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“No, Oliver, don’t cry,” I pleaded softly.
“I thought you were gone for good,” he confessed, his voice strained with emotion.
“I just needed space. We should talk about everything,” I suggested, trying to ease the tension between us.
“I’m sorry I pushed you,” he admitted, his tone filled with regret.
“I’m sorry I didn’t handle it better. I’ve been miserable without you,” I confessed, reaching up to wipe away his tears, a small smile playing on his lips.
“I’m glad I wasn’t the only one. Why didn’t you call me?” he asked, his voice laced with concern.
“I wanted to see you in person. Why haven’t you gone to the office?” I inquired, trying to redirect the conversation.
“Working here is just as good. I’ve been in such a foul mood that my negotiation skills are better. I shaved a quarter of a million for a building I wanted to purchase,” he explained, a hint of pride in his voice.
“I thought you had people to do that?” I questioned, surprised by his hands-on approach.
“Sometimes, I like to take the helm. Congratulate your boyfriend on a job well done,” he replied, his smile widening.
“Let’s talk,” I suggested, taking his hand and leading him to the leather couch in his living room. Oliver remained close, as if he couldn’t bear to let me go.
“I’ll do anything you want. Don’t leave me again,” he pleaded, desperation evident in his voice.
“I didn’t leave you. I just needed space,” I reassured him, feeling a surge of affection.
“I know. I pressed too hard,” he admitted, his grip on my hand tightening.
“We should set some rules so this doesn’t happen again,” I proposed, hoping to find a solution.
“Like what?” he asked, willing to compromise.
“Maybe we could have a day or night apart each week,” I suggested tentatively.
“Day. I sleep better with you next to me,” he countered, his voice softening.
“I don’t want to neglect my friends and my brothers. I haven’t seen my parents since we got together. I should visit them,” I explained, wanting to maintain my connections.
“I can go with you,” Oliver offered, surprising me with his willingness.
“You want to meet my parents? You haven’t even met my brothers,” I pointed out, surprised by his sudden enthusiasm.
“I want to meet all your family,” Oliver insisted, his tone determined.
“I think you should meet my brothers first,” I suggested cautiously.
“Arrange it,” he commanded.
“Finley doesn’t have a lot of time. He’s busy with his business. Maybe we can have drinks or dinner with Matthew,” I proposed, trying to find a compromise.
“I’d like that. I want to know all about you,” he replied, his expression softening.
“Do you want me to sleep over tonight?” I asked, hoping for closeness after our recent rift.
“I would. I haven’t slept in three nights,” he admitted, his exhaustion evident.
“What are you going to do when you travel?” I questioned, concerned about our time apart.
“Pack you in my suitcase and take you with me,” he joked.
