Chapter 27
Maggie, our newest addition, had quickly become the heart of our home. Her tiny paws pattered across the hardwood floors as she followed me from room to room, her chocolate brown eyes wide with curiosity. In the afternoons, when the sun's harsh glare softened, I'd scoop her up and carry her out to the patio. There, amidst the lush grass, she'd tumble and play, her puppy energy seemingly boundless.
Trouble, had surprised us both with his easy acceptance of Maggie. Despite the shift in attention, he seemed content to share his domain. Often, I'd find them curled up together in one of the plush beds scattered throughout the penthouse, or batting playfully at the same toy. I'd long since abandoned my attempts to keep their playthings organized; Trouble had a knack for liberating them from whatever container I chose.
As I stood in our walk-in closet, fingers trailing over hangers of designer clothes, I marveled at how much had changed in just a week. Oliver and I had already attended two therapy sessions, each one peeling back another layer of his carefully guarded past. It felt like we were finally moving forward, rebuilding our relationship on a foundation of honesty and understanding.
Today marked a significant milestone: brunch at The Diamond Square with my family. My parents, Matthew, Tova, Finley, Sadie, and Teagan would all be there. When I'd told them about our reconciliation, their lack of surprise had been almost anticlimactic. Their feelings, however, were far from simple.
Matthew's reaction had been particularly intense. During a hushed phone call earlier in the week, he'd confided his initial desire to beat the shit out of Oliver after our separation, especially in light of what happened with the baby. His promise to remain civil came with a caveat: Oliver had a lot of explaining to do. I understood his protective instinct, even as I hoped for peace.
Lost in thought, I barely registered the passage of time until Oliver's voice broke through my reverie.
"Sweetheart, are you okay?" he asked, his head appearing around the closet door. He looked devastatingly handsome in tan slacks and a lavender dress shirt, a purple tie adding a touch of elegance.
I turned to him, feeling suddenly vulnerable in my state of undress. "I don't know what to wear," I admitted, my voice barely above a whisper.
He looked hungrily at my nude lace bra and panties. "You better make a decision before I strip you naked and give you a pre-brunch fucking."
I groaned, feeling the heat rise in my cheeks. "Stop that."
"Stop what?" he asked, feigning innocence as his eyes roamed over my body.
"Trying to entice me. We didn’t make love last night," I complained, crossing my arms over my chest.
"That was not my fault," he countered, a hint of defensiveness in his voice.
"You were on the phone so long that I fell asleep," I said, frustration creeping into my tone.
"It couldn’t be avoided," he explained, a sigh escaping his lips.
"You have people to handle negotiations, don’t you?" I challenged, raising an eyebrow.
"I do, but this one is particularly sensitive," he admitted, running a hand through his hair.
"Why?" I pressed, wanting to understand.
"It just is," he replied, his tone firm. "Now get dressed before we’re late."
He left the closet, leaving me to pick out my outfit. I selected a short peach dress with spaghetti straps, perfect for the hot weather of late June. As I slipped it on, I called after him, "This better be worth it."
"It always is with you," he replied, a smile in his voice as he returned to the bedroom.
I couldn't help but smile back, the anticipation of the day ahead mingling with the lingering desire between us.
The private room at The Diamond Square buzzed with subdued conversation as Oliver and I made our entrance. We were the last to arrive, and I felt a prickle of anxiety as I scanned the faces of my family members, searching for any signs of hostility towards my husband. To my relief, their expressions were open and welcoming. I released a breath I hadn't realized I'd been holding as we took our seats.
Oliver, ever the gracious host, gestured expansively. "Please, order whatever you'd like," he announced, his voice warm and inviting.
While the others eagerly perused the menu, I opted for a simple Caesar salad with grilled chicken on a bed of mixed greens. I knew Oliver well enough to anticipate the array of macarons and confections he'd have brought out for dessert, and I wanted to save room for the sweet treats.
As we settled into our meal, the conversation naturally divided. Oliver, Anders, Matthew, and Finley dove into a discussion about the stock market, their voices a low hum of financial jargon.
Meanwhile, my mother, Sadie, and I couldn't take our eyes off Teagan, my niece who had recently celebrated her first birthday. She toddled around the room with determined unsteadiness, eliciting soft coos and chuckles from us.
When Teagan made a beeline for the serving table, her tiny hands reaching for the white linen tablecloth, Sadie and I exchanged a glance and rose in unison to intercept her.
As we gently redirected the curious toddler, Sadie turned to me, her eyes searching. "So, it's good with you?" she asked, her voice low and tinged with concern.
I nodded, a smile tugging at the corners of my mouth. "Yes, really good. He got me another puppy."
Sadie's eyebrows shot up. "Really? What kind?"
"A tan Frenchie," I replied, unable to keep the affection from my voice. "I'm calling her Maggie."
Sadie's expression softened. "At least he's trying."
I paused, considering my words carefully. "He never stopped. He was afraid I would reject him."
"Men are ridiculous," Sadie sighed, shaking her head.
I chuckled softly. "Yes, they are," I agreed, "and more vulnerable than us sometimes."
Sadie laughed as she scooped Teagan into her arms, carrying her back to my mother. I followed, settling into my seat and drawing my niece onto my lap. As I began a game of peekaboo with her, I caught Oliver watching us from the corner of his eye. His gaze was intense, filled with an emotion I couldn't quite name.
