Page 78 of His To Unravel
And that is victory enough.
At least for tonight.
TWENTY-TWO
olivia
The living roomof Nathaniel’s penthouse is quiet, bathed in the soft gold of late-morning sunlight spilling through the expansive windows. The city buzzes below—a distant thrum that feels worlds away from the chaos of my family’s home.
Sitting cross-legged on the sofa, I feel a strange sense of calm I haven’t experienced in years.
This semester has been a whirlwind—a cascade of changes that completely altered the course of my life.
At the center of it all is Nathaniel.
From the moment we were paired for that project, I was cautious. I told myself to keep him at arm’s length, convinced that someone like him—brilliant, magnetic, completely out of my league—couldn’t possibly be interested in someone like me.
But Nathaniel didn’t just prove me wrong, he took his time doing it. He dismantled my walls brick by brick, with a patience so deliberate it felt like devotion. He didn’t just see me. Hechoseme.
Looking back, it feels like I’ve been holding my breath for years. Always worried about making the “right” choices. Always second-guessing myself, as if one wrong move could undoeverything I’ve worked so hard to build. But with Nathaniel, I’m beginning to believe that maybe I can just…be.
The capstone project is just another example of how much things have changed. When he proposed that we collaborate again, I wasn’t just flattered—I was genuinely excited. Not just because we work well together, but because with him, I want to rise to the challenge. He pushes me to be better, to think sharper, to reach higher. And he does it all without ever making me feel small.
For the first time in my life, I feel like I have someone in my corner—someone who doesn’t just see me for what I can accomplish, but for who I am.
That’s what makes saying yes to spending winter break with him feel less like a leap and more like a natural step forward.
For as long as I can remember, I’ve always put my family first. Returning to Ashby during the holidays was a given, a responsibility I shouldered without question. But this year, I chose differently.
I chose Nathaniel.
This man has never asked anything of me beyond my time and attention. Even when he invited me to spend the holidays with him, it wasn’t framed as an expectation—just a possibility. An escape.
And the way his face lit up when I agreed… How had I ever considered saying no?
Now that I’ve finally come to terms with my feelings—admitting to myself, and to him, that I’m in love—I want to show him through my actions that I’m all in too. Nathaniel has been unwavering from the start. He never seemed to doubt his feelings for me, never faltered in his belief in us. I want him to know I feel the same.
And maybe, away from the academic rigor of Halford, I’ll finally get to know him beyond the pieces he chooses to show. Nathaniel isn’t evasive exactly, but there’s a carefulness to the wayhe talks about his past—a precision that keeps our conversations neatly trimmed to the present.
He’s told me about his work, his plans, even his philosophies on things like power and loyalty. But when it comes to his family, the details taper off. Names without stories. Places without memories. I know we’ll be spending Christmas with them, and I can’t help the curiosity that coils in my chest. There’s something there—unspoken, fragile. And I’m starting to want to understand the man he was before he met me, not just the man he’s become.
But, of course, my family didn’t take the news well.
I pick up my phone from the coffee table, scrolling through the latest messages from my mother, the words sharp and biting even over text.
Mom
I hope you know how much you’ve disappointed your father and me.
We were counting on you, Olivia. But I guess that doesn’t matter to you anymore.
Michael and Sampson are going to have to step up now, even though they’re just kids. I hope you’re happy.
I let out a long exhale.
Claudia Bennett is nothing if not consistent. Her words have always been her sharpest weapon, and she wields them with precision.
For as long as I can remember, I’ve been the buffer, the fixer, the one who makes life easier for everyone else. But now, for the first time, I’m prioritizing myself. And while a small voice in the back of my mind whispers that I should feel guilty, I force myself to ignore it.
