Chapter 40
Valerie’s pov.
Oliver and I were in the midst of setting up the dinner table for our grandfathers. I watched Oliver as he moved around the kitchen with cupcakes in the oven, his hips swaying to some unheard rhythm, an air of contentment about him. It was baffling to see him so carefree, especially considering the weight of the situation.
“What the hell are you so happy about?” I couldn't help but snap, my patience wearing thin. Oliver turned to me, his face scrunching into a mild frown.
“What? Valerie, I'm just glad things are turning out better than expected,” Oliver's response was casual as if this were just another day in paradise. He placed a plate of bolognese spaghetti at the center of the table, arranging the bread and salad meticulously on the sides.
“What are you talking about?” I frowned, still struggling to grasp his seemingly unwarranted happiness. Was he just relieved that his family was off the hook? Was that all that mattered to him?
“Eden coming forth and saving us, helping us out of this mess,” Oliver explained, setting a glass pitcher of water on the table and arranging cans of soda, even remembering everyone's preferences, including my grandfather's. Had he been paying such close attention?
“Ah, yes, the savior Eden, our angel,” I rolled my eyes and walked away to retrieve the cupcakes from the oven. The sweet aroma filled the house, a stark contrast to the tension in my mind.
“Valerie, I've never seen you this jealous before,” Oliver's voice was laced with amusement. He joined me by the oven, his hand gently tilting my chin to meet his gaze. His touch was careful, his eyes studying my face.
“I'm not jealous, I'm frustrated with you,” I met his gaze with equal intensity.
“Valerie, if it wasn't for Eden, we'd probably be in a much worse state,” Oliver began, and with each word, the realization hit me harder. I had been so focused on my own feelings that I'd failed to see the bigger picture.
“Her grandfather was planning to frame us, plant false evidence on my family. It could have torn us apart because you, Valerie, trust in evidence and I would too,” Oliver added, and suddenly, I understood why he was so elated. His happiness was about not losing me, while I had been self-absorbed, making everything about me.
“Oliver,” I whispered, my eyes welling up with tears.
“Valerie, we've been given a gift – the truth and the means to bring justice to Mr Montgomery,” Oliver held my hands, his lips brushing against my knuckles. “Why are you so upset, love? You were aware that you were kidnapped, that there was a possibility, weren’t you?” He managed to grasp the core of my distress without needing me to spell it out. That’s what he was – an empathetic wizard.
“I guess I always wanted to believe it was a mistake, an accident maybe. Like someone took me by accident, or maybe they desperately wanted a child and took me, then regretted it and left me,” I confessed, shattering the illusion that had shielded me for years, the delusion that now lay in pieces with the unveiling of the truth.
“Oh, Valerie.” Oliver pulled me into a tight embrace.
“I would have never imagined that someone could take me away from my safe haven just for greed, that an innocent baby was nothing more than an obstacle in his pursuit of wealth,” I admitted, a heavy sigh escaping me as I rested against his chest.
“I understand, I hadn’t looked at it from your perspective,” Oliver apologized, planting a tender kiss on my forehead. “I’m sorry about everything, Valerie. I promise to make the rest of your life the best it can be, erasing those painful years.”
“I love you, Oliver,” I leaned up, on my tiptoes, and gently kissed his lips.
“I love you more, Valerie.” His arms tightened around me, and our kiss deepened, a mixture of passion and reassurance.
Our moment was abruptly interrupted by the glare of two car headlights and the sound of car doors slamming shut. Then came the insistent ring of our doorbell, as if impatience had taken physical form. Oliver and I dashed to the door, realizing that despite giving them a 15-minute gap, both our grandfathers had arrived simultaneously.
“What's the meaning of this, Mijo? Why is Theo here?” Pedro’s voice was stern, his gaze locking onto my grandfather, who returned the intensity.
“Valerie, care to explain?” My grandpa’s eyebrow shot up as he looked at me, his eyes demanding an answer.
“Grandpa, Mr. Pedro, we have something important to share with you,” I said softly, taking my grandpa’s hand and guiding them inside. They followed us to the living room. My grandpa’s gaze remained fixed on Oliver, a look that could probably burn a hole through him.
