Olivia's POV
After coming home soaking wet, Adrian and I headed straight to our room. Water dripped from our clothes onto the floor, and my hair stuck to my face.
"Let's get you dry," he said quietly.
We grabbed towels, wiped our faces and hair, and changed into dry clothes. The sound of the rain outside was still loud, like the sky hadn't calmed down yet, even if we had.
Noah wasn't in the living room or the kitchen.
"He must be in his room already,"I thought.
Adrian and I went to bed. He lay on his side and pulled me close, his arm around my waist, my back against his chest.
"Are you warm enough?" he whispered.
"Yeah," I said softly.
The room was dark except for a faint light from the window. I closed my eyes and listened to his breathing. It rose and fell slowly, in sync with the muffled sound of the rain outside. The two sounds blended like a soft rhythm, and little by little, sleep pulled at me.
Later, I turned in my sleep, reaching toward his side of the bed.
My hand touched nothing but cool sheets.
My eyes opened. The space beside me was empty.
I frowned and reached for my phone on the nightstand. The screen lit up: 4:00 a.m.
"Where did he go?" I whispered.
I got out of bed and walked quietly toward the door. Just before I touched the doorknob, I heard faint voices from somewhere in the house.
Two voices. Noah's and Adrian's.
I couldn't hear the words clearly, but I knew it was them. The low, serious tone was different from their usual teasing.
"They must be talking," I thought. "About… everything."
For a moment, I stood there, wondering if I should go out, if I should try to listen or join them.
Then I let my hand fall away from the door.
"No," I decided. "They need this. Just the two of them."
I went back to bed and lay down again, staring at the ceiling for a while.
Whatever they were saying out there, whatever they needed to let out, I knew it was their moment.
So I closed my eyes and let them have it.
Noah's POV
It was almost around four in the morning when I woke up, my throat dry.
I lay there for a moment, listening. The rain had become a softer patter now, but it was still there, steady.
I slipped out of bed, opened my door, and walked quietly down the hallway. The house was dim, lit only by a bit of light from outside. I went into the kitchen, took a glass from the cabinet, and filled it from the pitcher.
I was on my way back to my room, glass in hand, when I heard a door open behind me.
I turned and saw Adrian step out of his bedroom. He squinted at me like he was making sure I was real.
"You're up," he said, rubbing his eyes.
"Yeah," I replied. "Got thirsty."
He groaned.
"Me too, actually," he said.
He walked past me toward the kitchen. I watched him for a second. I could have just gone back to my room, closed the door, and pretended everything was simple.
But something in me said, "This is the time."
"Adrian," I called softly.
He stopped and looked back at me.
"Yeah?"
"Can you… spare me some time?" I asked.
He raised an eyebrow, his expression somewhere between disbelief and tired amusement.
"Now?" he said. "At this hour?"
I shrugged a little.
"It might be better now," I answered. "Olivia's not around."
He stared at me for a moment, then a small smile tugged at his lips.
"Okay," he said.
He glanced at the glass of water in my hand, then at the kitchen.
"I guess a cup of coffee is better than water for a talk like this, right?" he added.
I nodded.
"Yeah," I said. "Coffee sounds right."
I went to the living room and sat on the couch. A few minutes later, he joined me, carrying two cups of coffee. He handed one to me and sat down beside me.
For a short moment, silence ruled.
No words. Just the sound of the rain outside and the faint clink of our cups when we set them down.
My heart was beating fast, but I knew I had to speak first.
I took a breath.
"Adrian," I said. "I'm sorry."
He glanced at me.
"For what exactly?" he asked, his tone calm but curious.
"For being a jerk," I said. "For acting so immature and crazy. For… everything I did that hurt you and Olivia."
I waited for him to respond.
All I heard at first was a snort.
I turned my head and saw him trying hard not to laugh.
"Seriously?" I said. "You're laughing?"
He caught my glare and tried to sit up straighter, forcing his face into a serious look.
"Okay, okay," he said. "I'm listening."
He took a sip of coffee.
"Go on."
"I just apologized with my whole heart," I said, my voice low but intense. "And your reaction is 'okay'?"
He leaned back on the couch, a half-smile on his lips.
