Vicky's POV
It's been a week since Ollie got shot, and today is finally his discharge day. I wasn't expecting him to ask me to pick him up. Especially because ever since that day, ever since the panic, the gunshots, the blood, we haven't really talked about… us.
Yeah, he did admit that he does want me, even loves me, but no clarifying conversation. No closure. No "what are we now?" moment.
Just lingering looks and a fragile truce. But I didn't drag it out because after seeing how his secretary and assistant bother him with urgent work that needs his attention, even though he was in his hospital bed, I knew it was not his intention either.
He hired a caregiver, buried himself in work, and turned his VVIP hospital room into his personal courtroom. Papers everywhere, meetings, witnesses going in and out—classic Oliver.
