Epilogue #2
"Not a single item," Alexandra said. "I could hear it in his attorney's voice.
Mark is afraid of something and wants this done quickly.
The attorney sounded like he wanted it over as much as his client.
" A beat. "What did you say to Mark to put the fear of God into him?
Nobody agrees to everything unless they are genuinely frightened. "
Olivia turned her head slowly.
Nicholas was watching her. Jaw set. Expression inscrutable. His eyes met hers with the steady, unreadable quality of a man who has done what needed to be done and requires no explanation of it.
She held his gaze for a moment.
Then she turned back to the phone.
"That's wonderful, Alexandra. What do we need to do next?"
"The papers are ready to be signed. I can FedEx them to you today, and you can have them back to me by Wednesday. As soon as I have them back, I can file them the next day."
Olivia muted the phone. "Can we go to her office today?"
"Absolutely. Tell her noon."
She unmuted. "How about if I stop by your office today at noon? I'm in Miami."
"Perfect," Alexandra said, and the smile in it was audible. "See you then."
When the call ended, the bedroom was quiet.
Nicholas looked at her.
She thought about the question she already knew the answer to: whether someone had spoken to Mark directly, whether the fear in his attorney's voice had been put there on purpose by people who understood consequences in a very specific way.
She thought about everything she knew, everything she had chosen not to examine, and everything Nicholas had promised her and kept without fanfare or explanation.
She leaned across and kissed him — soft and certain and entirely without reservation.
"Let's get dressed," she said.
Nicholas pulled to the curb in front of Alexandra's building and left the engine running. Olivia squeezed his hand, got out, and went up alone.
Twenty minutes.
That was all it took to leave years of misery behind on a set of signed papers in a Miami law office.
She slid back into the car and exhaled — long and shaky and complete — and felt the quality of the air around her actually change.
They found a small, quiet lunch place away from the midday rush. Salads and sparkling water, and the ease of two people who don't need to fill the silence.
"I can't believe I'll be divorced in thirty days," she said. She looked at him. "And I'm going to live with you in Miami. I don't think I could be any happier."
She paused. Let the thought she'd been sitting with surface. "Why do you think he agreed to everything so easily?"
Nicholas shrugged, a knowing smile playing quietly at the corner of his mouth. "Hard to say. Maybe what happened to Little Frankie — and then to his brother — persuaded him it was in his best interest."
"Maybe," she said. "But I know Mark. He cares more about status and money than almost anything. He wouldn't fold just because of what happened to them." She held his eyes. "Unless someone spoke to him directly."
Nicholas looked at her steadily. Said nothing. His expression gave her exactly what she'd learned to read from it — not a denial, not a confirmation. Just the steady, certain presence of a man who had made a decision he stood behind and didn't need her to map the full architecture of it.
She studied him for a moment.
Then she sat back.
"Okay," she said quietly. "Let's move on."
She picked up her fork. "Actually, I've been thinking about the transfer to Miami. You offered to help make it happen." She looked at him. "Would you mind if I put that on hold for a while?"
Nicholas paused. "On hold?"
"With the settlement from Mark, I can afford some time off.
" She smiled. "I thought it might be nice to get used to Miami first. Spend time with Verónica and Sophia.
Verónica mentioned lunch—I'd love that. Actually, learning my new city before diving back into a sixty-hour work week sounds, honestly, wonderful. "
Nicholas looked at her for a long moment. Then, a low, warm chuckle. "I have a feeling this came up yesterday when I wasn't in the room."
Olivia blushed and grinned. "It may have come up."
He reached across the table and took her hand. "I think it's a perfect idea. Take all the time you need. I love that you'll be in Miami. I love that you'll be home when I get there."
She felt the word land in her chest exactly where it was supposed to.
Home.
Not a guest room with a locked door. Not a hotel suite borrowed by the week. Not a small apartment in Tampa that was hers but hadn't yet become a life.
Home.
They laughed together, warm and easy and completely at home with each other, as the Miami afternoon moved around them and the future took shape into something she recognized with absolute clarity.
For the first time in years, Olivia wasn't waiting for anything.
She wasn't surviving anything.
She wasn't pretending.
She was exactly where she was supposed to be, sitting across from the man she loved, in the city that was about to become hers, with thirty days between her and the rest of her life.
She squeezed his hand.
He squeezed back.
And that was enough.
That was everything.