Page 134 of At His Beck & Call

“You’re not going anywhere.” Her eyes harden as she glares at me, and I match her look with a glare of my own. “So… you’ve met my mother.”

“Apparently,” she says, still scowling. “If you had justexplainedwhy you were in the hospital that day, maybe we would’ve known about that a little sooner.”

“Lissa—”

“But why would you tell me anything important about your life? It isn’t as if I actually matter to you!”

“Wait a second?—"

“You sent me away without explaining anything. You gave me my freedom, practically finalized my divorce, helped me get Henry back, saved his life with the money I earned from you, and then you just dismissed me as if I didn’t mean anything.”

I stare at her, so many words clumping on my tongue, as if they are trying to force their way out of my mouth. But I can’t utter a single syllable. The idea that she has just walked into my house and given me everything I ever wanted is so alien that my brain can’t form a full thought.

I don’t deserve love. I’m too broken. Too shut down.

“You’re just scared to let somebody know you.”

My chest cracks open at those words, and it isn’t Lissa struggling to breathe anymore—it’s me. It’s as if there’s a war inside my body between my heart and my head. One wants to dance with joy, and the other wants to bury itself in cement and never move again.

“Oliver?” Lissa is on her feet, her hands coming up to frame my face. There’s a tiny pause before her skin touches mine, as ifshe’s not sure if it’s allowed, and as her soft fingers run over my cheeks, I let out a long shuddering breath. It feels like I’ve been holding it for weeks.

“I’m not scared,” I attempt, trying to get back some semblance of control. “What we had between us wasn’t real. You were only there because I was paying you to be.”

My hands encircle her wrists, ready to pull her away, but she won’t let me, tipping my head up toward her to meet my eyes as she stares deep inside me, to places no one has seen before.

“And what am I doing here now, then?” she asks simply. “Am Irequiredto be here? Or have I chosen to be?”

I shake my head, mortified to feel tears begin to well in my eyes.

She’s so incredibly beautiful, and I don’t deserve her kindness, her sweetness.

“You don’t even know me,” I whisper as she gently rests her forehead against mine.

“I’ve known you since the first day we met. The first time I set foot in your office, I knew I had found something I’d never had before, Oliver. And I don’t want to lose you. We both deserve some happiness, don’t you think? After all this time?”

“Well said.”

Lissa pulls away from me, turning to my mother, who’s standing on her walker in the doorway, looking directly at me, a sad smile on her face.

“I could pinpoint the exact day you started working for my son, Lissa. He was happy. Content for the first time. He just didn’t know it yet.”

Lissa turns back to me, placing a gentle kiss on my lips as I put a trembling, tentative hand against her hip.

“What if it all falls apart?” I whisper as she leans in close, holding me tightly against her.

“Then we’ll just try again until we put it all back together.”

I sit with Lissa on the couch for an hour, talking about anything and everything, my body wrapped around hers. My mother shuffles into the room periodically, bringing us some tea and cookies and muttering at me for being a terrible host.

Truman is curled up on the floor beside us, and Lissa puts her head in my lap.

I close my eyes and play with her hair, stroking it reverently as the snow keeps falling outside.

“Where’s Henry?” I ask, and she looks up at me with a little smile.

“He’s with Bethany at my apartment.”

“Can he come over here?”