Olivia's POV
After my full breakdown in the car, my whole body felt weak. My eyes stung, and my head hurt, but I knew I couldn't stay there forever.
I wiped my face with the back of my hand, took a deep breath, and reached into the back seat for Adrian's bag. It felt heavier than it really was as I lifted it and got out of the car.
When I stepped inside the house, Noah was standing right in front of the door, as if he had been waiting for me. His eyes went straight to my face.
I knew how I looked—eyes red, cheeks blotchy, expression tired. Still, I tried to give him a small, weak smile.
His jaw tightened for a moment. Then, without a word, he took the bag from my hand and tossed it gently to the side, where it landed near the wall.
"Hey—" I started, surprised.
He didn't give me time to say more. He took my wrists in his hands, not roughly, but firmly enough that I knew he was serious.
"Come with me," he said. "Please."
Before I could ask anything, he started pulling me toward the backyard.
"What's happening, Noah?" I asked as we walked. "Where are we going?"
"I need to tell you something," he said. "It's important."
We reached the backyard and sat down on the low wooden bench under the tree. The air was cool, and the sky was getting darker by the minute.
Noah turned to face me right away. There was no hesitation in his eyes.
"Adrian just needs to clear his mind," he said.
I blinked, confused.
"What?" I asked.
"I know him. And I know you."
He shifted his gaze to the small garden, watching the leaves move slightly in the wind.
"Adrian loves you too much," Noah continued. "If he could, he'd grab the stars for you and put them in your hands. He just heard things that hurt, and he needs time to process them. That's all."
His words hit me straight in the chest. Tears started to form again, blurring my view of the plants.
"That doesn't make what I did to him any less wrong," I whispered.
Noah shook his head slowly.
"I'm the one who made this worse," he said. "I should be the one apologizing."
He turned back to me, his expression soft and sad.
"I'm sorry," he said. "I'm sorry for causing a rift between you and Adrian. If I could turn back time, I wouldn't have done any of it. I wouldn't have kissed you. I wouldn't have pushed so hard."
My lips trembled.
"Noah…"
He gave a small, sad smile.
"But I can't turn back time," he said quietly. "So the least I can do now is stop adding more weight to your heart."
He slowly reached out and gently took my hand in both of his. His touch was warm, but not demanding.
"I was planning to go back to Crystal Bay tomorrow," he said.
I looked up quickly, surprised.
"Tomorrow?" I asked. "Already? Is it because of… this? Because of what's happening?"
He shook his head.
"No," he replied. "I mean, maybe a little. But that's not the main reason."
He took a breath.
"I have an idea for a new gallery exhibit," he said. "A good one. A theme I really want to work on. I need to go back and prepare. I need to focus on my art, on my work. I think… It's time."
I watched his face as he spoke. There was pain there, but also a kind of quiet resolve.
"What's the theme?" I asked softly.
He smiled faintly.
"I'll tell you when it's ready," he said. "But I need to be close to my studio, my supplies. I can't do that from here."
I nodded slowly.
"I see," I said.
He squeezed my hand gently.
"So," he said, his voice low, "take good care of Adrian for me, okay?"
My eyes filled again, but this time the tears were mixed with something like gratitude.
"I will," I said. "I promise."
He pulled me into a gentle, warm hug. His arms wrapped around me carefully, not too tight, as if he knew I might break if he held on any harder.
"Thank you," he murmured. "For everything. For believing in my art. For… being you."
I closed my eyes and let myself rest in that hug for a moment, knowing it might be one of the last quiet ones we shared like this.
Noah's POV
After our short but heavy conversation, Olivia stood up and took a breath. Her face was still tired, but there was a bit more steadiness in her eyes.
"I'll go wash Adrian's clothes," she said softly. "They're still in his bag."
We walked back into the house side by side. Inside, she picked up Adrian's bag from the floor where I had thrown it earlier. She held it close to her chest for a second, then headed toward the laundry room.
"I'll be in the living room if you need anything," I said.
She nodded without turning back.
"Okay," she answered.
A few minutes later, I was sitting on the couch, my phone in my hand. I was browsing for new paints and materials—different shades, better brushes, canvas sizes. I kept telling myself I needed to focus on the exhibit idea, that this was the right choice.
Then a loud, deep rumble rolled across the sky. The windows shook slightly.
"Oh," I muttered to myself. "I think it's going to rain heavily tonight."
Then I heard quick footsteps.
Olivia came rushing out of their bedroom, her face filled with panic. She headed straight to the entryway and grabbed the umbrella from the stand.
"Olivia?" I said, standing up. "Where are you going?"
She turned to me, breathless.
