Page 97 of His To Unravel
Her brow arches, the glass cradled in her hands. “After tonight? I think we both do.”
I let out a quiet laugh, though it feels tight in my throat. She sets the glass down and pads to the couch, tucking her legs beneath her as she pats the cushion beside her.
I hesitate as my mind betrays me with the possibility that this might be it—the moment she decides it’s all too much, thatIam too much.
When I finally sit beside her, she leans into me. It’s small, but it grounds me in ways I can’t articulate. I want to freeze the moment, to press pause on whatever is coming next.
“I’ve been thinking,” she begins softly, tilting her head to look up at me. “About something your father said tonight.”
My jaw tightens reflexively. “What about?”
“That you almost left Halford,” she continues, her tone cautious. “He made it sound like you wanted to drop out.”
I keep my expression neutral. “I did.”
Olivia’s brow furrows, her lips parting slightly as if she doesn’t know how to respond. “I didn’t know that… Why?”
“It doesn’t matter,” I say quickly, almosttooquickly. “I stayed.”
“Butwhy?” she presses, her gaze holding mine.
Because of you.The answer sits heavy on my tongue, too big to swallow, but I can’t avoid it. She deserves the truth.
I exhale slowly. “It started last year. I took time off school because I was burnt out, disillusioned…whatever you want to call it. I spent that time working with my father since I was always going to join the family business anyway.”
Her eyes soften, but she stays quiet, listening.
“When I came back for the spring semester, I thought I’d try again. See if anything felt different. But nothing had changed. The people, the conversations, the classes… It all felt meaningless. I was ready to walk away for good.”
She draws in a breath. “But you didn’t.”
“No,” I confirm, gaze steady. “Because then I saw you.”
She blinks. “You saw me?”
I nod. “On campus. The first time, you were sitting on a bench beneath one of the oak trees reading a book. You had your headphones in, head down, lost in your own world. I don’t know why it caught me, but it did.”
She draws back slightly—not recoiling, but surprised. “You mean…before we ever spoke?”
“Yes,” I say. “I saw you that day. And then again. And again. Always in passing. But I started to look for you. And every time I found you, I stayed longer.”
“For how long?” She asks, quieter now.
“Months,” I admit. “I told myself I was just curious. But the more I watched, the more I needed to know.”
I watch her process the weight of my confession,her fingers knotting in her lap. Her expression is unreadable, which only makes my anxiety worse. Still, I force myself to push forward.
“I stayed that semester because of you,” I continue. “I hadn’t planned to. But watching you—seeing the way you moved through the world, how focused you were, how you carried yourself like you didn’t need anyone to notice you—it made me want to. And once I did…I couldn’t stop.”
She says nothing, and I can’t tell if it’s disbelief or something else entirely.
“I arranged our first meeting,” I confess, the words spilling before I can second-guess them. “Over the summer, I planned how to meet you. I knew we’d both be on our final year, so I pulled some strings. I made sure we got paired up on that project. I wanted a reason to talk to you, to hear your voice up close.”
“You really did all that? Just to meet me?” she asks, incredulous.
I nod. “And it only made it worse,” I say, a wry smile pulling at my lips. “It just confirmed what I already knew—I needed to be near you.”
She searches my face. “But…why me?”
