Chapter 371 OOliver, Are You Mocking Me?
"I was an exchange student at the time. I didn't have the time." . Time had been a luxury Natalie could ill afford. Every spare moment was consumed by part-time work; there was no other choice.
Oliver cast a sidelong glance at her, his tone teasing, a rare hint of a smile dancing in his eyes. "To think Mrs. Windsor was an exchange student at such a tender age. Quite impressive indeed!"
"Are you mocking me?" The incredulity in Natalie's voice was palpable.
He had to be making fun of her!
At the time, she had been a fully funded exchange student, a feat that might have impressed the average person. But compared to someone like Oliver, who was nothing short of extraordinary, she was merely ordinary.
"How could I dare to mock Mrs. Windsor?" Oliver's smile broadened, his eyes twinkling with mischief.
Natalie shot him a glare.
Seeing the animated expression on Natalie's face, Oliver fought back a smile and planted a kiss on her forehead.
He remembered his own youthful days in Europe, not as a student, but as a patient recuperating from a car accident. The memory was far from pleasant.
Had he met her back then, he wondered what his attitude towards her would have been. Oliver mused that he might have been kinder to Natalie in his younger days, his temperament having been milder then.
A chuckle escaped his lips as he entertained this whimsical thought.
During that period, his world had been confined to a hospital ward, later expanding to include the hospital's small garden. He never ventured beyond the hospital grounds. His only companions were the doctors, nurses, and Susan, who had cared for him during his temporary blindness. The likelihood of crossing paths with Natalie, an exchange student, was virtually non-existent.
Together, they strolled leisurely along the Seine, meandering through one street after another, the atmosphere serene and intimate.
Every so often, they would come across a tantalizing snack, and Natalie would pause to sample it.
Whenever Oliver spotted a piece of jewelry, clothing, or a bag that caught his eye, he would dismiss Natalie's protests and purchase it for her on the spot.
"I have so many clothes at home that I haven't even worn yet, and I rarely wear jewelry." Natalie wasn't being frugal. It's just that she really had too much.
Except for necessary occasions, Natalie had little interest in wearing jewelry. As for clothes, Oliver had a habit of ordering a selection from major brands for every season and having them delivered to the Rosewood Estate. She couldn't possibly wear them all.
"They look good on you," Oliver simply replied.
He wanted to shower her with all things beautiful.
Natalie sighed.
Well, she thought, he can afford it anyway.
Upon returning home, she could sort through the wardrobe and set aside some items to gift to friends and colleagues, or donate them to a charity banquet.
"But how are we going to bring all these things back?" Natalie gest ured towards the pile of items Oliver had purchased.
"Charles will handle it."
She couldn't help but feel a pang of sympathy for Charles, saddled with such a demanding boss.
That night, Oliver spent the night at the apartment.
It was his first time staying in such a small bedroom, but it was not as uncomfortable as he had anticipated. In fact, he found the experience rather enjoyable.
Due to the limited space, Natalie's movements were always within his line of sight. Oliver felt like the sight of this petite woman kept jumping from his left to his right, and vice versa.
It was as if she had filled up the entire world.
Oliver lay on Natalie's narrow bed, which was only about 5 feet wide. He occupied most of the space and silently stared in the direction of the bathroom, to the point where he could listen to the sound o f running water for an hour.
Finally, the bathroom door opened.
As Natalie emerged, she dried her hair with a towel.
Oliver got off the bed and motioned for Natalie to come over with a blow dryer. "Come here."
Naturally, Natalie sat on the vanity table, feeling the man take hold of her hair. The buzzing sound of the blow dryer in her ear provided a sense of comfort.
In the mirror of the vanity table, the man lowered his eyes and blew-dried her hair, carefully handling each strand, as if he was crafting a work of art.
His expression exuded earnestness and devotion.
"Honey," Natalie spoke up.
Oliver made a humming sound, lifting his gaze momentarily before returning his focus to his meticulous "work."
"I am very happy today."
Two seconds passed before Oliver finally set down the blow dryer. He lightly ran his fingers through Natalie's hair, ensuring it was dry, before bending his tall frame to envelop the woman in his arms. He held her there for a moment before gently lifting her and placing her on the bed.
Though he remained silent, Natalie could sense his good mood. His emotions were elevated, akin to a proud and contented cat, yet his face betrayed no hint of this inner joy. His happiness, it seemed, was contingent on hers.
"Go to sleep, darling," Oliver murmured, pressing a kiss to the woman in his arms and holding her close without further movement.
Natalie gazed up at him, her eyes wide in mild surprise. Oliver's eyes remained closed, yet he seemed to possess a third eye, observing Natalie with uncanny accuracy. He tapped her forehead lightly.
"Don't want to sleep? Want to do something else?" he asked, his eyes still closed.
"Sleep! I don't want to!" Natalie quickly shut her eyes. She had a performance the following day and didn't dare engage in any antics with Oliver, despite her initial intentions. If Oliver truly desired, she was willing to... accommodate him once or twice.
After a moment, Natalie opened her eyes again. "Honey, I have my last show tomorrow night. Will you come and watch?"
"I have to leave tomorrow morning," Oliver replied, his eyes still closed.
Natalie felt a pang of disappointment, but she understood Oliver's demanding work schedule. He was often found perusing documents even during car rides.
Once Natalie's breathing had settled into a steady rhythm, Oliver opened his eyes. He looked down at the woman sleeping peacefully in his arms, a smile tugging at the corners of his mouth.
After a while, the cellphone on the bedside table flashed. Oliver dimmed the screen brightness to its lowest setting and opened an email from Charles. It contained a series of photos taken by a street photographer, a photographer Oliver had instructed Charles to hire.
The girl had refused to show him the pictures, but he had found a way!
Oliver's focus was solely on Natalie, ignoring his own presence in the photos. He flipped through the dozen or so images repeatedly, watching Natalie's polite, elegant smile transform into a playful, spoiled expression.
If he could, he would protect that smiling face until his last breath.
On the Next Day, when Natalie awoke, Oliver was already gone. It wasn't until her mind cleared that she vaguely remembered Oliver rising early in the morning. She recalled his soft whisper in her ear, "Baby, goodbye," and the gentle pat of his large hand on her back, coaxing her back to sleep.
Natalie sat on the bed in disbelief, questioning whether she had been hallucinating.
Could Oliver truly behave in such a manner?
Despite her doubts, her heart pounded in her chest, and a smile tugged at her lips.
Finally, Paris Fashion Week was drawing to a close, and Natalie was preparing for her final show. This was a fashion show for a top international brand, and Natalie, as the finale model, was the envy of all the top international models.
This was especially true for a model named Doris who had opened the show. Doris had been the most promising supermodel in the past five to six years, highly regarded by many in the industry. If it hadn't been for Natalie's sudden rise, Doris would have secured the closing position for this show.
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