Maxwell’s POV
She opened her mouth to talk, but I beat her to it. I needed to assure her that she was safe now and free from harm .
"Olivia," I started, leaning forward, "I just want you to know that my father has been taken care of, and would never bother you again. Ever again. You have my word."
She nodded with a smile, but instead of acknowledging what I’d said, she voiced out in concern...
"How have you been?" She asked softly, and the simple question nearly undid .
How had I been?
Miserable. Lost. Incomplete. Dying a little more each day without her.
"I’m fine," I lied, keeping my voice steady. "But I’m more worried about what brought you here. Is everything okay?"
She nodded. "Everything’s fine. Dad’s doing really well. The physical therapy is helping a lot."
"That’s good," I said, genuine relief flooding through . "I’m glad to hear it. And Kennedy? Is he doing okay?"
A small smile touched her lips. "Kennedy’s great. Things are going really well with him and Kira, actually."
"Really?" I couldn’t help but smile, even as my chest ached. "That’s... that’s nice. I’m happy for them."
I paused, then added with a slight grin, "Damien’s going to be devastated."
The mont the words left my mouth, I saw Olivia’s expression shift.
She was staring at with this strange look - curious, calculating, like she was trying to solve a puzzle.
"Why did you and your brother decide to use the sa approach on and Kira?" she asked.
The question caught completely off guard.
I sat back, my mind racing. Had Damien told her himself? Had he acted on his own, or was this because of those stupid fantasies we’d shared as teenagers?
"I’m not sure," I admitted honestly. "When we were younger, we used to fantasize about things like that. About eting soone in a crowd, being anonymous, doing sothing thrilling and dangerous with a woman we loved. It was just... teenage boy stuff, you know? But sohow, when I saw you at that concert, I found myself actually doing it."
I looked at her, trying to gauge her reaction.
"I didn’t plan it," I continued. "It just happened. And I didn’t know Damien had done sothing similar with Kira until much later."
Olivia was quiet for a mont, absorbing this.
"I still have so many questions," she said finally. "About everything that happened in the past. About all the gas and the double life you lived. But..."
She paused, and when she looked up at , there was sothing warm in her eyes. Sothing that made my breath catch.
"We have the rest of our lives to talk and laugh about them together." she finished softly.
I nodded, "Yeah," I agreed. "We have the rest of..."
I stopped short.
Replayed her words in my head.
The rest of our lives.
Not ’you have your life and I have mine.’ Not ’we need to figure out co-parenting.’
The rest of our lives.
Together.
"What did you an by that?" I asked, my voice coming out rougher than I intended. My heart was beating so fast I thought it might actually burst out of my chest. "By ’the rest of our lives’?"
She looked at , and I saw her take a deep breath, like she was gathering courage.
"I an," she said, her voice steady despite the emotion in her eyes, "I love you, Maxwell. And I’m ready to spend forever with you."
The world stopped.
Everything - ti, sound, my own heartbeat - just... stopped.
I stared at her, unable to process what I’d just heard.
She loved .
She was ready for forever.
After everything I’d done. After all the pain I’d caused her family. After three months of silence and separation and staying away because I thought it was what she needed.
She loved .
"Maxwell?" Olivia’s voice was uncertain now, probably because I was just sitting there like an idiot, staring at her with my mouth open.
And then everything hit at once.
Joy. Relief. Love so intense it was almost painful. Gratitude. Disbelief. Hope.
Three months of loneliness and longing and thinking I’d lost her forever, shattered in an instant by five simple words.
I’m ready to spend forever with you.
My eyes burned with tears I hadn’t let myself cry in months.
"Say it again," I whispered, my voice cracking. "Please. I need to hear you say it again."
Olivia’s POV
The words had barely left my mouth when I saw Maxwell’s face transform.
The careful control he’d been maintaining since I arrived crumbled completely, and what I saw underneath made my own eyes sting with tears.
Raw emotion. Vulnerability. Love so overwhelming it took my breath away.
"I love you, Maxwell," I repeated, my voice stronger now. "I love you and I want to be with you. Forever."
And God, saying those words out loud after three months of holding them inside felt like finally being able to breathe again.
Because these three months had been hell.
Pure, agonizing hell.
The first month had been the worst. I’d co by his mansion gates at least a dozen tis, always sitting in the taxi outside, staring at the imposing entrance, trying to find the courage to press the buzzer.
But every ti, fear had stopped .
Fear that he’d moved on. Fear that he didn’t want anymore. Fear that I’d waited too long and destroyed whatever chance we’d had.
So I’d drive away, telling myself I’d co back tomorrow when I was braver.
But tomorrow never felt brave enough.
The second month had been slightly better. Dad had woken up from his coma, and the relief and joy of that had temporarily overshadowed the Maxwell-shaped hole in my heart.
I’d thrown myself into helping with his recovery, visiting the hospital every day, talking to him, reading to him, being there for Mom who’d barely slept during those six weeks.
But at night, alone in my childhood bedroom with my growing belly, I’d lie awake and think about Maxwell.
Wonder where he was. What he was doing. If he thought about even a fraction as much as I thought about him.
The third month had been unbearable.
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