Chapter 455 Oliver, Are You Crying?
Oliver checked on Jacob first.
Under the moonlit sky, his son slept peacefully in his ocean-themed bedroom, one arm draped outside the covers.
Sitting on the edge of the bed, Oliver gently tucked the small arm back under the blanket. As he stroked Jacob's cheek, he marveled at how quickly his son was growing up and regretted the time he'd missed. Once, he had viewed having children as merely continuing his bloodline. Now, because of Jacob, he knew firsthand the meaning of family—he genuinely wanted to witness every milestone in his son's life.
Jacob rolled over in his sleep, murmuring, "Daddy."
Oliver's heart swelled with contentment.
After sitting there for some time, he finally made his way to the guest bedroom. A soft bedside lamp cast a gentle glow over Sarah, giving her an ethereal beauty.
Nicole was nestled in Sarah's arms, her delicate face pressed against Sarah's neck, breathing sweetly in deep slumber.
Oliver smiled softly.
He sat on the bed, playfully pinched Nicole's cheek, then turned his attention to Sarah, his hands wandering beneath the covers.
Sarah's breathing quickened.
Knowing she was awake, he made casual conversation: "Do you like the room? I had it specially redesigned—a circular bed, just what women love."
In the dim light, his gaze deepened with mature desire. "Shall we move to the walk-in closet?"
Sarah closed her eyes gently.
Her hair spread across the pillow, framing her delicate face with a vulnerable beauty that Oliver found irresistible.
Just as things were heating up, Nicole stirred.
Half-asleep, she mumbled "Daddy" and climbed into Oliver's arms. "I need the bathroom," she announced drowsily, "and milk!"
Oliver held Nicole while glancing at Sarah.
She was flustered with desire. When she spoke, her voice was husky with need, "Take her to the bathroom first."
Oliver feigned reluctance. "Should I take care of you first?"
Sarah tossed a pillow at him.
Oliver chuckled, though he was equally aroused. With Nicole awake, he had no choice but to put things on hold. He carried her to the bathroom.
Nicole, independent and modest, insisted he wait outside.
It only took a minute or two.
Oliver quickly returned to the bedroom and stole a passionate moment with Sarah before the sound of running water indicated Nicole had finished.
He carried Nicole one-armed to the living area and prepared her milk. Still drowsy, she clung to his neck while keeping her round eyes fixed on her drink, as if afraid someone might take it.
Once the milk was ready, she clutched it eagerly, drinking in big gulps while nestled against Oliver. In the lamplight, she looked as pretty as a doll.
Oliver ruffled her hair and couldn't resist kissing her cheek.
After finishing her milk, Nicole rested contentedly on Oliver's shoulder. As usual, he needed to rock her gently to ensure she'd sleep through the night.
He patiently soothed her.
His broad back embodied the quintessential image of fatherhood.
Sarah watched him, experiencing a moment of genuine happiness. She slipped on a silk robe and embraced him from behind, wordlessly holding onto his shoulders.
Oliver tensed momentarily.
After a pause, he asked softly, "Have you forgiven me?"
Sarah shook her head at first.
Then she nodded. "A little," she said.
Oliver responded with a quiet "Hmm."
Though his tone was casual, his blue eyes grew moist where Sarah couldn't see. He had waited four years for her in Evergreen City, but he had waited much longer for her forgiveness.
She said "a little."
And truly, a little was enough.
Sarah sensed his slight trembling and hesitantly asked, "Oliver, are you... crying?"
The consequence of teasing a man was inevitable 'punishment'.
Once Nicole was asleep, Oliver carried Sarah to the walk-in closet, where she was both tormented and delighted. She playfully punched his shoulder.
Oliver laughed softly, treating her with tender adoration.
After a week back in the mansion, Sarah was enjoying life. Though Oliver came to her room every night for intimacy, he never mentioned remarriage or asked her to move into the master bedroom.
Once, he joked, "The closet is more exciting."
Sarah ignored him for two nights after that.
One weekend afternoon, she met Grace for coffee. Grace studied her face and remarked, "You're glowing! Things must be going well with Oliver."
Sarah blushed, stirring her coffee. "Yes, it's... nice," she admitted.
Grace was happy for them but could see that Sarah still harbored unresolved feelings about Lester, his wife, and Ellie. That would take time to heal.
Changing the subject, the women discussed parenting.
Taylor was easy to raise, while young Avery was already showing a rebellious streak.
Sarah smiled. "Jacob's too young to tell, but Nicole is such a good girl."
Grace, who adored Nicole, suggested, "We should match her with Avery! I think his strong-willed nature would complement her gentle personality."
Sarah looked troubled.
She didn't mind if Nicole wasn't academically brilliant, but whoever married Avery would bear children who would inherit the Montague family legacy. The joke made her uncomfortable, but Grace misinterpreted her reaction: "Or are you saving her for Jacob?"
Sarah deflected the question.
After two cups of coffee, Grace left for another appointment.
Sarah was about to head home when Oliver called. "Let's have dinner out tonight," he said cheerfully. "I've already spoken to Claire about Jacob and Nicole."
Sarah checked the time. "It's only three o'clock."
In the Windsor Group headquarters, Oliver lounged on his office sofa. The diamond cufflinks on his white shirt gleamed as he spoke into the phone, "I've torn several shirts this week. Could you pick up some new ones and ties while you're shopping?"
Sarah wanted to refuse but couldn't resist his persistence.
After hanging up, Oliver turned to Zoey, who stood nearby. Seeing his satisfied expression, she thought her villa was as good as hers. She'd overheard enough—several torn shirts!—and was secretly delighted.
Outwardly, however, she maintained professional composure. "Mr. Windsor, the meeting starts in ten minutes."
Oliver rose with elegant poise.
As they walked, he pretended to complain, "The Moores are such a handful! The young one won't leave me alone, and the elder one creates problems... they're giving me a headache!"
Zoey thought to herself, 'Men in love are truly terrifying.'
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