“And no, I haven’t gotten your granddaughter knocked up– yet. So don't worry your pretty head,” Oliver's response was cheeky. I wasn’t entirely sure of his intention, but it managed to diffuse my grandpa's tension, even if it set my mind on a different train of thought.
“I will though, one of these days,” Oliver whispered to me mischievously, giving my ass a playful spank when no one was looking. I shot him a stern look, but he just chuckled softly, his eyes dancing with amusement. Luckily, our little exchange went unnoticed as everyone else was preoccupied with their own glares and tension.
“The two of us and only us at the table? This can’t mean well.” Grandpa’s voice was tinged with skepticism as he eyed the plates I had just set down.
“What is it that you two are so eager to discuss?” Pedro’s gaze locked onto us, his eyes penetrating as Oliver pulled out my chair for me.
“Well, we, uh, had a private investigator do some digging and such,” I started to explain, grappling for the right words. It wasn’t every day you revealed that you had been pawns in someone else’s game driven by greed, along with the revelation of the motive behind my kidnapping and the identity of the perpetrator.
“Understand that ever since Valerie and I got together, there’s nothing we desire more than harmony and peace. We want to be a real family, not locked in this perpetual cold war.” Oliver’s hand covered mine on the table, causing everyone’s gazes to snap to our linked hands.
“And what exactly do you think a mere sit-down can achieve to change all of this?” Grandpa’s voice held a hint of skepticism as he shifted in his seat.
“Please, Grandpa, just hear us out,” I let out an exasperated sigh, wishing this conversation was over already. Their hostility wasn’t exactly boosting my confidence to reveal our findings.
“Alright,” he grumbled, grabbing his soda and pouring it into the waiting glass of ice.
“As Valerie hinted, we conducted some investigations and, well, how do I put it delicately?” Oliver looked at me, his eyes conveying a message. He was itching to rip the band-aid off, a move I had initially advised against but was now beginning to see the perks of it.
“You both were manipulated years ago, played like pawns in someone’s game,” I said the words without hesitation, embracing Oliver’s earlier idea of being direct.
“You executed your roles flawlessly, but the player failed to achieve his objective and only grew more malicious,” Oliver continued, his gaze unwavering as he held the two men’s increasingly puzzled expressions.
“Enough with the cryptic talk, spill the whole story,” Pedro scoffed, abandoning his food momentarily to focus on us.
“Grandpa, we've discovered who was behind my kidnapping,” I looked directly at him, watching as a whirlwind of emotions flickered across his face before settling on confusion once more.
“It was Eden’s grandfather. She played a crucial role in helping us gather all the evidence we needed.” Oliver’s explanation was thorough, his grip on my hand reassuringly steady amidst the tension that hung in the air.
“Montgomery?” Grandpa’s forehead creased in concentration, as though he was trying to retrieve a distant memory.
“Yes, Montgomery. He would have soon framed the Martinez family too, but Eden intervened and disclosed everything to us,” I began to recount the story that Eden had shared with us. It was a tale of betrayal and greed that seemed to be nothing but the truth. “Years ago, he orchestrated manipulations, causing you to miss the meetings and revealing your dirty laundry to the public,” I added, turning my attention to Pedro.
“No, this can’t be real.” Pedro’s disbelief was evident, but it quickly morphed into a conflicted expression. “Why would he do this?”
“Because he felt that he deserved the same wealth and reputation that you both enjoyed. He was jealous of your success and felt abandoned by you,” Oliver further elaborated, spilling the information we had gathered through our investigations. It appeared that Montgomery knew our grandfathers, and attended the same class but still, they weren’t as close and Montgomery was driven by a sense of entitlement.
“Abandoned? He was too busy chasing women and partying every night.” Grandpa’s frustration was clear as he discarded his napkin in agitation.
“Evidence. I need concrete evidence to support these claims.” Pedro’s tone was demanding, his hand rhythmically tapping on the table’s surface.
We presented the evidence they had asked for, and the atmosphere grew even tenser. While both men seemed to believe the legitimacy of the evidence, their anger was far from being weakened. Their anger was primarily directed at the realization that they had been unwitting pawns in Montgomery’s game, regardless of the fact that he had ultimately lost. They pressed for more details, particularly about the nurse who had been involved, but the nurse had vanished with a ton of money and no doubt a new identity. As I watched the two men grapple with their wounded pride and the bitter pill of deception.