Page 45 of The CEO's Sweetheart Deal
"Would it have made a difference?" He sits beside me now, careful to leave space between us. "You made it clear that you didn't see me that way."
I stare at my hands in my lap, feeling a strange mixture of anger and regret. "I understand, but… there’s more to my side of the story as well.”
Now it's his turn to look confused. "What?"
I take a deep breath. If he can be brave enough to tell his truth after all these years, I can do the same.
"I had feelings for you too, Oscar. Strong ones." The admission feels both terrifying and freeing. "But when you told me how you felt, we were at such a critical point with Organic Now. We'd just secured our first round of real funding. We were about to launch. Everything we'd worked for was coming together."
I turn to face him more fully, needing him to understand. "I was terrified that if we tried to be together and it didn't work out, we'd lose everything. The company, our friendship, all of it. So I convinced myself that turning you down was the responsible choice. That I was protecting what we'd built."
Oscar looks stunned. "You felt the same way?"
"Yes," I whisper. "And then you left anyway, and I lost everything I was trying to protect."
The irony of it hangs in the air between us — how we both made choices thinking we were doing what was best, only to create the very outcome we were trying to avoid.
"For what it's worth," he says after a long moment. "I built an empire trying to prove that leaving was the right decision. That I could be successful without you, without Organic Now. But none of it filled the void."
I find myself leaning toward him slightly. "And all these years, I've been angry with you for choosing money over our dreams, when that wasn't it at all."
"No, it wasn't." His eyes meet mine, and the intensity of his gaze makes my breath catch. "And now here we are, twelve years later, and I'm still not over you, Alice."
The admission hangs in the space between us. I feel something crack open inside me — all the walls I've built to protect myself from him, from these feelings, beginning to crumble.
"Is that why you bought Rooted Pantry? Because I was there?"
He shakes his head. "I really didn't know you were there until I walked into that first meeting. That wasn’t a lie. But seeing you again… it felt like fate giving us another chance."
I laugh softly, but there's no humor in it. "Fate has a twisted sense of humor."
"Maybe," he agrees. "Or maybe it knew we needed time to grow into the people who could make this work."
My heart is pounding so hard I'm sure he must hear it. "Make what work?"
Instead of answering, Oscar reaches out slowly, giving me time to pull away if I want to. When I don't, his hand cups my cheek, his touch achingly gentle. "We wasted twelve years, Alice. I don't want to waste another second."
Time seems to slow as he leans in, his intention clear. This is the moment to stop this, to remember all the reasons why getting involved with Oscar again is a terrible idea. Instead, I find myself closing the distance between us.
The moment his lips touch mine, something electric passes between us. It's soft at first, tentative, as if we're both afraid this might shatter the fragile understanding we've just reached. But then his hand slides into my hair, and I grip the front of his shirt, and the kiss deepens into something hungry and desperate, as if we're trying to make up for over a decade of lost time in a single moment.
When we finally break apart, we're both breathing hard. Oscar rests his forehead against mine, his eyes closed as if he's trying to commit this moment to memory.
"I should have told you the truth years ago," he whispers.
"We both should have been braver." I touch his face, still not quite believing this is happening. "I never stopped having feelings for you, Oscar. I tried to bury them under anger and resentment, but seeing you again brought everything rushing back."
He kisses me again, softer this time but no less intense. When he pulls back, there's wonder in his eyes. "So where do we go from here?"
I take his hand, lacing our fingers together. The answer suddenly seems simple. "We could start with the hotel.”
CHAPTER 19
OSCAR
Ican't stop kissing her. Twelve years of wanting, of wondering what could have been, and now Alice is in my arms, her body pressed against mine as we stumble through the hotel corridor. Her lips are soft but insistent, her hands gripping my shoulders like she's afraid I might disappear if she lets go.
"Room key," she whispers against my mouth, and I fumble in my pocket, reluctant to break contact even for a second.
