Chapter 187
Derek’s brow furrowed, his confusion cutting through the heavy tension like a dull blade. “I don’t remember us ever having this conversation, Liv,” he said, his voice flat. “I’m pretty sure I’d remember a domestic summit.”
Olivia shook her head, a small, sad smile touching her lips. “Well, it wasn't exactly a conversation about living together, and we weren't even together then. It was a few weeks after we met—back when you were looking for the loft. We talked about long-term reality, and you made it very clear that you never wanted to get married… Something about the relationship losing its spark after,”
Derek’s frown deepened, his shoulders squaring as he stepped further into her space. “Okay, fine. I remember the talk. But what does a hypothetical wedding have to do with us moving in together now? We’re happy. Why does a piece of paper change the fact that I want you in my space and in my bed every morning?”
“Because it’s not about the paper,” Olivia said, standing and closing the distance between them. She looked up at him, her eyes bright with a sudden, sharp clarity. “If your reaction to the idea of marriage is a wince, then why move in together at all? What’s the point, Derek?”
He looked genuinely unfazed, his gaze softening for a fraction of a second. “The point is to be closer. To be happier. I’m at my best when you’re around. I like coming home knowing that you'll be there, and I thought you felt the same as well.”
“I do,” she countered, her voice rising. “But then what? We move in together and just... wait? Wait until the novelty wears off? Wait until we’ve memorized each other’s habits and realized we’re just playing house until one of us gets bored and calls it off?”
“I would never get tired or bored of you,” Derek growled, the first sparks of genuine anger flickering in his dark eyes. His patience was officially gone. “Every moment I spend with you makes me feel even more addicted to you, if that's possible. I do not see a single reason why I'd be bored,”
“Then what’s the difference, Derek?” she challenged. “If you’re so sure about me, why is the 'M-word' still a death sentence?”
“I'm pretty sure I never said that it was,” Derek shoved his hands deep into his pockets, shrugging with a nonchalance that felt forced. He looked at her, his expression unreadable. “I honestly don’t understand. Is this your way of telling me you want a ring? Because if this is your version of a proposal, Liv, it’s pretty shitty.”
The words were a slap. Olivia’s hand flew to his chest, giving him a hard, frustrated shove. He barely moved an inch, solid as a mountain, but the impact echoed through the room. “Screw you, Derek,” she hissed. “I’m not some desperate woman hunting for a husband. But I’m also not going to pretend that I don’t want a future that includes a family and a man who isn’t afraid to claim me in front of the world.”
“I’m sorry,” Derek muttered, “That’s not what I meant, and I have no problem claiming you in front of everyone who matters to me. All my loved ones already know how much you mean to me, and if —”
“I’m not asking for a ring today, and even if I did want to get married, would that be so bad?” Olivia interrupted, her voice trembling with the weight of her honesty. “I won't move in with you knowing that there’s a ceiling on how far we can go. I won’t take that step knowing it’s the last one we’ll ever take together.”
“And how is a marriage certificate different from what we have now?” Derek asked, his voice low and dangerous. “Does a priest make us love each other more?”
“Yes!” Olivia took a final step, their bodies nearly touching, her heat radiating against his cool leather jacket. “It is different whether you want to admit it or not. You make vows to one another when you get married. You declare your love in front of everyone who matters. You decide, officially, to start a family. I want to have kids someday too… A real family, just like my parents, and just like your parents too. I'm not ashamed that I want that, Derek. And if all you’re offering is a shared zip code until we get exhausted by the effort, then I’d rather stay right here.”
“Liv…” he began, his voice breaking. “That's not what I'm offering and you know it. You make it sound so… Basic… So simple, but it's not,”
“Well, I'm sorry, but it is to me. I know you’ve been hurt,” she said, her hand moving to his chest again, gentle this time, her palm flat against his hammering heart. “But the fact that you’re still looking for alternatives just shows you’re still holding back. You’re still afraid of the fall. I'm all yours Derek. I love you. I have no plans of going anywhere and I need you to believe that,”
She stood on her tiptoes, her lips brushing the rough stubble of his cheek in a kiss that tasted like a goodbye, which did nothing good for his nervous system. Her breath tickled his ear, a soft, devastating warmth. “I want the whole package, Derek. I need to know it’s at least on the table. If it’s not... then I’m not sure I want to take any steps at all, and maybe things will just have to stay as it is.”
Her scent—vanilla and warm skin—swirled around him, and despite the fire in his gut, Derek’s body betrayed him. His hand instinctively lifted to her waist, his fingers digging into the silk of her robe, pulling her a fraction closer. The magnetism was still there, raw and undeniable.
“Derek…” she murmured against his neck, feeling the pull as well.
The sound of his name seemed to snap him back to reality. He let his hand drop as if she’d burned him. He didn't say another word, then he turned on his heel and headed for the door, the heavy thud of his boots the only sound in the apartment until the door clicked shut behind him, leaving Olivia alone in the silence of her fortress.