Chapter 11A Gift That Came Too Late
1232 Words
(Olivia’s POV)
Water still dripped from the ends of Olivia’s hair as she stood in front of the bathroom mirror at Havenmere.
Just minutes ago, she had been in the kitchen, throwing a wet sponge at Oliver Sterling’s chest.
Now she stood in his bathroom—
no, their bathroom—
with her heart still beating a little faster than usual.
A thin layer of steam filled the room.
In the slightly fogged mirror, Olivia saw her own reflection: damp hair, bare face, and eyes still carrying the remnants of the emotions from earlier.
She was supposed to be on leave.
A full week.
But a message from the clinic had come that morning—one of her patients had suffered a severe panic attack and refused to see anyone else.
So Olivia had to go.
She pulled a towel from the rack and began drying her hair.
Her gaze drifted briefly to the open wardrobe across the room.
Oliver’s neatly arranged shirts hung beside her silk blouses.
The sight still felt… strange.
As if her life had been moved, just like that, into the home of a man she once knew only as a childhood rival.
And now—
He was her husband.
Olivia slipped on a light blazer and stepped out of the room.
---
When she descended the stairs, Oliver was still in the kitchen.
Standing at the sink.
Actually washing dishes this time.
Olivia paused on the last step.
Oliver looked up.
Their eyes met.
For a few seconds, neither of them spoke.
Then Oliver said,
“Your client couldn’t wait?”
Olivia shook her head.
“Panic attack.”
Oliver gave a small nod.
“How long?”
“One session.”
He dried his hands with a kitchen towel.
“I’ll stay home.”
Olivia raised a brow.
“You won’t get bored?”
“No.”
He leaned lightly against the counter.
“I have a few designs to fix.”
Olivia picked up her bag from the chair.
“I’ll be back before evening.”
Oliver nodded.
But just as Olivia reached the door, he called—
“Liv.”
She stopped.
Oliver looked at her.
“If you want to talk about the box… we can.”
Olivia held his gaze for a few seconds.
Her expression remained calm.
“I don’t want to talk about it right now.”
Then she left.
But even as she started the engine—
One thing was already clear in her mind.
She knew who had sent the box.
She just wasn’t ready to say it out loud.
---
The session took longer than Olivia expected.
Nearly two hours passed before her patient finally left, breathing steadier, calmer.
By the time Olivia stepped out of the clinic, it was almost noon.
She was hungry.
On her way back to Havenmere, she stopped at a small supermarket in the center of Windermere.
Just to pick up a few things for dinner.
The place was moderately busy.
Olivia grabbed a basket and walked toward the produce aisle, carefully selecting the freshest red bell peppers.
That was when she heard someone call her name.
“Olivia.”
A woman’s voice.
Calm.
Confident.
Olivia froze.
She didn’t turn immediately.
In that split second, several possibilities crossed her mind.
A former client?
A patient’s parent?
Someone from the wedding?
But there was something about that voice—
something… familiar.
Slowly, Olivia turned.
A woman stood a few steps away.
Cream blazer.
Black heels.
Straight blonde hair falling perfectly over her shoulders.
Olivia recognized her before the woman spoke again.
Still—
The woman introduced herself.
“Cassie.”
A small smile curved her lips.
“Cassie Thorne.”
As if they had never been in the same room before.
As if Olivia had never seen her standing far too close to Oliver that night at the restaurant.
Olivia tightened her grip on the shopping basket.
Cassie.
The woman who had been part of Oliver’s life for eight months.
The woman whose face filled the photographs in that box.
The woman who now stood in front of her—
calm.
Composed.
Cassie smiled.
“Congratulations on your marriage.”
Olivia gave a small nod.
“Thank you.”
Cassie glanced at her basket.
“Settling into married life?”
“Still learning.”
Cassie let out a soft laugh.
Light.
Easy.
But there was something in her eyes—
something that made Olivia feel like she was being assessed.
Then Cassie said,
“I hope Oliver liked the gift.”
Olivia looked at her.
Her expression didn’t change.
“I knew it was you.”
Cassie didn’t look surprised.
If anything, her smile widened slightly.
“Good.”
She picked up a box of pasta from the shelf beside her.
“I don’t like unnecessary mysteries.”
Olivia held her gaze.
“Sending photos of your past relationship with someone else’s husband isn’t exactly a conventional gift.”
Cassie shrugged lightly.
“Oliver isn’t just someone else’s husband.”
The words landed like a small stone dropped into still water.
Cassie continued casually,
“Eight months isn’t a short time.”
Something shifted inside Olivia.
Not just jealousy.
Something sharper.
A quiet urge to prove something.
But her face remained composed.
“Eight months,” she said softly.
“Interesting.”
Cassie tilted her head slightly.
“Didn’t Oliver ever mention it?”
Olivia didn’t answer.
Cassie smiled again.
“I just wanted to make sure he doesn’t forget the part of his life that was real.”
Under the bright supermarket lights, the contrast between them felt undeniable.
Cassie stood calm, as if she had planned this moment from the beginning. Effortless. Certain. Like someone who always knew exactly what she was doing—and where she was going next.
While Olivia stood in front of her with something far more complicated inside her chest.
Not defeat.
Not fear.
But something else—
like someone who had just realized she was standing on unfamiliar ground, trying to protect something she didn’t fully understand yet.
Cassie finally spoke again, almost lightly—
“Anyway… I hope Oliver enjoyed the gift.”
Then she turned and walked away, her steps unhurried, not waiting for a response.
Olivia remained where she stood.
Her basket still hanging from her hand, her fingers gripping it tighter than she realized.
Her heartbeat was louder now.
She had known from the beginning who sent the box.
But hearing Cassie say it—so easily, without hesitation, without regret—
Somehow made it cut deeper.
Because in that one simple sentence—
Everything became clear.
Cassie hadn’t sent the gift to Oliver.
It had never been meant for him.
The box—
was for Olivia.
A quiet but precise message.
A reminder that before this marriage—before the ring on Olivia’s finger—
Oliver had once been part of Cassie’s life.
And perhaps—
had once been hers.
Olivia stood there for a few more seconds in the middle of the busy aisle, her breathing slightly heavier.
Something moved inside her chest now.
A feeling that came too fast for her to stop.
She didn’t like it.
But she couldn’t deny it.
Because for the first time since all of this began—
Olivia realized something simple.
And dangerously honest.
She didn’t want Oliver to belong to anyone else.
- Writer