Once we were alone in the privacy of our vehicle, Oliver turned to me, his expression a mix of curiosity and something deeper.
Oliver's eyes softened as he turned to me, a hint of vulnerability in his voice. "You really like Teagan."
I shook my head, a warm smile spreading across my face. "No, I love her. She's your niece too, you know."
He nodded, his gaze distant. "I know. You'll make a great mother."
My heart swelled at his words. I reached out, taking his hand in mine. "And you'll make a great father."
Oliver's fingers tightened around mine, his brow furrowing. "I wonder sometimes," he murmured, doubt clouding his features.
I squeezed his hand reassuringly. "All you can do is try your best."
His expression cleared, determination replacing uncertainty. "I plan on it. I want our children to have a good life, but I don't want them spoiled."
"They won't be if you teach them properly," I assured him. "Matthew, Finley, and I had a good upbringing. Anders almost always gave us what we wanted within reason."
Oliver's lips quirked into a small smile. "He’s a good stepfather."
I nodded, a shadow passing over my face. "My father was good too. I wish I didn't know about his dirty dealings."
Oliver's expression turned apologetic. "I'm sorry you found out. I didn't want you to know."
I shook my head, forcing a smile. "It's not your fault. Eventually, I might have found out anyway."
As Vlad pulled up to our building, the conversation faded. We stepped out of the car, the warm afternoon sun washing over us. Just as we moved towards the entrance, a familiar voice cut through the air, stopping us in our tracks.
"Oliver!"
We turned to see Jonah standing a few feet away, looking disheveled. His sandy hair was long enough to be held back in a ponytail, and his tanned skin couldn't hide the exhaustion etched into his features.
Oliver's body tensed beside me, his voice dropping to a low hiss. "What do you want, Jonah?"
Jonah took a hesitant step forward, his eyes darting between us. "I need to talk to you."
Oliver's jaw clenched, anger flashing in his eyes. "I haven't seen you in months, and now you surface just when things are getting back to normal?"
“It’s been almost a year. I didn’t have anything to do with the shit that went down during your honeymoon. I tried to help.”
“Where did you go?”
“It’s not important where I was. I have something to tell you. Ryleigh might want to hear this too because it concerns her.”
Oliver looked around as if he expected us to be under surveillance.
“Upstairs. You have fifteen minutes and then I want you out.”
He grabbed my hand and Jonah followed us into the building. I was thankful the elevator was on the main floor, so we didn’t have to wait. Oliver gripped my hand tightly and I had to use my other to make him loosen it. He kept his eyes narrowed at Jonah the entire ride upstairs.
"Ryleigh, don't," Oliver's voice cut through the haze of my shock, his tone a mixture of concern and command.
Jonah's revelation churned in my stomach like acid. I gripped the kitchen counter so hard my knuckles turned white, fighting the urge to vomit. The world seemed to tilt on its axis, and I struggled to find my footing in this new, terrifying reality.
I turned to Oliver, my voice trembling with a mixture of fear and anger. "How can you say that? Were you even listening?"
Oliver's eyes met mine, steady and calm in the face of my panic. "Yes, I was. Don't get upset."
The room spun around me, and I swallowed hard. "I need to lie down."
Jonah stepped forward, his face etched with urgency. "Oliver, I have more to tell you."
Oliver held up a hand, his focus entirely on me. "Let me get my wife settled."
With gentle hands, he guided me down the hallway to our bedroom. As I sank onto the edge of the bed, my fingers fumbled with the buckles of my sandals, shaking too hard to manage the simple task. Oliver knelt before me, his touch steady as he undid the straps.
"How can you be so calm?" I whispered, tears threatening to spill over.
Oliver's hands stilled on my feet, his voice low and determined. "Because I want to be strong for you. I want to get all the particulars before I put a plan into action."
Anger flared within me, hot and sudden. "Fuck the plan. We need to call the police."
As Oliver rose, he squeezed my knee reassuringly. "Relax, sweetheart. I won't let anything happen to you."
A bitter laugh escaped my lips. "Really? Did you happen to forget our honeymoon? We had eight security agents, and they still couldn't protect us."
Oliver's jaw tightened. "With a mole among the ranks. It would've never happened without his help."
The memory of Oliver's near-death experience crashed over me like a wave. "And you almost died. I can't face that again, not after what we just went through."
Oliver's eyes softened, his voice tender. "You won't. We won't. I promised to take care of you, and I will. I'll give my life for yours."
The dam broke. Tears streamed down my face as Oliver stepped between my legs, pulling me into a tight embrace. I clung to his shirt, burying my face against his slacks. "Do you think I want to live without you?"
His hand stroked my hair soothingly. "No, but that won't happen. There will be no need to worry about it."
I pulled back, meeting his gaze with red-rimmed eyes. "I can't do this again. I just can't."
Oliver cupped my face in his hands, his thumbs wiping away my tears. "Sweetheart, let me hear what else Jonah has to say, and I'll be back. Try to relax."
With gentle movements, he helped me fully onto the bed, covering me with the ivory knit blanket we kept at the foot. As Oliver's footsteps faded down the hallway, I turned my gaze to the window, my mind racing with possibilities, each more terrifying than the last.
In the stillness of our bedroom, I was left alone with my fears, the weight of Jonah's revelation pressing down on me like a physical force. Whatever was coming, whatever storm we were about to face, I knew our lives would never be the same again.