Page 99 of The Professor's Wife

“No thanks to you.”

He let out another deep laugh that made my skin tingle. My heart pinched in my chest as I looked at him.

He appeared so carefree and…

“You’re happy.”

Oliver’s dark eyes warmed as he looked back at me. “More than ever. This is my favorite place, and I’m with my favorite people.”

I slid out of the car with his help. His hand in mine, we walked down a short gravel driveway.

I looked around, dazed by the beautiful forest surrounding us.

His cabin stood among the tall trees. It was a modest-sized cabin built of weathered timber that blended effortlessly with the earthy colors of the old trees surrounding it. The roof was pitched and shingled, with hints of moss and lichen creeping across it, but it didn’t seem neglected at all.

Far from it, actually.

The yard was trimmed, and the path leading to the house was filled with fresh-looking pebbles, as though Oliver had recently scattered them.

The porch was a classic wraparound with hanging pots of plants and an unlit string of lights. Beside the front door was awhite porch swing that looked so inviting, I was tempted to sit down the moment we reached it.

“This is amazing,” I whispered, awed.

“I’m glad you think so,” he responded, delighted. “I’ve been stealing every chance I could get to come up here and spruce it up for us.”

I smiled. “You’re not real, Oliver Black.”

He let out a deep chuckle. “I’m not?”

I looked at him, meaning every word as it poured from my lips. “You’re the best man I’ve ever met, and you like me.”

He looked down at me, his smile fading. “Sweetheart, I love you.”

As though sensing my vulnerability, he brought me into his side, and I clung to him, digging my fingers deep into his shirt.

“We’re going to have a blast, okay?”

I nodded, my eyes burning with unshed tears.

“Sometimes I don’t believe you’re real either,” he confided suddenly as we walked up the steps. “You’re perfect, Daisy. So perfect.”

The evening was warm, tinged with the scent of pine and grilled garlic. Oliver had set up the patio behind the cabin with subtle elegance: soft string lights twinkling overhead, a small round table dressed in white linen, and a trail of rose petals arranged in a perfect spiral around it.

I’d just put Rowe to bed when I returned and stood there, stunned, my breath caught in my throat.

Oliver was already outside, wearing a crisp white shirt and dark slacks. His black hair was combed back but still unruly inthe way I loved. He smiled when he saw me, and I felt my body weaken.

“You did all this?” I asked, stepping outside slowly.

He nodded, his eyes never leaving mine. “I wanted tonight to be special.”

The table was set with two plates of pasta, a bottle of expensive wine, and candles flickering inside glass jars.

I sat down, beyond dazed, and he poured me a glass, his fingers brushing mine as he handed it over.

I looked out.

The forest was pitch-black.