”
A laugh bursts out of me, as I take in the stricken look on his face. I open my mouth to reassure him, but he’s already retracing the morning under his breath, eyes narrowing in concentration.
“You had no appetite this morning. Then I dragged you into an existential crisis. Then we”— his gaze drops to the ring, and he breaks into a grin that is downright indecent— “got very distracted before I proposed.”
He lifts his hand to my cheek, thumb sweeping tenderly across my skin. “My fiancée cannot live on orgasms and adrenaline alone!” he declares like it’s a personal failing.
Fiancée. My laughter softens into a smile.
I tap his chest lightly. “Well, then you’d better get started on a fresh batch of pancakes.”
THE END