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As much as I resisted it, I found myself keeping my distance from Oliver. I prayed I wouldn’t run into him at work. He had pleaded with me all Sunday night to change my mind and come back over, but I remained firm in my decision.
Three days later, I couldn’t shake the sinking feeling that maybe it wasn’t the right choice. He had gone silent on me, and I feared it spelled the end of our relationship. What I had thought would give us both space seemed to have backfired, leaving me longing for him more than ever.
I missed him terribly. After work on Wednesday evening, I rode the elevator up to his office floor. Oliver typically worked late into the evening, and we often met afterward to share a meal and spend the night together. I hoped fervently that he wasn’t in a meeting or, worse, out of town.
The receptionist had already left for the night, and most of the office staff had cleared out. A few executives remained in their offices, and I prayed Oliver was among them. I passed Henri in the hall, and he stopped to talk to me.
“Can I help you with something, Miss Stewart?” he inquired politely.
“I’d like to see Oliver if he isn’t busy,” I replied, trying to keep my voice steady despite the nerves churning in my stomach.
“Mr. Fox hasn’t been in the office for the past few days. He’s been working from home,” Henri informed me.
“I didn’t know that. We haven’t…I haven’t seen him,” I admitted, feeling a pang of guilt.
“I’m sure he would welcome your call,” Henri offered kindly before nodding and continuing on his way.
I sighed heavily, my heart aching once again. Oliver seemed to be taking our separation harder than I had anticipated. Shouldn’t I be the one paralyzed with sadness, considering my age? With a heavy heart, I made my way back downstairs. A light drizzle had just begun to fall, and I hurried down the sidewalk, eager to escape the melancholy that threatened to consume me.
“Miss Stewart?” a familiar voice called out.
I looked up to see Vlad standing at the curb, holding the door open for me. His presence was unexpected, and I couldn’t help but wonder if Henri had sent him to fetch me or if Oliver himself had made the request. In the month since I had started dating Oliver, I had never addressed Vlad personally, but now I felt compelled to seek answers.
“Vlad?” I said tentatively.
“Yes, Miss Stewart?” he replied, his tone formal as ever.
“Ryleigh, please,” I corrected him, hoping for a more personal exchange.
“I prefer to address you as Miss Stewart,” he insisted stoically.
I sighed inwardly, pressing on. “Is Oliver all right?”
“Mr. Fox is under the weather,” Vlad informed me cryptically.
“He’s sick?” I asked, concern flooding through me.
“He’s unhappy,” Vlad clarified, his words heavy with meaning.
“I guess that’s my fault,” I murmured, feeling a pang of guilt.
“I’m taking you to him,” Vlad announced abruptly.
“Thank you,” I replied softly, grateful for the opportunity to see Oliver, even if it meant facing the consequences of my actions.
Behind my eyes, a stinging sensation threatened tears, but I held them back. I didn’t deserve Oliver. Fifteen minutes later, Vlad pulled up in front of Oliver’s building. He offered me a tight smile as he opened the back door, and I stepped out, walking into the lobby where the concierge directed me to go right up to the penthouse.
Oliver was waiting for me, looking worn and haggard. Dark circles shadowed his blue eyes, and wrinkles I hadn’t noticed before marred his usually smooth face. Dressed casually in black shorts and a light blue t-shirt, he stood barefoot, his expression stoic as I entered the room.
“Oliver…” I began tentatively.
“Shut up, Ryleigh,” he growled, cutting me off.
“I’m sorry,” I whispered, feeling the weight of my actions.
“I said, shut up,” he repeated sharply.
I fell silent as he approached me, forcefully taking my purse from my hand and dropping it to the floor. He pressed his lips to mine with such intensity that I was sure they would bruise, gripping my hair so tightly it hurt. I remained silent until I felt wetness on my cheeks. Opening my eyes, I saw tears streaming down Oliver’s face. I pulled away gently.
