Vicky’s POV
Both sisters looked in our direction. They smiled—warmly, almost knowingly.
Lilian was the first to approach. The older of the sisters, closest to Oliver’s age. "Vicky! What a nice surprise!" she said, pulling into a hug.
"I was surprised too," I laughed. "Very surprised."
She leaned back, narrowed her eyes at her brother, then whispered, "Did my brother kidnap you?"
I gasped dramatically. "Oh my God, yes! How did you know?!"
She burst out laughing. "Because I know him. He may be the best lawyer in the country, but when it cos to emotions? Words? Expressing what he wants? Hopeless. So... kidnapping is the next logical step."
I snorted. "Makes sense."
"Hi, Vicky." Oliver’s youngest sister, Erin, stepped in and gave another warm hug. "We’re really happy you’re here."
"Thanks... I think? I’m still very puzzled about everything," I admitted.
Both sisters exchanged a soft, aningful glance before stepping aside, one to the left, one to the right, revealing the woman in the wheelchair between them.
Ollie touched my elbow gently. "Vics," he said, voice low and full of sothing tender, "I want you to et my mom."
My breath hitched.
He took the bouquet from my hands, stepped forward, and lowered himself onto one knee.
"This is for you, Mommy." His voice cracked just slightly. "Happy birthday."
He placed the flowers on her lap and kissed her forehead.
She didn’t move.
Didn’t react.
Didn’t even blink.
Her gaze was fixed sowhere far away, locked in a world none of us could see or reach.
A painful ache stabbed through my chest. She was beautiful, elegant, delicate, the sa bone structure her children inherited. But her eyes were empty. Lost.
So this is what he ant when he told his mom was in a ntal institution.
Suddenly, the mystery trip, the bouquet, the food, the excitent, it all made sense.
And my heart softened, lting in my chest.
He brought here...
To introduce to his mother.
To soone who mattered more than anything. To a part of himself he never opened up about.
And sohow... that felt bigger than any label. Bigger than any formal "girlfriend" conversation.
It felt like love—soft, careful, and silent but real. No words could ever top up the actions that he is showing now.
Then I rembered the giant teddy bear in my arms.
I glanced at Oliver, lifted it a little, and asked, "Is this for her?"
He nodded softly.
So I mirrored him, kneeling on one knee in front of his mom, and held the teddy bear beside my face like so overly enthusiastic children’s show host.
"Hello, Mrs. Morris," I said, using my brightest smile. "Happy Birthday! This is for you. I hope you like it."
I even made the bear wiggle a little, because why not go all in?
She looked at the teddy bear... then at .
And then she smiled.
My chest tightened.
She pointed at it and asked, in a gentle, almost childlike voice, "Is this for ?"
My eyes instantly glistened. I nodded and nudged the bear closer. "Yes, it’s all yours. Happy Birthday! Do you like it?"
She took the teddy bear with both hands and hugged it tightly, beaming.
"Yes! I love it!" she announced proudly. "I’m going to na him Oliver. Soday, when I have a son, I’ll na him after this teddy. Oliver... Oh! I’ll call this one Ollie Bear!"
The delight in her voice made everyone chuckle.
A tear slipped down my cheek before I could stop it, and I wiped it quickly.
"It’s a beautiful na," I whispered.
"Ollie is her favorite child," Lilian added with an exaggerated sigh. "Such shaless favoritism."
We all laughed.
I stood, and before I could step back, Oliver’s arm slid around my waist, warm and steady.
He looked at his mom with a soft, proud smile.
"Mom, this is Vicky," he said. "She’s my girlfriend."
His mom slowly shifted her gaze to Oliver, and for a mont, it was like she saw him more clearly.
She frowned, squinting at him. "Well, it’s about ti," she said.
Everyone froze.
Then she added, "Look at you, you’re old. You should et my son, Oliver. He’s the best lawyer in the country. Maybe you could be his client. But I’m telling you, don’t introduce your girlfriend to him. She might fall in love with my son. Because my Ollie is really, really handso!"
The whole backyard erupted into laughter, even .
I definitely didn’t expect that.
But seeing Ollie blush while also smiling like his heart was full...
Yeah... that made everything worth it.
One of the nurses clapped her hands loudly, instantly grabbing everyone’s attention.
"Alright, everyone! Please take your seats, the party’s about to start!"
People began moving toward the arranged chairs facing a mini stage. Oliver imdiately reached for his mother’s wheelchair, trying to maneuver it with just one hand, his arm still in the sling.
My heart lurched.
"Oh no you don’t," I muttered under my breath. Before he could even take a full step, I moved beside him and placed my hands on the handles.
"I got this," I whispered.
He looked at , surprised for half a second, then his expression softened into sothing warm, grateful... intimate.
Together, we guided his mother to the spot reserved at the very front. We settled beside her, and Oliver instantly reached for her hand. Without hesitation. Without fear. Just... pure, quiet love.
He lifted her hand to his cheek and leaned close, resting his head lightly on her shoulder.
"I love you, Mom," he whispered, voice cracking in the most heartbreaking way. "I miss you so much."
He probably thought no one heard him. But I did.
The words sank into , heavy and tender all at once.
I quickly turned my face away, pretending to look at the decorations while blinking rapidly. A tear rolled down, betraying , and I swiped it away with the back of my hand before anyone could notice.
God, get it together, Veronica Knight.
But beneath the sting in my eyes was sothing warm, blooming, overwhelming.
Happiness.
Because this, right here, was Oliver letting in.
Not the lawyer persona. Not the controlled, armored version of him.
This was the real Ollie.
The boy who lost his father at a young age and missed his mother,
The man who carried too much alone. The person who used to shut people out... now letting sit right beside him, in the most vulnerable corner of his world.
And I felt my heart lt, slow, steady, unstoppable.
He wasn’t hiding anymore.
He chose to bring here.
He chose .
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