Chapter 22

Zoya's POV

Everything is happening at a whirlwind pace. I can hardly believe how incredible Olivia has been to me since the day we first met, and her warmth and kindness have remained constant. Secretly, I've always longed for her to lean in and kiss me, and when it finally happened, I thought it would be everything I desired. But now, I realize it's left me craving more.

Now, all I want is for Olivia to be by my side in every way imaginable. I yearn to wake up to her radiant presence, to hear her words of endearment meant solely for me. Her eyes lighting up with sheer happiness at the mere sight of me is the image I can't get out of my head. I want to create memories together, cooking side by side, sharing showers, and snuggling up while watching our favorite movies. I'd even willingly surrender my popcorn this time.

Olivia has become my addiction, an extraordinary force I never saw coming. Yet, ironically, she's the addiction I didn't even know I needed. Now, all I crave is to experience the pure joy she brings, without that nagging doubt in the depth of my soul. I want to cherish every single moment our lips meet, without the fear of uncertainty creeping in.

I had this overwhelming urge to escape, even though deep down I knew running away wouldn't solve anything. My heart felt suffocated within my chest, and the pain was too intense to bear. I was lost, unsure of what to do or how to handle it all. The pain was so overwhelming that I was willing to return to the place I despised the most, the place I once called home before Olivia came into my life. I hoped that by going there, I could somehow find solace and clarity, but I already knew that the only true sense of home I could ever have is with her.

Sebastian's constant stream of texts asking about my sudden decision and whether Olivia was involved only added to my turmoil. Part of me wished I could confide in him and seek his advice, but I couldn't shake the feeling that sharing the intricate details of what had happened would be crossing a line. In the eyes of everyone around us, I was seen as a home wrecker, someone who had no right to make any demands or inflict any pain. To Olivia, I was likely just a nobody, someone insignificant in her life. I couldn't help but wonder if I was the first person she had ever kissed while being with Elijah, or if I even held any significance to her at all.

My own racing thoughts quieted as I rapped my knuckles against the old wooden door of my childhood home. After a few brief moments, the door creaked open, revealing my mother's face. At first, she appeared shocked, but that emotion quickly shifted to happiness.

"Zoya, what a wonderful surprise!" she exclaimed, stepping out onto the threshold and embracing me tightly.

"I had a few days off, and I thought it would be nice to come and visit you and dad," I replied, attempting to muster a smile.

"Oh... so you're not home for good?" she asked, disappointment seeping into her voice.

"Because you didn't have any free time in the past two years, Zoya?" My father's voice cut through the air from behind my mother, causing my muscles to tense.

"It's good to see you too, Dad," I retorted sarcastically.

"Come on inside," my mom urged, swiftly relieving me of my suitcase.

Giving my dad a curt nod, I briskly walked past him. Our relationship had never been a strong one; in fact, he had played a major role in my detestation towards this place. Every decision I made for my own life faced his disapproval. He had expected me to follow in his footsteps, become a surgeon, take over his hospital, and marry into a "good" family. The strain in our relationship only worsened when I came out as a lesbian, leading him to push me away for good. My mother, on the other hand, had always been passive, never taking any sides. However, I yearned for her support, even if it was just empty words.

"Your visit seems rather short," my mom commented, noticing the lack of weight to my suitcase.

"Just a couple of days. I have classes and work," I replied, surveying the unchanged house since my departure.

"Work? Is that what you're calling it now?" My dad chimed in, dripping with sarcasm.

"Don't start," I retorted, rolling my eyes without bothering to face him.

"Why don't you settle into your room, Zoya? I'll ask Cindy to prepare dinner," my mother suggested, disregarding the tension in the air as she always did.

"Marvellous, mother," I scoffed, mockingly alluding to the resemblance of our family dynamic to an episode of Desperate Housewives. Making my way to the room, I already felt a twinge of regret for my decision to come back.

Olivia's POV

The plane ride went smoother than I anticipated, with most people oblivious to my presence. I glanced at the address Ezra had sent, and promptly headed to the car rental desk. I could only hope that the destination was relatively close to the airport, as it was already nighttime and I didn't want to arrive late and unannounced.

