Page 122 of When I Was His

“You want me to walk around a theme park?” Oliver chuckled, amusement dancing in his eyes.

“It would be fun. Maybe Vlad would crack a smile,” I teased, imagining our stoic bodyguard amidst the whimsical charm of the park.

“There would be more than Vlad with us. It’s a big park,” Oliver pointed out, a note of practicality in his voice.

“Have you ever been there?” I asked, eager to learn more about his past.

“Many years ago. Jonah disappeared, and we spent two hours looking for him. My mother was livid when she found him enjoying an ice cream sundae without a care in the world,” Oliver recounted, a fond smile tugging at his lips.

“How old was he then?” I inquired, intrigued by the glimpse into Oliver's family dynamics.

“I was twelve,” Oliver calculated, his brow furrowing in concentration, “so he was about nine.”

“He was a troublemaker from the beginning, wasn’t he?” I mused, the pieces of Oliver's past coming together in my mind.

“He was a handful. My father kept him in control,” Oliver admitted.

“But he went off the rails when he died?” I ventured, sensing the weight of Oliver's unspoken words.

“Yes. He was into some pretty bad shit. I caught him with drugs. He stole a car and got arrested a few months after my parents died. By the time he was eighteen, I washed my hands of him. I couldn’t stop my life to try to get him to straighten out,” Oliver said, shaking his head.

“That must have been hard,” I sympathized.

“I tried to be supportive over the years. I’ve given him money and used my pull to get him out of trouble. I can’t do it anymore,” Oliver admitted, a sense of resignation creeping into his voice.

“I’m sorry. I wish things were different for you,” I murmured, my heart aching for the burdens he carried.

“They are different now that I found you. My life was empty until I found you. You make me whole,” Oliver confessed, his gaze tender as he met my eyes.

“I think your life was pretty busy with your business,” I countered, a smile tugging at the corners of my lips.

“But I had no personal relationships,” Oliver admitted, his vulnerability shining through.

“Why? I saw plenty of pictures of you with women,” I pointed out, curiosity getting the better of me.

“They were, are, acquaintances. They merely escorted me to events,” Oliver explained, a hint of weariness in his voice.

“That reminds me, why haven’t we attended any events?” I questioned, the thought occurring to me for the first time.

“We will. I prefer to keep you to myself for the time being. There will be plenty of publicity surrounding our engagement,” Oliver reassured me, his hand reaching out to brush a strand of hair from my face.

“Should I be worried?” I asked.

“Not at all. Vlad will be with you, and now that you’re working for Fox, you’ll have security during the day,” Oliver assured me.

I yawned, exhaustion settling over me like a heavy blanket. “I don’t want it to be disruptive.”

“It won’t. You won’t get disrupted by Vlad, do you?” Oliver teased, a playful glint in his eyes.

“Not really, though he is pretty intimidating,” I admitted, recalling Vlad's imposing presence.

“Vlad intimidates you?” Oliver's surprise was evident, his eyebrows arching in disbelief.

“Not me. I have a feeling he’s a big pussy cat,” I confessed, a smile playing at the corners of my lips.

“I assure you, he’s not. You haven’t seen him in action,” Oliver insisted.

“I hope never to,” I replied with a shudder, the image of Vlad's formidable demeanor sending a chill down my spine.

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