Page 64 of Oliver
"We should probably talk about it, though," I said when we calmed down, feeling lighter than I had all day.
"Probably." Oliver ran a hand through his hair, a nervous gesture I had started to recognize. "Look, what happened...” He took a step forward, hands tucked in his pockets. “We need to draw some new lines.”
"Yeah.” I nodded firmly, ignoring how my skin still tingled where he had touched me last night. “Keep things professional going forward."
His relief was palpable. "Absolutely. Professional."
"What happens in Norman stays in Norman?"
"Exactly." His smile looked almost real. "We're both adults. We can handle this."
I smiled back, but it was forced. My eyes dropped to my tablet, and I tucked a strand behind my ear. “Do you wish it hadn’t happened?”
Oliver froze, eyes darting across my face, gaze unreadable as he searched for…something.
Then, another step closer. “I don't regret what happened, Zahra. It was…”
“Life changing?” I offered, half joking, half hoping I wasn’t the only one who felt my world shift on its axis.
“Unexpectedly so,” Oliver whispered. “A stellar collision."
We stared at each other. I didn't realize how close we’d gotten until it was too late, until we were so close we were drifting inevitably closer, the space between us shrinking with each heartbeat.
“What happens at a stellar collision?” I asked, breath bated as I waited for his answer.
Oliver had that look in his eyes again, the one from last night—dark and hungry and focused entirely on me.
“Two stars merge, creating something new and often more powerful.” His voice was low, dangerously tempting. He was soclose I felt the heat radiating off = him, and I wasn't sure I had the strength to stop him if he leaned in—wasn't sure I wanted to.
"Zahra!"
My aunt’s voice cut through the moment like a razor-sharp blade. I took an instinctive step back as she appeared at the garden entrance, her disapproval like toxic radiation.
"Running off toplaywith your boyfriend in the middle of the shoots?" The way she said “play,” layered with insinuation, made my cheeks burn. "Just because this is your cousin's wedding doesn't mean you're allowed to get sloppy with your professional duties."
My heart raced, not from Oliver's proximity but from the implications of her words, the unfiltered disdain and degradation.
“The shoot is over, Auntie,” I said, turning to her, placing myself between her venom and Oliver as if I could protect him. “We were taking a short break.”
“There is nowewhen you’re on duty,” she hissed. “Only them—Parisa and Darryl, the bride and groom. You, Zahra, are background, andhe—” she said, pointing a sharp, pink fingernail at Oliver “—isn’t part of the wedding party. He shouldn’t be here.”
Oliver tensed at my back, his fingers coming to rest on the small of it, as if I were the one who needed support.
"I should go," I whispered, and Oliver solemnly nodded.
I started to leave, then remembered something. I reached into my pocket, fingers closing around the small object I'd been carrying since this morning.
"Here." I opened my palm, revealing the pearl button I'd picked up from our hotel room floor.
Oliver took the button from my hand and stared at it, his expression unreadable. He didn't move. Didn't speak. Justturned it over once, twice, rolling it between his fingers like he was memorizing the weight of it.
His jaw flexed, muscle ticking under the strain.
Like he hated that I’d kept it.
Like he hated what it meant.
Like he hated that he couldn’t bring himself to hand it back.
