Page 75 of His To Unravel
I’ve spent so long waiting for her to trust me with those feelings, and now that she has, it feels like something has broken open inside me.
This is the most secure I’ve ever felt with her, the most certain I’ve ever been.
For all the meticulous planning, all the calculated steps I’ve taken, nothing compares to this. No strategy, no manipulation could ever match the power of herchoosingme.
My arm tightens around her, pulling her impossibly closer, and she hums softly, her breath a warm caress against my neck.
I let my fingers drift over her shoulder, tracing the line of her collarbone through the sweater. She shifts slightly against me but doesn’t pull away. A rare contentment settles over me, so fragile that I’m afraid to disturb it.
But there’s something I need to ask her—something I can’t keep inside any longer.
I turn my head slightly, brushing my lips over her hair. “Baby,” I murmur, my voice low, meant only for her. She tilts her head up, green eyes warm and curious.
“Do you remember when I asked you about your plans for winter break?”
She blinks, clearly not expecting the question, and nods slowly. “I do,” she says, her voice soft.
I hesitate—not because I’m unsure, but because what I want matters more than I know how to say. I’m not accustomed to vulnerability, not like this, but with Olivia, it feels unavoidable.
“I’ve been trying to give you space to think about it,” I confess, threading our fingers together. “But I need to ask… Have you given it any more thought?”
Her lips part slightly as a hint of surprise flickers across her face. She doesn’t speak right away, and the pause makes it slightlyhard to breathe but I forge on, my thumb brushing slow circles over her hand.
“Because I meant it, Olivia,” I say, more resolute. “You can spend the break with me… Iwantyou to.”
A crease has now formed between her brows, but I refuse to waver.
“I’ll take care of everything,” I add hastily, my grip on her tightening, just in case she tries to pull away. “You’ll have nothing to worry about. I just… I want to give you the break you deserve, Olivia. To show you what life with me could be like. To create more memories with you.”
Her gaze searches mine, and for a moment, I see the conflict there—the push and pull of her desires warring with the insecurities I know still fester. I hate the thought that she might hesitate because she doesn’t see herself the way I see her. She has become everything to me, and I need her to understand that.
“I know it’s a lot to ask,” I continue, my voice softening. “Butplease, Olivia. Say yes. Come back with me to Manhattan.”
The seconds stretch and my heart pounds. Her lips press together as she considers my words, her fingers twitching slightly against mine.
And then, finally, she nods.
“Yes,” she says, her voice barely audible but certain.
Relief crashes over me like a wave, followed by a surge of triumph. She’s chosen me again, taken another step deeper into my world, and I can’t hide the smile that spreads across my face.
“Thank you, baby,” I say softly, leaning in to press another kiss to her forehead. My lips linger against her skin as I murmur, “You can’t imagine how happy you’ve just made me.”
For the first time in my life, happiness feels tangible, real. And it’s wrapped entirely in her.
After convincingOlivia to join me in New York for winter break, a new hunger rises in me. Every piece of herself she offers only seems to sharpen my craving for more.
The idea rooted itself in my mind the moment Professor Jones suggested collaborating on the capstone project together.
In my head, I can already see it: late nights working side by side, the fusion of our ideas into something extraordinary, the culmination of everything we’ve built together.
The thought of it sets something alight inside me, a need to ensure it becomes reality. Not through pressure, but through precision. With Olivia, everything must be deliberate, earned. She deserves gestures that mean something.
So tonight isn’t just a date. It’s strategy. The grandeur, the art curated to impress—every detail is designed to show her what we could be. What we already are, when she lets herself fall.
I glance around the dimly lit gallery of the Isabella Stewart Gardner Museum, the faint glow of carefully placed spotlights illuminating centuries-old art. The Venetian-inspired architecture, the lush courtyard brimming with vibrant greenery and flowers—it’s a setting meant to dazzle. To remind her that no one else can offer her what I can.
It’s taken days of intense planning, strings pulled, and favors called in, but it’ll be worth every ounce of effort if it brings her joy.