"Okay… and?" he said.
I stared at him, shocked, then lightly slapped his arm.
"Are you for real right now?" I whispered loudly. "I almost stole your girlfriend, and you're laughing and saying 'okay and?'"
He chuckled, then shook his head.
"Almost," he said.
He turned his head and met my eyes.
"Try harder next life, boy," he added with a smirk.
I blinked at him, confused.
"That's it?" I asked. "That's all you have to say?"
His expression shifted, a bit of the humor fading.
"I have a lot I could say," he answered. "But I don't want to keep digging into what happened. To be honest, I'm tired of replaying it."
He sighed, then spoke more slowly.
"People make mistakes," he said. "You did. Olivia did. I did too, in my own ways."
He looked down at his coffee cup.
"I forgave Olivia," he continued. "So I forgive you as well."
He lifted his eyes again.
"You both knew you messed up. You already apologized. So I'm going to move on."
I stared at him, trying to read his face.
"If this happened to other people," I said quietly, "they might react differently. They might break up. They might cut ties with family."
He smiled, a softer one this time.
"I'm not them, though," he said.
He leaned back and let out a breath.
"My love for Olivia and my love for you are my priorities," he went on. "I can't, and I won't lose her. I'm not letting that happen. And you…"
He paused, then looked at me directly.
"You're my brother. My only brother. My younger brother. And I love you."
Silence fell over us.
His words went straight into my chest, breaking something open. My eyes started to burn. Before I knew it, tears were spilling down my face.
He looked at me and suddenly laughed.
"Look at you," he said. "Crying already."
I slapped his arm again.
"Yeah, that's real brotherly love," I said, my voice cracking. "Laughing while I'm crying."
He reached over, put a hand on the back of my neck, and pulled me toward him. My head ended up resting against his chest.
"Stop crying," he said, his tone joking but his hand warm and steady. "You don't look good with a crying face."
Even through the joke, the way he held me was comforting. His heartbeat under my ear was steady.
After a little while, he spoke again, this time with a teasing tone.
"So," he said, "did you want to kill me back when I stole Olivia from you in university?"
I sat up straight right away, wiping my wet face with my sleeve.
"Oh, if only you knew how much I wanted to punch your face back then," I said.
His eyes widened.
"Seriously?" he asked. "You'd do that?"
I grinned weakly.
"Can I do it now?" I joked.
"Try next time, boy," he replied, then poked my side.
I jumped and shoved him back. He laughed and poked me again. Soon we were both messing around like kids, pushing each other, laughing in the dim light as if it were years ago and nothing heavy had ever happened.
After a moment, he stopped and turned to me with a more serious expression.
"But really," he said, "you should make better choices now, okay? Don't keep acting immature. Learn to grow up."
I nodded.
"I know," I said. "That's why I'm going back to the city later."
He froze.
"What?" he asked. "Why?"
I took a breath.
"I want to live more maturely," I said. "I want to focus on my work and my craft now. On my art. I think it's time I really commit to it."
He listened quietly, then nodded slowly.
"Okay," he said. "Just don't lie to Mom and Dad and say I kicked you out of Wrenford because you tried seducing my girlfriend."
I burst out laughing.
"Fine," I said. "I'll tell them I left on my own."
He chuckled.
"You're still welcome here," he added. "Anytime you need an escape, this house is open for you."
That made me smile, real and warm.
"Thank you," I said.
He hesitated, then his face brightened a little.
"I have good news too," he said.
I raised an eyebrow.
"Yeah?"
"You might come back to Wrenford sooner than you think," he said. "With Mom and Dad."
"Why?" I asked.
He grinned.
"Because Olivia is finally ready to marry me," he replied. "She told me she wants to get married before winter comes."
For a moment, there was a small ache in my chest, like a tiny crack.
But at the same time, seeing how his whole face lit up when he said the word "marry" made me happy—genuinely happy—for them.
I remembered asking him once why they weren't married yet. I thought he was the one waiting. But now I knew—it was Olivia who hadn't been ready until now.
"They're the end game," I thought. "They always were."
I smiled at him.
We sat there a bit longer, two brothers with coffee cups in our hands and a storm finally starting to calm, both outside the house and inside our hearts.