Luckily, the drive turned out to be only 30 minutes. However, as I drew nearer to the house, I began to second-guess my impulsive decision. Who was Zoya visiting? Would I be welcomed? Could my presence make her uncomfortable? It all felt like a rash and irrational choice, but there was no turning back now.

With clammy hands, I summoned the courage to knock on the door of the expansive house. It struck me as unexpected, considering Zoya's modest apartment. Perhaps she was visiting someone else in her family, or maybe she found solace in smaller spaces.

A tall man opened the door, recognition clear in his eyes, yet his expression remained unchanged. It wasn't unwelcoming, but it certainly lacked warmth. Understandably so, considering I had shown up unannounced, as being a celebrity didn't grant me that privilege.

"Um, hello. I'm not entirely sure if I've come to the right place, but I was hoping to speak with Zoya," I stammered, nervously rubbing the back of my head as he stayed silent.

"She's helping her mother in the kitchen. Please, come inside, and I'll show you the way," he spoke, stepping aside and gesturing for me to enter.

"I appreciate it, but I think I'll wait out here for her," I replied anxiously, hesitating to venture inside.

"It's dinnertime. I insist you join us," he insisted, the hint of a smile playing on his lips. Realizing there was no easy way out, I offered a polite nod and followed him in.

Trying not to be rude, I avoided lingering glances. However, the walls adorned with pictures of a younger Zoya captured my attention.

"Apologies for my lack of manners. I'm Olivia," I interjected hurriedly, acknowledging my earlier unintentional rudeness.

"Pleasure to meet you, Olivia. I'm Omar, Zoya's father," he responded, briefly shaking my hand before continuing his journey toward the kitchen.

"Zoya, you have a guest," Omar announced as he entered the kitchen.

Zoya's eyes widened in surprise, quickly transitioning into horror as she exchanged glances between me and her father. It became apparent in that moment that my decision to show up unannounced was undeniably terrible.

"No way!" A voice captivated my attention, shifting my gaze from the stunned Zoya to the woman standing by her side. Undoubtedly, she was her mother, possessing the same eyes as Zoya, but Zoya's eyes were fiercer and more defiant.

The woman approached me, embracing me in a swift hug that caught me off guard. Though unexpected, I welcomed the warm gesture from at least one person in the household, even if she was a stranger.

"Wow, I've heard so much about you from Zoya," the woman expressed as she pulled away, a smile on her face.

"Really?" I smiled, filled with warmth at the thought of Zoya speaking about me.

"Well, not recently, since we haven't talked in years, but when she was younger, it was always 'Olivia this, Olivia that'," her mother chuckled, seemingly proud to embarrass her daughter like any ordinary mother would.

"Okay, Mom!" Zoya finally broke her silence. "I think she gets it."

"Sorry for dropping by unannounced. I was in the area for some business, and Ezra asked me to deliver this script to your house," I fabricated, clutching a few papers that belonged to a new advertisement contract I was on the verge of signing.

Zoya's expression shifted, briefly puzzled before comprehension dawned on her, and she nodded quickly.

"That's fine. We can discuss it in my room if you'd like," she offered as she began to walk away, not waiting for my response.

I offered a smile to her parents before turning to follow her.

"You're still joining us for dinner," Omar declared, and I giggled before nodding, grateful for his invitation.

I followed Zoya up the stairs in tense silence, struggling to keep up with her swift pace. She seemed incredibly angry.

Entering her room, Zoya closed the door behind me, creating an intimate space that matched the cozy and warm feeling of her apartment. The familiar scent of her presence put me at ease, releasing the breath I had been holding since hearing from Ezra that she had left.

Zoya stood by the door, her arms crossed tightly over her body as she silently observed me. Setting my purse down, I made my way towards her, intending to embrace her. However, before I could encircle her in my arms, she grasped my forearm, halting me in my tracks. The rejection stung, causing my heart to tighten in my chest.

"What are you doing here, Olivia?" she asked, her voice infused with coldness. Yet, her eyes betrayed a welter of unshed tears, confirming my intuition that I was on the verge of losing her.

"We need to talk," I said, exhaling heavily and bracing myself for what was likely to be the most difficult conversation I had ever had.