Chapter 448 Oliver: If Only You Saw What I See
The sudden pleasure forced a moan from Sarah's lips.
But she quickly steadied herself. She braced her hands against Oliver's chest, pushing as hard as she could, but the sheer difference in their strength rendered her struggle useless.
Turning her face away, she tried to sound firm despite her vulnerability. "You asked me to bring you a blanket just for this?"
"Yes," Oliver admitted, his voice rough with desire.
In the dim light, their eyes locked. The heat in his gaze threatened to consume her.
Just then, her phone rang. It was Nicholas.
She hesitated, but Oliver quickly pressed the answer button. Nicholas's deep voice came through, "Sarah, I was wrong today. Isaac fell and needed blood urgently—his life was at risk. I promise nothing like this will ever happen again."
Sarah tilted her head back, a flash of vulnerability crossing her face. Though she'd only spent months with the Moore family, emotional bonds had formed. She still remembered Matthew's rage that morning, the slap across Nicholas's face, the harsh words that cut through her as well—because in the end, she was the one who left.
She remained silent.
"Can we meet?" Nicholas pressed. "I want to apologize properly, then we can both apologize to Grandfather. We can put the past behind us... we're still family."
Sarah didn't know whether to laugh or cry.
Beside her, Oliver let out a cold laugh. He took the phone and spoke directly to Nicholas, "Family with the Moores? So she can be used and abused again? And you expect Sarah to apologize to that bastard? Dream on!"
"Stop harassing us," he continued. "Sarah and I are about to have some private time. I doubt you want to listen in."
With that, he ended the call.
On the other end, Nicholas stood at the end of a long hallway. The night breeze from a half-open window ruffled his hair as he clutched his phone, Oliver's words echoing in his mind.
In a sudden burst of rage, Nicholas hurled his phone against the wall, shattering it completely—just like his youthful love had shattered. The feelings he'd cherished so carefully, the woman he'd revered, was now in Oliver's arms. How could he bear it? What did Oliver have that he lacked?
In the deep of night, Nicholas breathed heavily, like a wounded animal.
His secretary, Eldon Soto, hurried over, distressed at the sight of the broken pieces. "Mr. Moore, why torture yourself like this? Your phone is beyond repair now."
In the darkness, Nicholas's clean-cut features stood out starkly.
"A phone can be fixed," he asked Eldon. "But can feelings be repaired? If not, what's the point?"
"Alright, alright," Eldon carefully removed the SIM card and swept the fragments into a trash bin. After finishing, he looked at Nicholas. "Mr. Moore, you should rest now."
"I need some time alone."
Eldon hesitated but eventually left.
The night was clear and cool.
Nicholas stood alone for hours, until the moon began to set. Then, with mechanical movements bordering on madness, he emptied the trash bin, scattering the phone fragments.
One piece, two pieces, three, four...
He couldn't put them back together.
He remembered a photo of Sarah stored on that phone—her sitting under the magnolia tree at the Moore Mansion, reading quietly. The moon hung above the treetops, and the rose-colored lamps cast a soft glow on her face. It was the most beautiful image of a woman Nicholas had ever seen. He had captured it impulsively and treasured it.
Now he had destroyed it with his own hands.
Nicholas sat on the cold floor, clutching the fragments, weeping silently.
It was broken—his past with Sarah.
Finally, everything had shattered.
Back in the apartment, Oliver set down the phone, his eyes burning as he looked at Sarah.
He turned off all the lights.
Perhaps in darkness, their reunion wouldn't feel so awkward. He could give in to his desires without restraint.
Nicholas's call had only intensified Oliver's passion. He loved her deeply, and she had feelings for him too.
There was no reason to hold back anymore.
All thoughts of gentle tenderness vanished from Oliver's mind. Now, only one desire remained: to make her his again.
"You bastard, Oliver," Sarah whispered hoarsely.
In the darkness, Oliver gently caressed her face, whispering intimate words between lovers. In the past, he rarely spoke this way, but now his love was genuine, and tender words came naturally.
"Stop, Oliver," Sarah protested weakly.
They had been married for years before their separation. All the longing they had endured now gave them reason to embrace.
In that moment, every ounce of yearning between them spilled over, turning into a passion that could not be contained.
With tears glistening in her eyes, Sarah called out Oliver's name, over and over.