"I'm going to find Adrian," she said. "He didn't bring an umbrella. If the rain gets worse—"
"Hey, calm down," I said, raising my hands slightly. "At least wear your coat or a sweater. You'll get soaked."
"There's no time," she said, shaking her head. "He's out there, and I don't even know if he's somewhere dry."
Before I could say anything else, she ran to the door and pulled it open.
"Wait—your shoes!" I called out. "You're not even—"
But she was already outside, the door slamming shut behind her.
I stared at the closed door for a few seconds, the sound of the growing rain starting to hit the roof.
Her shoes were still in the cabinet. She had gone out in only a thin t-shirt and slippers, no sweater, no coat.
I let out a long breath and shook my head.
"See, Noah," I said to myself quietly, "you can't win against that kind of love."
How lucky can Adrian be?
If he could have seen how she looked while rushing out just now—hair slightly messy, eyes full of worry, not caring about herself at all, only about him—he would know.
He would know just how deeply she loves him.
Olivia's POV
The moment I stepped out of the house, the sky opened up.
I held the umbrella over my head, but the wind was wild, pushing the rain sideways.
"Adrian!" I called out, even though I knew he was too far to hear.
I had no idea where to start. I could only pray that he had gone to a neighbor's house, or that he had found a dry place to stay. But my heart wouldn't let me just sit and wait at home.
The rain grew heavier with every step I took. The wind tugged at the umbrella, making it hard to control.
Then, as I stepped on a patch of wet ground, my foot slipped.
My body tilted, and I lost my balance.
"Ah—!"
I fell forward, catching myself with my hands. Pain shot through my palm as it scraped against the rough ground. The umbrella flew from my grip and rolled a few steps away, pushed by the wind.
I hissed in pain and looked at my hand. The skin on my palm was scraped and red, tiny bits of dirt clinging to it.
I was about to push myself up and try reaching the umbrella when I heard someone shout my name through the rain.
"Olivia!"
I looked up.
Through the sheets of falling water, I saw Adrian running toward me. He was soaking wet from head to toe—hair dripping, shirt clinging to him, shoes covered in mud. His face was tight with worry and fear.
He reached me and dropped to his knees by my side.
"Are you okay?" he asked, his hands hovering over me, not sure where to touch first. "Did you hurt yourself? Can you stand?"
His voice was full of panic.
"I—I slipped," I said. "I'm okay, I think. My hand just… hurts a little."
He gently took my wrist and turned my hand over to look at my scraped palm. His eyebrows pulled together, and his jaw clenched.
"Look at this," he said, his voice shaking with anger and fear mixed together. "Why are you even outside? You should've stayed at home."
The rain hammered around us, but his voice still cut through it. He wasn't exactly shouting at me, but his tone was loud, sharp, filled with emotion.
"You're not even wearing a coat or a sweater," he went on. "And slippers? Really? In this weather?"
I stayed quiet, staring at the wet ground.
He noticed my silence and took a deep breath, trying to control himself.
"Why are you out here, Olivia?" he asked again, softer this time.
I lifted my head and met his eyes, rainwater running down both our faces.
"I was worried," I said simply. "You didn't bring an umbrella. I couldn't just sit at home and do nothing. I wanted to find you."
He stared at me, his eyes searching my face. For a moment, neither of us spoke. The rain was the only sound.
Then, without another word, he leaned forward and pressed his mouth to mine.
His lips crashed into mine with sudden force, all his fear and anger and relief pouring into that kiss.
We were both kneeling on the side of the road, soaked to the bone, water running down our clothes and hair, but none of that mattered.
I kissed him back, my hand gripping onto his shirt, pulling him closer.
For a few long seconds, the world shrank to nothing but rain and the warmth of his lips on mine.
Then I pushed him away, breathing hard.
"Wait—" I said, panting.
He looked at me, chest rising and falling, his hands still holding onto my shoulders like he was afraid I might disappear if he let go.
I took a few seconds to catch my breath. My heart felt like it was pounding right against my ribs.
Then I looked straight into his eyes.
"Adrian," I said, loud enough for him to hear over the rain. "Let's get married before winter comes."
He froze.
His eyes widened, shock written all over his face.
I smiled, even as rainwater ran over my lips.
"I don't want to wait anymore. I want to be with you. Really with you."
For a moment, he just stared at me, as if he was trying to make sure I was real.
Then, all at once, something in him broke open.
He pulled me into his arms again, tighter this time, and kissed me once more. The kiss was deeper, warmer, desperate, and full of promise.
I didn't drown in the rain that night.
But I was slowly drowning in the way his kisses grew deeper and deeper, in the way his arms wrapped around me as he would never let go.
In that embrace, everything about him said the same thing:
He wasn't planning on letting me go. Not in this lifetime. Not even in the next.