Jessie's Pov
"Yes!" I jump up in joy when Layla says yes. I am over the moon at her excitement. I momentarily forget I was recording the entire scene, getting carried away by the moment.
I watch as Layla and Fred are surrounded by friends, family, and acquaintances, all offering their congratulations. Layla seems overwhelmed with happiness. She deserves it.
She peels herself away from the crowd and heads toward my direction.
"A heads-up would have sufficed," she states, and I can't tell if she is happy or not.
A familiar scent has me whip my head up to find its source. I see Grey walk in with a gift in his hand. I should have expected to run into him since we have the same circle of friends. Although, in this case, he is Fred's financial advisor, and it grew into a friendship.
He walks to Fred and hands him the gift with a smile. "I should chase him away," Layla says, walking away before I can speak.
She goes and pulls Grey from the little crowd into a more private space. They don't seem to be in agreement, and after some minutes, I see her return. "I am going to swallow Fred for inviting him," she says.
Grey heads toward us, and I stand there waiting. "Hi?" he says briefly.
"Hi," I reply.
"You look nice," he says.
I don't answer, afraid that if I do, I'll be inviting him for unnecessary interaction.
He takes a deep breath and speaks again. "Can you come over the weekend?" he asks.
He is unbelievable.
"I am married," I reply.
He chuckles. "Stop being full of yourself. I'm not hitting on you."
"But if I was naked on the internet, you would," I snap back.
His mouth curls into a sideways smile. "Oof, Jessie, still salty. Didn't peg you to be still hung up," he says, his voice dripping with exaggerated surprise.
"Please. Your narcissistic persona can only wish," I hiss.
"Narcissist? You just throw words around. Thank God I no longer have to deal with this anymore. And yikes for your husband."
"You can go," I say.
"Come over on the weekend," he repeats his initial request.
"I'm not coming. I'd rather be with my husband."
"You can bring him along," he says, smiling at the disbelief on my face. "Iris wants to see you," he adds before walking away.
Iris?
Oliver has been gone for a week, and he's coming back today. I had to leave Layla's party early to meet him at the airport. I am overly anxious because, surprisingly, I miss him, and a lot of things were left pending.
I keep glancing at the time, second-guessing my decision to surprise him here at the airport. Are we even there yetâat the stage where I can do things like this?
We've only just started to understand each other. So many things are still unsaid, and there are still so many important conversations that haven't happened.
I don't even know what's acceptable between us, where the lines are drawn. Am I overstepping?
My thoughts scatter the moment I see him coming toward me. Before I can think twice, I'm already moving, hurrying to close the distance.
He looks up, surprised, just as I leap into his arms. His coat and briefcase tumble to the floor, but he holds me tight, laughing softly.
"Careful," he murmurs, his voice warm. "You'll have me wanting to travel more often if this is the welcome I get."
Before I can say anything, I see Lucy emerge. Oliver had already told me that he would be traveling with her. They are friends, but also co-founders of a motor vehicle assembling school for the needy. They went to open another one.
Slowly, Oliver puts me on the ground. Lucy joins us.
"Isn't this sweet?" she says, and I find myself looping my hand through Oliver's in a protective manner. "Hi, Jessie," she acknowledges me.
"Hey, Lucy," I say as Oliver moves to pick up his items from the floor.
"Let's go home; I have a very bad jetlag," he says.
I glance up at him to see if his health has improved or deteriorated.
I want to ask him to make Layla his personal nutritionist to ensure he eats well. It's a topic I don't know how to breach, and I hope that when we get home, I'll have figured out how to.
I came in a cab, and we find Oliver's driver waiting on him outside.
The driver opens the door, and Oliver gestures for me to get in first. I slip into the seat, assuming Lucy has her own way home, but to my surprise, she slides in right after me. Oliver climbs in last, taking the seat at the far end, with Lucy now sandwiched between us. He leaves comfortable space between them.
But Lucy shifts closer to him, closing the gap. I brace myself, expecting him to ignore it, Grey would have, giving all his attention to her while I faded into the background.
It's what I've come to expectâbeing overlooked, emotions sidelined.
Instead, he surprises me.
"Lucy," he says, his tone polite but firm. "Could you sit on the other side? I wanted to show Jessie some of the foundation plans."
Lucy is surprised too, almost disappointed.
I glance at him, stunned. He's looking at me, a quiet warmth in his expression, as if he genuinely wants me to be part of this moment.
In that moment, something shifts insideâwarmth, a feeling I've never known before. It's as if all the careful walls I've built are starting to tremble, an unfamiliar, almost dizzying lightness filling the spaces between.
I've never felt this before. Never.
Is this how it feels to matter?
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