Olivia’s gaze dropped. She noticed the envelope in his hand. "What is that?"
Leo didn't want to hide anything from her. He never wanted to build walls between them again. "It's the final package from Nash," he said honestly, stepping forward. "Amanda was arrested last night. She tried to hit James with her car."
Olivia’s eyes widened, but she didn't gasp. She didn't look shattered the way she might have months ago.
"Nash sent photos and the police report," Leo continued. "This is the last thing he'll ever send. My contact with him is officially over."
Olivia walked over and pulled the photos from the envelope. She stared at the images of James and Amanda turning violently on each other in the flashing police lights. She just shook her head, placing the photos back on the bench.
"They deserve each other," she said quietly.
They do,Leo agreed silently.
The legal proceedings would still take a few months to fully untangle, but with the proof they had acquired—James’s recorded confession, Amanda’s damning statements, the airtight evidence of the affair, the recovered financial records, the corporate fallout, and now Amanda’s attempted vehicular assault—the remaining cases were no longer about whether Olivia could prove she was wronged. They were strictly about how much James and Amanda were going to lose.
But Leo did not want to spend the rest of their afternoon talking about the man who had hurt her.
He smiled, reaching out to take her flour-dusted hand. He pulled her toward the door leading to the kitchen. "Come on. Show me this perfect frosting."
They stood side-by-side at the kitchen island, falling effortlessly into the warm, intimate rhythm they had built together over the past few weeks. It had been a much-needed breather for both of them—a quiet, sacred space to try to get life back to normal.
Olivia explained the final texture of the buttercream, her hands moving with expert precision. Leo watched her fingers as she worked, absolutely mesmerized. He helped her stack the dense, fragrant cake layers. He handed her the offset spatulas and piping bags when she asked for them. She corrected his clumsy attempts at smoothing the edges with deep, sparkling affection, their shoulders bumping as they leaned over the counter.
When it was finally finished, they took a collective step back to look at it.
The cake was an absolute masterpiece.
It was a three-tiered ivory cake with a clean, elegant finish, but it was purposefully not perfect in a traditional, polished, bridal way. The frosting carried a faint, deliberate texture—tiny, uneven ridges and intentional, jagged cracks running through the lowest tier, as if the striking beauty of thedessert had been built directly over deep damage instead of untouched perfection.
Forest green ivy wound around the tiers in thin, twisting vines, climbing from the fractured base to the top like something wild and alive reclaiming the cake. The leaves were a rich green—some fresh and incredibly vivid, others deeper, almost shadowed. Tucked sparingly among the creeping vines were small, midnight burgundy roses. They were rich, velvety, and dramatic, placed with such intention that they felt meaningful rather than merely decorative.
At the base of the cake sat one single, bright yellow macaron. It was almost startling beside the pale ivory frosting and the dark, gothic florals. It brought a brilliant pop of sweetness and light, a vital reminder that the cake was still a dessert, still something meant to be tasted and thoroughly enjoyed, even with all the darker symbolism wrapped around it.
Beside the macaron rested a small, meticulously crafted antique pocket watch made of sugar, giving the entire design a profound sense of time, secrets, endless waiting, and everything that was revealed too late.
Leo was overwhelmingly proud. Not just of the breathtaking cake, but of the fierce, resilient woman who had created it.
"I'm going to call itSweet Lies," Olivia said softly, her eyes tracing the sugar vines.
Leo looked at her, surprised. "Why?"
She turned to him, her brown eyes impossibly warm. "I didn't create this cake because of what happened to my marriage, Leo. I created it because of you and me."
Leo’s breath hitched in his throat.
"Because nothing is sweeter than our story," Olivia explained, reaching out to rest her hand against his chest."Because even surrounded by omissions, half-truths, things left unsaid, and the small lies we told ourselves just to survive... we still found our way here."
Leo felt the truth of her words resonate deep in his bones. He understood exactly what she meant. He had lied to himself for years by aggressively pretending that being her friend was enough. Olivia had lied to herself by thinking he was only a safe harbor and nothing more. They had both hidden things, from each other and from themselves.
But somehow, those sweet lies had carried them directly to the truth.
It was not a cake about a perfect love. It was a cake about surviving vicious lies, finding the absolute truth beneath them, and discovering that something sweet could still grow out of everything that tried to ruin it.
The air in the kitchen turned thick, tender, and incredibly romantic. Leo looked down at the woman who held his entire heart in her flour-covered hands.
"Then let me do this properly," Leo murmured, a soft, playful smile touching his lips. "Go on a first date with me."
Olivia let out a bright, beautiful laugh. Not because it was funny, but because after everything they had fought through, the idea of a traditional first date felt both ridiculous and perfect.
