3. Chapter 3

Hours go by and with each one I become more restless. My eyes are glued to the window in my hospital room, the fear of losing my son crippling me more than the epidural they administered. Bitterly I watch the world outside continue on without a care while my heart is gripped with fear.

The sun slowly sets, casting a warm orange glow across the walls of my hospital room. Every footstep that echoes down the hallway causes me to hold my breath, hoping it's not the dreaded news that my baby has given up the fight before I even get a chance to hold him.

Each time the door creaks open and a nurse enters to check my vitals, my heart leaps into my throat, anticipating the worst. It's a sickeningly morbid thought, isn't it? I should be filled with joy and excitement at the arrival of mine and Dean's baby. Instead, I am held captive by this haunting anticipation of death. My heart aches with a mix of love and terror, desperate for any sign of hope or life from within me. But all I can do is wait and pray for a miracle.

I couldn't keep the man I love, so please, don't take the last thing I have left of him—let me keep our baby . I think I deserve that much.

I keep waiting for Dean to show up, like he usually does when I'm feeling my worst, but this time he doesn't.

A light knock on the door pulls me from those morose thoughts. My heart clenches in my chest when the door slowly opens, and Oscar pokes his head in and smiles. "Hey, you're awake. Are you up for some company, kid?"

Releasing the breath I didn't even know I'd been holding, I rest my head back against the soft pillow and nod, grateful for a moment's distraction from my distressing thoughts.

"How are you feeling?" Oscar questions as he walks over and takes a seat in the

armchair by my bedside. "Are you in any pain?"

I shake my head, "Tired and numb, mostly."

"That's expected with the pain medication they've been giving you. The doctor said your body has been through quite an ordeal with the pregnancy and then the tear. It will take a couple of weeks and some serious rest to recover." Oscar explains, his soft brown eyes lifting to look up at the bag of blood being transfused back into my body. "Ash is still here as well. She fell asleep in the visitor's lounge so I thought I would sneak in here to see if you needed anything?"

My eyes well up, suddenly feeling overwhelmed with emotion, "I can never repay nor thank you and Ash for everything you've done for me since..."

Oz nods in understanding and smiles faintly as he sits forward in the chair and takes my hand into his. "Jey, stop it. You're family . Of course we're going to be here for you, and no, it's not because we made a promise to Dean that we will always watch out for you. It's because we love you and you would do the same without a moment's hesitation for any one of us."

He's not wrong. I absolutely would. Oscar and Ashlyn are no different to my own siblings. If anything, I'm closer to them than I am to Jess and Jaden. They've been there for me through every trial and tribulation, never wavering in their support or love… especially Oscar.

"You've both done so much for me," I continue, my eyes welling up with tears. "You've selflessly put aside your own grief over losing your brother to help me through mine. And even when I shut you both out, you still never gave up on me." My heart expands with gratitude as I gaze at him, my pillar of strength during the darkest moments of my life. "I'm just so grateful for you both," I add, my voice barely above a whisper. "Even if I don't show it, I truly don't know if I would have made it through any of this without you and Ash." As if sensing my overwhelming emotions, Oscar's fingers tighten around mine and he brushes his thumb over my knuckles in a comforting gesture. Both his and Ashlyn's unwavering love and support are like a lifeline pulling me from the depths of my despair.

"You want to know how you can thank us?" Oscar questions, smiling. "By taking care of yourself, resting, and getting back on your feet. I know it's not that easy, you have lost so much more than you can bear, but I know you have the strength to pull through all of it, Jeyla. You have the biggest, most beautiful reason to fight, right down that corridor and he needs you more than any of us."

"How is he, Oskie?"

"He's perfect, Jey."

"Don't lie to me to make me feel better. Be straight with me. How is he really?"

Oskie lifts my hand and closes his other hand around both of ours and squeezes reassuringly.

"I am being straight with you, I swear," he affirms, staring into my eyes. "He's small of course, and has some growing to do, but other than that the doctors have confirmed that he is healthy and well. In fact…" Oz lifts his hand and reaches into his pocket to pull out his phone. "I knew you would be restless and wouldn't relax until you see him, so I took some photos of him." He pulls up a photo of the baby and hands his phone to me.

My chest tightens when I see my tiny baby lying in an incubator, barely bigger than a doll, with tubes and wires attached to his delicate body. An oxygen mask covers its tiny face, making it hard to see the features underneath. His skin is wrinkled and translucent, showing the delicate veins and blood vessels beneath.

"Oh my God…" I whisper, unable to tear my gaze away from the image of my baby. Tears pour over and stream down my cheeks as I use my index finger and thumb to zoom in. "He's so tiny and… and… lifeless."

"Hey, hey, I know it looks bad with all the wires and IV drips, but I promise you, Jey, he is doing very well. His vitals are strong and steady."

