I thought for a moment, then nodded.
“So that’s why you ran away from me after we made love,” I thought out loud. “It wasn’t that you didn’t care enough. It was that you cared too much.”
Oliver nodded.
“I honestly thought that I wasn’t capable of handling all those feelings,” he admitted, adding as he once again leaned inward to fix me with an intense, unyielding stare, “What I really can’t handle, Lily Ashton, is living one more day without you. You’ve got me, Lily—my heart, my body, my mind. I don’t want to be with anyone else—and I just hope against hope that you feel the same way.”
I nodded.
“I do,” I readily agreed, adding quickly, “But just remember, Oliver, that I’ve had my share of heartbreaks as well—the last of which was suffered when the man that I’d just given my heart and body to deserted me. How am I supposed to trust you, Oliver?”
My eyes flew wide as my impassioned lover swept me up in his arms; holding my body closer than close as he buried his head in my shoulder.
“I can’t answer that question,” he whispered in my ear. “What I can do is promise to make it up to you every day for the rest of our lives—to love and care for you, to dedicate my life to making you happy. Because you, Lily, have shown me the true meaning of happiness.”
Reaching behind him on the desk, Oliver retrieved a plain plastic bag that I hadn’t noticed before; handing it to me as he said, “I have a gift for you, Lily—but it’s not like the others that I used to try and buy your love. This, my dear, is something truly personal.”
Opening the bag with careful fingers, I withdrew what appeared to be a framed and mounted painting; a small but finely detailed water color that depicted a lavender water lily in all its fragrant, dew-glistened glory.
“This is beautiful, Oliver,” I breathed, adding as I shifted my gaze to his, “Who is the artist?”
“I am,” Oliver nodded, adding with a shrug, “It seems that a very special woman has inspired me to start painting again—and I have named my first watercolor in five years in her honor. It’s called Lily in Bloom.”
I said nothing, only put the painting aside and swept its artist into a warm embrace that bespoke my love.
“I love you, Oliver,” I whispered.
“I love you,” he told me. “My Lily in bloom.”
Lara Hunter
The sequel to this story is available now!
The Heir & I: Precarious Passions
With their blossoming relationship going from strength to strength, Lily and Oliver couldn't be happier; enjoying a beautiful and relaxing vacation in Miami, the new couple are united in optimism for their future...
After Oliver receives a mysterious phone call, and promptly disappears leaving little more than a note however, Lily's holiday seems all but over. Languishing in dark loneliness, and wondering just what could have dragged Oliver away from her, she's even more disturbed when she finds her home has been vandalized; she's clearly made an enemy!
What are the mysterious forces that conspire to break Lily and Oliver apart? Can their budding relationship weather the storm that tragedy brings?
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