CHAPTER SIXTY THREE

DALLAS

I couldn't stop my feet from wandering forward, relishing on the soft breeze that blew my hair. I took in the most beautiful sight I've ever seen.

A small yard stretched out before us. Roses, lilies and daisies curled around lantern poles. The table was adorned with soft white linens, flickering candles, and tiny jars filled with wildflowers that matched the garden’s blooms.A small crystal clear lake snaked its way through the middle with a small table nearby holding food, wines and assortment of different snacks and treats.

The conversation I had with Oliver sometime ago while we were in Seoul flashed across my mind.

We passed by a cozy home near the Gangnam river one day while we were sightseeing. I gushed about how perfect it was. I could still remember our words. I had spurted about liking the house, what it meant,blah blah and Oliver had shrugged it off nonchalantly, groaning about how it's just a small house made of wood. What I hadn't imagine is him taking me right to the place

“You like it?” Oliver asked, snapping me out of my thoughts

“What do you mean ‘I like it’? I fucking love it”
I replied, taking in the whole sight.

I felt his hands graze my shoulders gently, grounding me in the moment. "You said you loved this place back then. Thought it might make a good backdrop for... this."

"This" turned out to be more than I could have imagined.

I turned back to Oliver, my eyes brimming. "This is... so much more than I expected."

His lips curled into a soft smile, the kind that made my chest tighten. "You deserve everything, Dallas. And this? This is just the start."

The way he said it sent a shiver down my spine, but before I could overthink it, he extended his hand. "Shall we?"

I placed my hand in his, and he led me to the table. We sat across from each other, and as the evening unfolded, I realized he had thought of everything.

The meal was an exquisite mix of all my favorite dishes, mostly Korean delicacies. How he knew that information was still a mystery to me. Every detail felt intentional, as if he had paid attention to every word I’d ever spoken.

"How do you remember all these things?" I asked, taking a sip of the exquisite red wine. It was one of the finest wines I've ever tasted.

Oliver leaned back in his chair, his gaze steady. "You think I wouldn’t notice the things you care about? I could never forget them, Dallas."

My breath hitched as my gaze locked with his. I could feel the sincerity of his words in my bones. The way he said it…no one has ever talked to me like that. My heart swelled with joy and a feeling I'd rather not acknowledge. Not now.

I tore my gaze away from him, swallowing hard.

“How do you do it?” I asked again, placing my fork down after taking a bite of the most perfectly cooked salmon.

“Do what?” he asked

“This,” I gestured around, the candles, the food, the stunning lake reflecting the moonlight. “You make me feel like I’ve stepped into one of those romance novels.”

He smirked, leaning forward, resting his elbows on the table. “Maybe I’ve been reading them too. Picking up pointers.”

I rolled my eyes. “You? Reading romance? I’m more likely to see you scaling a mountain or glaring at someone for breathing too loudly.”

“I’m full of surprises,” he replied, taking a sip of his wine.

“Clearly,” I said, my voice softening. I looked down at my plate, the sudden tenderness of the moment making my chest ache. “You know, I didn’t think you had it in you.”

He raised an eyebrow. “To pull off a decent date?”

“No,” I said, looking up at him, holding his gaze. “To care this much. About me.”

There it was again—that flicker in his eyes, like he was waging some internal battle with himself. He leaned back, letting out a slow breath. “You make it impossible not to, Dallas.”

I blinked, startled by the admission. Oliver wasn’t the type to hand out his emotions on a silver platter.

“Oliver...” I started, unsure of what to say.

“Don’t ruin it,” he cut in, his smirk returning, though it didn’t reach his eyes. “Let me have this moment without you psychoanalyzing me to death.”

I laughed, the tension breaking. “Fine.”

“Of course you are.”

The banter carried us through the rest of the meal, but every now and then, I’d catch him watching me—his gaze lingering just a second too long before he’d look away.

After dessert, a rich chocolate mousse that I swore was the best thing I’d ever tasted, he stood and offered me his hand again.

“Dance with me,” he said, his voice low.

I looked up at him, startled. “Oliver, we don’t even have music—”

“We don’t need it.”

The look on his eyes left no room for argument. I took his hand, and he led me to the edge of the lake, the grass soft under my bare feet.

He pulled me close, one hand settling on my waist while the other held mine. For a man who hates showing emotion, his movements were surprisingly gentle, deliberate.

“You’re full of surprises tonight,” I murmured, resting my head against his chest.

“Don’t get used to it,” he said, but there was no bite in his tone.

I looked up at him, my lips curving into a smile. “You’re terrible at this whole romantic thing, you know.”

“Am I?”

“Completely. But I guess it’s part of your charm.”

He smirked, leaning down slightly. “Charm, huh? That’s what we’re calling it now?”

Before I could retort, his lips brushed against mine. They lingered on mine for a few seconds, silently seeking permission. I gently parted my lips.

The kiss was gentle, so unlike all the kisses we've shared. My toes curled and I deepened the kiss, not wanting it to end soon.

When he pulled back, his hand still lingering on my waist, I let out a breath I hadn’t realized I was holding. “Okay, maybe you’re not terrible at this.”

“High praise,” he said dryly, but there was a small, genuine smile on his lips.

We stayed like that for a while, swaying to the rhythm, until the cool breeze reminded us of reality.

“Come on,” he said, tugging me back toward the table. “We’re not done yet.”

“More food?” I teased. “You trying to fatten me up?”

He didn’t answer, just started walking toward the lake. My curiosity burned as I followed.

As we rounded a bend, A house came into view.

Lanterns illuminated the path to the front door, and it was ike a scene straight out of a dream.

I stopped dead in my tracks, my breath hitching. "Oliver…"

He turned, his expression unreadable. "What do you think?"

"What do I think?" I repeated, laughing softly in disbelief. "It’s… perfect. It’s like something out of a fairy tale."

He walked ahead, his hand still firmly holding mine. "Come on. There’s more."

We stepped onto the porch, the wood creaking faintly under our weight. He pushed the door open, and I gasped.

Inside, the house was just as beautiful. The living room was cozy, with a stone fireplace and soft, cream-colored furniture. The walls were lined with bookshelves that stretched to the ceiling, already filled with books. Mostly the romance books he always called cheesy when I read them. The kitchen, visible from where we stood, was charming, not very big like the one in Oliver's mansion, but it's so beautiful.

My gaze darted around, taking in every detail. It was exactly what I had described all those months ago. It's like he scribbled down everything I said and brought it to life, while I was merely indulging him in a silly fantasy of mine.

"How did you…?" I turned to him, my eyes wide. The words got stuck in my throat.

He shrugged, the nonchalance in his gesture betraying the care in his actions. "You said you liked the one we saw in Seoul. Thought this might be close enough.”

I shook my head so hard I thought it might fall off my neck.
“You didn't…”

He took a step cl
oser to me and handed me a key.
“This is your house now, Dallas.” The words fell out of his mouth, swaying my balance a little bit.