Chapter 19
Olivia
The rented house in Dilworth was quiet. It didn't feel like home, but it was temporary—a place where Olivia could finally breathe without feeling like a burden.
Her parents normally lived in Hendersonville, North Carolina, a peaceful mountain town tucked away in the Blue Ridge Mountains.
They were supposed to return home after their month-long trip to Europe, unpack their suitcases, rest, and settle back into their quiet retirement routine.
Instead, they had come straight to Charlotte from the airport.
They had rented this house on a short-term lease, refusing to be more than a few miles away while their daughter figured out how to survive the wreckage of her life.
Olivia stood at the kitchen sink, washing a coffee mug. She thought about how difficult it had been to tell them the truth.
She hadn't just told them her marriage was in trouble. She had told them everything.
The missing marital funds. The alienation of affection lawsuit James had weaponized against Leo. How James had actively tried to manipulate her friends, shaping the narrative before Olivia could even find the words to explain herself.
And worst of all, the part she could barely choke out: walking into her own bedroom and finding James with Amanda.
The conversation had broken her parents in different ways.
Her mother, Karen, had cried quietly, pulling Olivia into her arms in a way that made Olivia feel like a frightened child again.
Her father, Robert, had become very still.
His posture had grown rigid, his expression too composed—a terrifying, silent fury that Olivia knew meant he wanted to dismantle James piece by piece.
Karen had wanted to call James immediately.
Robert had wanted to drive to James’s office with a lawyer and a baseball bat.
Olivia had been forced to beg them not to make any decisions for her.
She was profoundly grateful for their fierce protection, but she needed to reclaim control of her own life.
She turned off the faucet and dried her hands on a towel.
The most humiliating part of the conversation had been explaining how James had painted himself as the desperately worried, heartbroken husband.
He had made Olivia sound wildly emotional, unstable, and easily manipulated.
He had framed Leo as a predatory outside force tearing apart their marriage, conveniently ignoring the fact that James had destroyed the marriage long before Olivia ever knocked on Leo’s front door.
Her parents had been livid. Her father had paced the living room, declaring that James was doing exactly what guilty men always do when the truth makes them look indefensible: they attack the person holding the proof.
Karen had been terribly hurt that Olivia felt she had to protect them while they were away.
"I didn't want to ruin the trip, Mom," Olivia had explained, her voice cracking. "It was your dream. I wanted you to have it."
Her mother had cupped her face, her eyes shining with tears. "Olivia, no trip on this earth matters more than you."
The memory brought a fresh lump to Olivia’s throat. She swallowed hard, picking up the dry mug and placing it in the cupboard.
As she closed the cabinet door, her mind drifted back to the day she left Leo’s house.
***
The day after the kiss, they had finally talked.
The anticipation had been tearing Olivia apart all morning, gnawing at the edges of her already frayed nerves.
When they sat down in the living room, the space felt overwhelmingly large.
The conversation that followed was agonizingly awkward, deeply painful, and fiercely honest.
Leo looked at her, his blue eyes fixed on hers, refusing to look away. "I don't regret kissing you, Olivia," he said, his voice carrying a raspy edge of conviction. "I can't pretend I do. It is something I have wanted to do for a very long time."
He ran a hand through his hair, looking incredibly frustrated with himself.
"But I regret doing it yesterday. It was incredibly unfair of me to drop years of suppressed feelings on your shoulders while you are already drowning in this nightmare of betrayal, legal threats, and grief.
The kiss was my mistake. The timing was terrible.
But the feeling behind it? I won't apologize for that. "
Olivia wrapped her arms around her own torso, trying desperately to hold herself together. "You don't need to apologize, Leo," she replied, her throat tight with unshed tears. "Please don't."
She looked down at her trembling hands, unable to meet his intense gaze anymore.
"I didn't pull away because I hated it," she admitted, her voice barely above a whisper, shaking with the sheer force of the truth.
"I pulled away because everything inside me is already broken.
My whole life is in pieces, and I don't know what to think anymore.
