Page 102 of Oliver
I studied his profile, the strong jaw now relaxed, the tension that had been present since we arrived in Norman finally easing from his features.
"Were you ever going to tell me?" I asked quietly, unable to keep the doubt from my voice.
"I was, actually." Oliver laughed, a hollow sound that echoed through the night. He rubbed a hand over his face, then turned to look at me, his eyes earnest behind his glasses. "It’s what I wanted to talk to you about before?—"
"Before I ended our contract," I completed for him, the words like ash in my mouth.
Stupid.
“It doesn’t matter.” Oliver sighed, long and heavy. “I should have told you long before that.”
"Then why didn’t you?" The question was sharp with all the hurt I'd been holding in. "You had so many chances to tell me the truth; why wait until there was no other choice?"
"I didn't..." Oliver started, then stopped, his hand rubbing over his face and through his hair in that familiar, endearing gesture.
"You didn't trust me."
"Not at first, no." His honesty was brutal but appreciated.
"But by the time you learned about the LLC, about the deed in the church, that I could give you the access you needed?" I pushed, needing to understand. "Did you trust me by then? Because the way you made love to me, Oliver, it sure as hell felt like you did."
The memory of our bodies entwined, the vulnerability in his eyes as he surrendered himself to me, hovered between us like a ghost.
Oliver's eyes were desperate, a slight tremor in his hand when he lifted it to adjust his glasses. "I don't know what to say to make this right."
"The truth would be nice, for a change." It was a low blow, and it seemed to hit Oliver right where it hurt.
"I'm sorry," he said again, his voice cracking slightly. "The truth is, if I could take it back and tell you sooner, I would. But I can't. And I don't want to lose you."
I felt the pain in his words in my soul, but it wasn't enough. He was still holding back, still not giving me everything I needed to trust him again.
“Why did your parents not want to give you the house?” I asked, desperately trying to understand something,anything, about the situation.
“Because they knew having it and letting it rot hurt me.” The matter-of-fact way he said it, like it was obvious. Like it made sense. Like it wasn’t the most shattering thing I’d ever heard. “Because that house is the only thing left in Norman that I love.”
I didn’t know what to say, how to react, so I let the silence linger until the weight of it was too much to bear.
“I can’t do this anymore, Oliver,” I whispered. “Beg for crumbs and scraps of your trust while I lay myself bare.”
His exhale was full of pain, as if breathing had become torture, and then he leaned close, pressing his forehead to mine.
“I will rip my chest open with my bare hands and tear my heart out for you to hold,” he whispered in a broken voice. “I would violate the laws of physics, I would travel across light years, just to kiss you one more time, my Lumina.” His eyelashes tickled my cheeks as his eyes fluttered shut. “You have my unconditional trust and love, Zahra. I’m begging you to give me a chance to earn yours again.”
Tears prickled in my eyes.
I wanted to stay.God, I wanted to stay.To let him hold me, to press my lips to his and pretend for just a little while longer that love was enough to fix this.
But this love? This love was too much. Too painful.
He’d given me everything I thought I wanted, only to turn around and lie to me. Use me. Risk my reputation and wellbeing without giving me a choice in the matter.
I needed time to think, to process.
I needed to see this wedding through.
"I have to get back to the reception," I said, gently removing his hands from my face and standing up. “I’ll be staying with my parents tonight.”
Oliver’s face crumpled, but he nodded. He understood that, right now, I needed to choose myself.
