Page 96 of His To Unravel
“It’s been…refreshing to see Nathaniel apply himself again,” he remarks, not looking up from his plate. “There was a time he considered walking away from college entirely. Too easy for him, isn’t that right, my boy?”
Nathaniel’s smile doesn’t quite reach his eyes. “Something like that.”
I glance at him, curiosity stirring, but his expression remains unreadable. I knew he had taken a year off, but not that he’d almost quit entirely.
“That changed when you came into the picture.” Charles’s gaze shifts to me. “Your timing was impeccable, Olivia. I was eager to meet the woman who could inspire such a transformation.”
My fork stills.
Nathaniel’s jaw is tight, lips pressed in a thin line. I can sense the shift in him, like something fragile has been laid bare.
Am I really the reason he returned?
Until now, I’ve thought our meeting was chance. But the pieces are beginning to rearrange themselves, forming a picture I’m not sure I know how to interpret.
Renée, reading the room, sweeps in like a balm to smooth the tension.
“Nathaniel’s always been exceptional,” she says with a smile,her gaze landing on me and offering silent reassurance. “He’s just…selective about where he expends his energy.”
“Selective,” Charles echoes with a smirk, his gaze flicking toward his son. “Indeed.”
There it is again—a tense undercurrent that tugs at the space between them. Nathaniel’s grip tightens on his wine glass, though his face remains composed.
Renée continues filling the silence, recounting a story from Nathaniel’s childhood that draws laughter from the table. As she speaks, I watch Charles, who listens quietly, his sharp gaze occasionally drifting between Nathaniel and me.
I’m not sure what he’s looking for.
By the end of dinner, I feel like I’ve passed a test I didn’t know I was taking.
The Caldwell family is stunning. Cultivated. Impressive.
But underneath the polish, there are fractures.
And as Nathaniel threads his fingers through mine under the table, a question settles quietly into my chest:How deep do they go?
TWENTY-SEVEN
nathaniel
The door closesbehind us with a soft click. Olivia steps into the apartment, exhaling slowly as she slips out of her heels. Her bare feet whisper across the marble, and she leans onto the kitchen counter like she belongs here—like this space has always been hers.
The idea that one day it might be empty of her feels like a hand around my throat.
I watch her from the entryway as she combs her fingers absently through her hair. My eyes track her movements as she reaches for a glass, fills it with water, and sips slowly. It’s such an mundane act, but I can’t look away. Everything about her draws me in. The curve of her shoulders, the soft way she exhales, even the faint furrow of her brow—it all tethers me to this moment, toher.
I didn’t expect to feel this unsettled. I have planned every detail, from the first brush of contact to the carefully orchestrated pace of our relationship. Nothing has been left to chance. Yet tonight has left me more exposed than anticipated.
Olivia has seen the photos. She understands now, at least in part, the extent of the things I have chosen not to share. Andthanks to my father, she knows I have been aware of her far longer than I have ever admitted.
Our relationship now feels like it’s resting on a blade’s edge, and I am the one holding it there.
I told myself she would be too far gone by the time the pieces fit together, too in love to care. But doubt creeps in, cold and vicious.What if I have miscalculated?
“Nate?” Her voice breaks through the haze, melodic and clear, pulling me out of the spiral. She tilts her head, a kind smile playing on her lips. “Are you planning to stand there all night?”
My heart surges with emotion. Somehow, even with the questions I know must be circling in her mind, she’s still looking at me likethat.
I force myself to smile back, walking toward her as though I haven’t just been suffocating in the possibility of losing her. “You looked like you needed a moment.”