I don't know how to trust my own reactions. "
She could not possibly make sense of Leo’s confession, or her own terrifying, undeniable response to his kiss, while the rest of her life was still burning to the ground. It was simply too much pain to process.
Leo nodded, his expression softening into something so tender it made her chest physically ache. He closed the distance just enough to be near, but far enough to respect her boundaries.
"Then don't think about it," he urged gently, keeping his hands carefully in his pockets. "You don't have to figure this out right now, Olivia. We can put it in a box, close the lid, and leave it for later. Whenever you are ready. Or even if you are never ready."
That reassurance mattered to Olivia more than he could possibly comprehend. James had always pressed and pushed, demanding answers and forcing compliance until she doubted her own mind. Leo, instead, had offered her a refuge—a place to put the question down without any conditions or expectations.
The tension gave way to grief a week later, when her parents arrived to pick her up.
The reality of leaving hit her hard. Leo carried her suitcase out to their car, his jaw tight and his expression guarded.
The suitcase was full of new clothes she and Brooklyn had bought a few days earlier, simply because Olivia could not keep living out of the small duffel bag she had packed the night her life fell apart.
Every new shirt felt like a glaring reminder that she could not go back to her old life.
The goodbye felt agonizing and strange. They stood by the open car door, an ocean of unsaid words resting in the space separating them. Leo looked deeply sad and visibly apprehensive, his eyes tracing the lines of her tired face.
"Call me when you get there?" he asked, his tone rough with barely concealed worry.
"I will," she promised, her voice cracking on the syllables.
He watched her get into the car with an intensity that made it seem as if she were moving across the world, instead of just going to a rented house less than three hours away.
That intense, focused gaze unsettled her, flooding her system with adrenaline, especially after the kiss.
But as her father pulled the car out of the driveway, she looked back to see Leo still standing by the curb watching them go, and it made her feel cherished and cared for in a way she was deeply terrified to name.
***
Now, living with her parents felt strange too.
It was comforting—Karen made sure she ate three meals a day, and Robert kept asking practical questions about changing locks, consulting lawyers, and whether she needed him to drive her anywhere.
But Olivia knew this wasn't permanent. Soon, her parents would have to return to Hendersonville and their own lives.
And tomorrow, Olivia had to return to the bakery.
The thought made her heart race, a frantic, panicked fluttering against her ribs.
It had been a month since she had stepped foot inside her own business. Only last week had she finally spoken to her team over the phone, giving Maria strict instructions for the upcoming orders. Maria had been running things beautifully, but Olivia knew she could not stay away forever.
She wasn't terrified because she didn't love the bakery. She was terrified precisely because she did love it. That place was a piece of her soul, and she was desperately afraid she would walk through the doors and realize James had managed to taint that, too.
The doorbell rang, pulling her from her thoughts.
Olivia turned to her mother, who was folding laundry at the kitchen table, and told her she would get it. Then she walked to the front door and pulled it open.
Brooklyn stood on the porch, holding a bottle of Pinot Noir and two glasses. "I thought you might need a little liquid courage for tomorrow."
Olivia felt an overwhelming rush of gratitude. She hadn't expected Brooklyn to come. She hadn't realized how badly she wanted someone near her who understood the past few weeks without needing the entire agonizing story explained again.
"Thank you," Olivia breathed, opening the door wider.
Karen greeted Brooklyn politely. There was a healthy dose of maternal curiosity in her eyes, as she knew Brooklyn had helped Olivia at Leo's house, but didn't fully know her yet.
Brooklyn was perfectly friendly and respectful, charming Karen effortlessly before she and Olivia took the wine and slipped out the back door.
The evening air was mild. They sat in the patio chairs on the small deck.
Brooklyn tried to distract her at first. She poured the wine and launched into a highly dramatized story about a package delivery mix-up involving twenty pounds of imported sculpting clay, a confused mailman, and a neighbor's aggressively friendly golden retriever.
Olivia smiled, grateful for the effort. Brooklyn had been amazing to her. She hadn't asked for any of this mess. She didn't owe Olivia a single thing. And yet, she had showed up.