Page 84 of Your Second Chance
Finally, I turned to Ollie, my nerves steadying as I met his gaze. “Okay, we’ll do it.”
His smile stretched so wide it was almost infectious. “To moving in.” He held up his glass as we all joined in, cheering to the decision.
We agreed to make the move after the countryside trip, his mum heading upstairs to pack her things so we could leave earlier tomorrow.
Will paused mid-sip and turned to Luna, a mischievous grin on his face. “What’s this I hear about ball gags?”
Luna smirked, slipping her fingers into Will’s hair with a deliberate slowness, ruffling it like he was her favorite plaything. “You can try it out,” she purred, “but only if you’re averygood boy.”
“Oh, darling,” he murmured. “If you want a good boy, I’ll be on my knees, waiting for your command.”
Ollie groaned, grabbing my hand, and we bolted out of the kitchen, laughter spilling from both of us as we ran into the living room.
As soon as we stopped, I turned to him, still breathless from laughing. Without thinking, I grabbed his face and kissed him. It wasn’t rushed or hesitant—it was deliberate, full of everything I couldn’t find the words to say.
I kissed him because I didn’t have the words to thank him for all of this. I kissed him because, somehow, he’d done what I thought was impossible.
I kissed him because... I loved him, too.
32
ollie
We’d spent the entire holiday tucked away at the house, only leaving when the craving for fresh pastries from the local bakery was too strong to ignore.
Nova and I stayed in my house at the back of the property while Luna claimed one of the extra rooms in the main house. Despite the proximity, Nova spent most nights in her own room, and the lines between us remained clear. We kissed—soft, lingering touches that felt like promises—but nothing more. The unspoken boundaries held firm, though I couldn’t deny the ache of wanting her closer.
The last few days blurred together, filled with quiet moments by the fire, shared laughter, and lots of food. Tomorrow would be New Year’s Day, and we’d head back to the city. Back to reality.
“I’m still so surprised by this beautiful blanket,” Nova said softly, holding up the crocheted blanket my mum had made for her.
It was cream-colored with intricate stitching, perfectly paired with the tiny matching booties Mum had also made.
Luna, on the other hand, had gotten a matching hat from my mum—a bold, woolly thing that perfectly complemented thesmaller ones for Nova and the baby. Mum had presented them with a grin, and Luna had laughed so hard she almost choked, calling it “peak family bonding.”
Nova and I hadn’t exchanged gifts. She hadn’t known there were any for her, and I’d kept quiet about it, letting the small, thoughtful moments from Mum and Luna speak for themselves. When the night wound down well before midnight and everyone said their good nights, Nova and I returned to the house at the back of the property.
Her hand rested in mine as we stepped inside. The house was quiet, the low hum of the heater the only sound.
“Wait here,” I said, nodding toward the living area.
When I returned, Nova was sitting on the sofa, her hands resting lightly on her lap. She looked up as I walked in, her brows knitting slightly when she saw the slim, flat box in my hands.
I sat down beside her, turning the box over in my hands for a moment before I passed it to her. “I know we didn’t do gifts earlier, but I wanted to give you something.”
She bit her lip and hesitated before taking the box. “You’ve already given me so much, you didn’t have to?—”
“I know.” I cut her off with a small smile. “I wanted to.”
She opened the box carefully, her fingers trembling slightly. Inside was a leather-bound journal, smooth and dark, with her initials pressed subtly into the corner. Attached to the cover was a pen holder with a sleek gold pen tucked neatly inside.
“I thought...” I started, clearing my throat, “you might want a place to write things down. For yourself, or maybe for her. Your thoughts, your dreams, your frustrations—whatever you need to get out.”
She ran her fingers over the leather, her expression unreadable at first. Then her lips trembled, and her eyes glistened with tears she didn’t let fall.
“You put my maiden name.”
I glanced at the leather notebook. I figured since she was divorced, she’d eventually go by Nova Thatcher. I only knew this was her name from the press documents I’d read.
