Oliver's POV
I tap my pen on the desk. Why does this always happen? I went to her house to apologize and give her my blessing with her boyfriendânot that she needed any. But in a twist of events, I asked her to come home with me.
To do what? As who? I don't know. I would be lying if I said I didn't desire her. That's normal, right? The first time I saw her, I wanted her, but that's all I ever did. Marriage is more than just desire for someone.
Two days. That's how long she told me to wait. Two days have passed, and now I'm impatiently waiting for the phone to ring. Did she forget? Or has she gone back to Grey?
I'm stuck in this position, with no information or tools to work with other than to wait.
My secretary cracks the door open, her diary tucked close to her chest. "He's here, sir."
I straighten up. "Allow him in," I say. "Cancel my other activities," I add.
She nods and walks away, leaving me alone with my thoughts. A few minutes later, I see him walk into the room. It's been years since I last saw him, but the change is undeniable. People, especially my mother, used to say how much I resembled him. I hated that comparison back then, but I hated it more when they started comparing me to my father.
He looks worn down by lifeâweather-beaten, thinner, and older. His once sharp features have faded, leaving his gray eyes sunken and hollow behind bony eyelids. Cara would love seeing him like this, at his lowest. As for me, I feel nothing.
He enters with humility, heading for the seat and settling in, his eyes wandering around the office he once occupied.
The silence stretches for a beat too long before he speaks.
"I like how it looks now," he says.
What about when it was my father's office? That's something Cara would ask, but I'm not her, so I remain silent.
"I'm glad you finally agreed to see me," says my uncleâGina's father. He extends his hand for a greeting, and I ignore it, making sure he understands he's unwanted.
He drops his hand and shakes his headâa famous Cooper way of controlling anger.
"I've done my time," he says, his voice cracking slightly. "I've spent the last couple of years in prison, paid for my wrongdoings. The world should cut me some slack." His humility vanishes as his anger rises.
I let out a frustrated laugh. "You're something," I say for lack of better words.
"I'm sorry for what happened, but I think I deserve a second chance. I'm homeless, and no one's willing to hire an ex-con. Please, son," he begs.
"I'm not your son. We might share some blood, but we are not family."
"I regret everything, and all I want to do is make it right."
"You want to make it right? Bring my parents back to life. Erase the years my sister and I suffered. Until then, you're nothing to me." I bang my hand on the table.
He opens his mouth and shuts it again.
"See yourself out while you still can," I say, pressing the alarm for security.
"Gina?" he whispers.
"You're her father. It's her decision to make," I say.
He stares at me, his eyes watering, yet no sound or words come out.
"I just want to see her," he finally says.
Security is quick to respond. My uncle gives me one last look before surrendering and taking himself out peacefully.
I lean on my desk and sigh. I pick up my phone and call my assistant, instructing her to contact the housekeeper and tell Gina to come to my office.
There's a moment of stillness, a pause where I let myself sit with what just happened. The room feels empty, the air heavy. I should feel somethingârelief, closureâbut nothing comes.
Gina walks in a few minutes later, smelling strongly of earth. I immediately know she's high.
"Aww, is that for me?" she asks, pointing at the white box and flowers on my desk.
I shake my head, seeing the disappointment in her eyes. "Of course, they're for your wife," Gina says sarcastically.
"Your father was here," I say, getting straight to the point.
Her face falls, and she opts to sit down. "I've heard. Nothing goes unnoticed," she mutters.
"I want you to understand that I have a problem with him, not you," I explain carefully.
She purses her lips together. "What did he want? Did he say anything?" she asks, her voice suddenly nervous.
"He wants to see you."
She seems contemplative for a second. "My decision stands. I don't want to see him."
"I respect that. I hope you don't feel like you're choosing. You don't have to," I remind her.
Her smile barely reaches her eyes. "I..." She cuts herself off, clearly bothered. It's as if she has something important to say but can't bring herself to voice it.
I remain silent, hoping to ease her worries and get her to speak her mind. She shakes her head and feigns a smile. "Can I get a new car?" Her question is unexpected and unrelated.
"What?" I ask, surprised.
"All my friends have one, so why not?" she asks.
I shake my head. "Because you can't afford it."
It's ridiculous how the initial conversation has been abandoned, and now we're arguing about a car. She does this as a coping mechanism, distracting herself from the real issue.
"We'll be late today. Don't wait on me, and I expect you to be homeânot out partying."
"Are you starting to like her?" she asks, catching me off guard.
"I can't talk about my wife with you," I say firmly.
She seems surprised, but I won't drag Gina into my affairs or give her more reasons to clash with Jessie. They already have their differences, and I refuse to add my marriage to the list.
"Fine," she rolls her eyes and leaves my office.
Jessie's POV
I take a deep breath and step out of the elevator. Years ago, when I first walked into La Cooper job seeking, I was taken aback by its architecture and grandeur. It felt like stepping into another world. Back then, I thought if I just got my foot in the door, I could work my way to the topâGrey had encouraged me. But I never imagined that years later I'd still be changing sheets and now I an tied to this place in ways I never expected.
I'm immediately met by my mother when I enter their suite.
"What's this I'm hearing about you leaving your home?" she asks without hesitation.
"How do you know? Did Oliver tell you?" I ask.
"That boy is very secretive, but I have my eyes and ears everywhere," she says.
Then it hits me. "Do you have people in my house spying on me?"
She smiles.
Unexpectedly, I smile back. "I'm so happy, Mother," I say.
"Tell me, I want to know."
She would love to know.
"Grey and I are back together. He's changed," I state, watching her eyes widen.
"What do you mean? You're married, remember?"
"Oh, don't worry. Oliver's dying, and when he does, what he leaves behind will be mine. Grey and I will enjoy it. We just have to keep it a secret until then."
I don't think her eyes can widen any further. "Thank you, Mother, for making me marry Oliver. I wasn't seeing the bigger picture. With Oliver's money, Grey and I are set for life."
Every word leaves her speechless. "I love you, Mother." I move in and kiss her cheek. "I never doubted your intentions. Just don't tell Father or anyone about Grey and me." I turn on my heel and leave with a grin on my face.
Now I have to find Oliver, and the game begins.
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