Her body reacted before her grief-stricken mind could throw up a shield. She reached for him, her hands landing flat against the solid, racing heat of his chest.
The kiss made her feel things she knew she had no right to feel right now. Not while her heart was still broken and bleeding. Not while she didn't know where the grief ended and the wanting began.
But the kiss also awakened something deep in her chest that she could not deny. Something that terrified her because it was not empty. It felt like Leo. It felt like safety, and fire, and something infinitely more.
That was what scared her the most.
Olivia gasped, pulling back sharply. She touched her swollen lips, staring at him with wide, frightened eyes.
Leo realized what he had done instantly.
He cursed under his breath, stepping back so fast he nearly stumbled. He dropped his hands, swiping a hand roughly through his hair. "I'm sorry. God, Liv, I'm so sorry. I don't know what I was thinking. I shouldn't have done that. Not now."
Olivia did not know what to say. Her thoughts were a chaotic, scattered mess. Her lips still tasted like him. Her heart was hammering a frantic rhythm against her ribs. Her mind was full of college memories, his devastating confession, and the terrifying realization that the kiss had not felt wrong in the way she expected it to. And then the brutal reality of James, the betrayal, and the lawsuit came rushing back in to crush the air out of her lungs.
A sharp beep cut through the heavy silence.
The oven timer.
Olivia remained frozen against the counter, unable to move a single muscle.
Leo turned away first. He grabbed an oven mitt, opened the hot door, and pulled the apricot pie out. He set it down carefully on a wire cooling rack near the stove. The delicate, sweet scent of baking fruit and honey filled the kitchen—a painful reminder that something so lovely had come out of a moment that now felt utterly impossible.
"I think... I think I am going to go upstairs," Olivia said. Her voice sounded distant and hollow, like she was still trying to find her way back into her own body.
Leo stopped her gently, holding a hand up. "No. You stay. You don't have to run from the room just because I made a mistake."
He grabbed his keys off the island. "I'm the one going out. I need to clear my head."
He paused near the archway, his voice rough with heavy regret. “Brooklyn will be back soon, so you won’t be alone for long. Call me if you need anything.”
Olivia stood there, watching him walk out of the kitchen. She did not ask him to stay. She didn't even know if she wanted to.
She heard the front door open, and then it closed hard behind him.
Olivia stood in Leo’s kitchen with the scent of apricots around her and the taste of him still on her lips.
For a moment, when Leo kissed her, her heart had moved toward something that was not pain... And that scared her more than anything.
Chapter 19
Olivia
The rented house in Dilworth was quiet. It didn't feel like home, but it was temporary—a place where Olivia could finally breathe without feeling like a burden.
Her parents normally lived in Hendersonville, North Carolina, a peaceful mountain town tucked away in the Blue Ridge Mountains. They were supposed to return home after their month-long trip to Europe, unpack their suitcases, rest, and settle back into their quiet retirement routine. Instead, they had come straight to Charlotte from the airport. They had rented this house on a short-term lease, refusing to be more than a few miles away while their daughter figured out how to survive the wreckage of her life.
Olivia stood at the kitchen sink, washing a coffee mug. She thought about how difficult it had been to tell them the truth.
She hadn't just told them her marriage was in trouble. She had told them everything.
The missing marital funds. The alienation of affection lawsuit James had weaponized against Leo. How James had actively tried to manipulate her friends, shaping the narrative before Olivia could even find the words to explain herself.
And worst of all, the part she could barely choke out: walking into her own bedroom and finding James with Amanda.
The conversation had broken her parents in different ways. Her mother, Karen, had cried quietly, pulling Olivia into her arms in a way that made Olivia feel like a frightened child again. Her father, Robert, had become very still. His posture had grown rigid, his expression too composed—a terrifying, silent fury that Olivia knew meant he wanted to dismantle James piece by piece.
Karen had wanted to call James immediately. Robert had wanted to drive to James’s office with a lawyer and a baseball bat. Olivia had been forced to beg them not to make any decisions for her. She was profoundly grateful for their fierce protection, but she needed to reclaim control of her own life.
