Noah's POV
The next day started simple, and for a while, it felt almost perfect.
Olivia made breakfast—eggs, toast, and some fruit on the side.
"You're on coffee duty," she said.
"Yes, ma'am," I replied, grabbing the kettle.
We moved around each other easily in the kitchen. There was no awkward silence, no strange pauses. Just the soft clink of cups, the sound of oil in the pan, and small jokes here and there.
At lunch, I helped her cook. I chopped vegetables while she stirred the pot.
"Careful with your fingers," she said. "I don't want to explain to Adrian why you're missing a thumb."
I grinned.
"If I lose a thumb, I'll blame you," I said. "I'll say you distracted me."
She laughed and shook her head.
"Unbelievable," she muttered, but there was warmth in her voice.
In the afternoon, we watered the plants in the yard. She handed me the hose, and I tried not to drown the flowers.
"Gentle," she said. "You're not putting out a fire."
"I'm trying," I answered. "They're just… very thirsty."
We had tea later, sitting in the backyard with two cups between us, watching the sky change colors as the sun slowly went down. We talked about random things—funny memories, a show she wanted to watch, how peaceful the town felt.
For a while, it was easy to pretend everything was fine.
After dinner, I went to the bathroom for just a moment. When I came back out, I heard her voice before I saw her.
She was in the living room, phone pressed to her ear, her back half-turned toward me. The sound of her laughter reached me first. I stopped in the hallway and leaned quietly against the wall, out of sight.
"Are you eating well?" she asked into the phone. "Don't just drink coffee, Adrian."
His muffled voice came through the speaker, too soft for me to make out the words, but I could hear the tone—familiar, light, teasing.
She laughed again, the kind of soft, sweet laugh that seemed to spill straight from her heart.
"I know, I know," she said. "Just… come back safely tomorrow, okay?"
There was so much excitement on her face. Her eyes were bright; her smile stretched wide and open.
And then, like a slow, sharp knife, the truth slid in.
I realized something I should have noticed a long time ago.
Her smile for Adrian and her smile for me were not the same.
The smile she wore while talking to him was tender and glowing. It screamed love even without words.
The smile she gave me was warm, yes—but it was easy, casual, friendly. Like a soft light, not a burning flame.
In that moment, I got the answer I had been searching for, even if I hadn't wanted to.
Even if she never said it directly, it was clear: Adrian held the keys to her heart. Not me.
From the shadowed corner where I stood, I felt something wet slide down my cheek—a tear.
I quickly wiped it away with the back of my hand and took a slow breath. I forced my lips into a fake smile, practicing it for a second like a mask.
Then I walked toward her, each step steady, even though it felt like part of me was cracking inside.
I sat down beside her on the couch, close enough to hear Adrian's voice through the phone.
"Hey," I said lightly. "Is that Adrian?"
She looked at me and smiled, lifting the phone a bit.
"Yeah," she said. "Do you want to talk to him?"
Honestly, I didn't know what I would say if I took the phone. I didn't trust my voice. I didn't trust myself.
So instead, I leaned closer to the phone and shouted,
"Hey! Don't forget to bring me a souvenir, or I'll replace you!"
Adrian's laugh came loud and clear through the speaker.
"In your dreams," he said.
Olivia smiled between our voices, and for a moment, it sounded like nothing was wrong. Just three people sharing a joke.
After another minute or two, their call ended.
"Call me when you're about to come home," she said.
"I will," he replied. Then the line went quiet.
She lowered the phone and placed it on the table. For a second, the room felt strangely still.
In that moment, something inside me whispered:
If this is the last time you get to be close to her like this… don't waste it.
So I took a slow breath and moved.
Without asking, I gently lay down on the couch, resting my head on her lap, my body stretched out along the cushions.
She stiffened in surprise.
"Noah—what are you doing?" she asked, looking down at me.
I looked up at her, trying to keep my voice light but honest.
"Let me stay like this for a while," I said softly. "Just a little. Please."
Her eyes searched mine. She didn't ask why. Maybe she already knew.
After a moment, she relaxed and leaned back against the couch.
"Okay," she said quietly. "Just for a while."
I took her hand in mine, raised it to my lips, and pressed a small, gentle kiss on the back of it. Then I held her hand against my chest, right where my heart was beating too fast.
Her fingers tensed for a second, then softened. I felt her take a deep breath and sink deeper into the couch cushions.
I closed my eyes. For a short, fragile moment, it felt like the world had narrowed to just this: her hand in mine, her warmth close, and the quiet echo of a love that would never really be mine.
Olivia's POV
While I was talking to Adrian on the phone, I sat facing the window. Outside, the sky was already dark, and the glass showed a faint reflection of the room behind me.
As I listened to his voice, my eyes drifted to the reflection in the window. In the glass, I could see Noah standing in the hallway behind me, partly hidden in the shadows. He wasn't moving.
He looked like he was very far away, even if he was only a few steps from the room.
A moment later, in the reflection, I saw Noah lift a hand to his face. He wiped at his cheek.
He cried. I knew it.
My heart squeezed a little.
A few seconds later, Noah stepped into the room with a smile on his face, as if nothing had happened.
We joked, we laughed, and I let it flow like normal. But somewhere under my ribs, something felt heavy.
And now, a little later, he was lying on the couch with his head on my lap.
My heart felt heavy, like it was filling with something I couldn't name.
I knew I needed to prepare myself for something. A confession. A truth. A moment that might change everything.
But not now.
For now, I let my shoulders relax and leaned back into the couch.
I let my eyes close and focused on the simple feeling of his hand around mine, the weight of his head on my lap, the quiet in the room.
I didn't pull away.
I didn't say anything.
I just let Noah hold on to me, for now, knowing that soon, very soon, we would have to face whatever this was growing between us.