"I should be with him." I cry as Oscar takes the phone from me and sets it on the bedside table before he turns his attention back to me. "I'm his mother, I should be there with him, holding him and offering him some form of comfort, not stuck in this room while he fights to stay alive all alone. This isn't how it's supposed to be, Oskie." My body shakes with hoarse sobs that reverberate in the hospital room.

"I know," Oscar answers and stands before he sits on the bed and carefully gathers me into his arms. "I promise you he's not alone. I know it's not the same, but Ashlyn and I have been close by keeping an eye on him ever since he was born and until you are able to go and be with him, we won't leave his side, okay, I promise you."

"I can't lose him too, Oskie, I can't."

Oz presses his nose into my hair while his hand strokes my back soothingly. "You won't," he whispers back fiercely. "You did everything you could to protect him and keep him safe inside you for as long as possible. He has the best possible chance of survival because of you. And before you know it, we'll be taking him home and you'll be holding him in your arms in his nursery, singing him that song you've been singing throughout your pregnancy until he falls asleep."

Once the baby started to move and kick—especially at night—I would sing mine and Dean's song to him and he'd stop almost instantly.

"The nursery isn't even finished." I sob woefully into his chest.

"Don't you worry your pretty head about that, all right? Just focus on your recovery and getting back on your feet. Try and get some sleep."

"I can't." I sigh, wiping away the endless stream of tears that continue to roll down my damp cheeks.

"Why can't you?" Oscar questions pulling his head back to peer down at me.

I let out a frustrated sigh and meet his gaze. "My thoughts, they just keep racing, and whatever I do, I can't seem to silence them."

"Hm, okay," Oz utters in response, a thoughtful look crosses his handsome features. "Happens to me too, nothing a little distraction can't fix. I brought you a couple of books and magazine, have you tried reading them?"

"No, I can't focus enough to take anything in."

"Music?" I tip my head back and look at him, "What?"

Whenever I was feeling restless and had trouble sleeping, I would lay my head on Dean's chest and listen to his heartbeat, and he would quietly sing ‘In Case You Didn't Know' to me while playing with my hair. The memory hits me like a wave, filling me with a bittersweet ache.

"No, it's nothing."

"Don't tell porkies, Pinocchio." Oscar insists and playfully touches the tip of my nose with his index finger. "There's something, tell me." Sighing, I hesitantly explain to him what Dean would do when I couldn't sleep. That was a Dean and me thing. It would be weird to now do it with his older brother. Even if they did sound alike.

Oscar's expression softens as he listens, understanding the significance of the memory. He smiles and sits in a position that's more comfortable and gestures with his head for me to lay down.

"Thanks to you and Dean, I've memorized the song since it's all I've heard since before your wedding and you've had it on repeat for months now," he teases with a smirk.

"Oskie, you really don't have to—" I start to protest but he cuts me off.

"Lie down, Jeyla," he asserts in a firm yet gentle manner that silences any further objections. With a nervous sigh, I comply and rest my head on his broad chest. The familiar scent of his aftershave mixed with fabric softener envelopes me and offers a sense of comfort and ease.

Oscar's fingers gently weave through my hair, and for a while, I lie there in serene silence, attuned to the steady rhythm of his heartbeat as he softly sings the lyrics to the song. With my eyes closed, his voice resonates with a familiar warmth, almost indistinguishable from Dean's. Though I know it will never be quite the same, in that moment, it's enough to quiet the turmoil in my mind and cradle me into a peaceful slumber.

The three weeks following the birth of my son and my subsequent surgery have been a turbulent whirlwind of emotion. After enduring ten gruelling days confined to bed, I am finally able to stand on my own two feet again. Though I am not fully recovered, the relief of being able to move without excruciating pain is immeasurable. And the greatest joy of all is being able to hold and feed my newborn son.

There are no words that can adequately convey the overwhelming emotions I experienced the first time I held him in my arms, breastfed him, or heard his tiny cries. Week by week, DJ—short for Dean Jr.—grew bigger and stronger, and after what felt like an eternity, we were finally allowed to take him home.

Those past six weeks had been a harrowing experience, filled with both trauma and agony. But now, the hardest part was behind us.

As a new mother, every day feels like a blur as exhaustion consumes me. I often lose track of what month it is, or even what day of the week. My days and nights have become interchangeable as DJ refuses to sleep for more than two hours at a time. It seems God has blessed my child with a set of powerful lungs. For the first month, I would sit up with him throughout the night as he cried relentlessly, as if he were about to burst a lung. Neither Oscar nor I got any rest. In tears, I lost count of how many times we rushed him to the paediatrician, convinced there must be something wrong with him. But after countless tests and scans, they found nothing abnormal.

As I sat on the floor of the nursery, tears streaming down my face, I could feel my sanity slipping away. DJ's cries pierced through my ears like sharp needles and my attempts to soothe him were futile.

One night Oscar walked into the nursery and found me on the floor with a screaming DJ in my arms, sobbing helplessly.

"Jey…"

"Oskie, I'm a terrible mother." I wept, looking up at him helplessly.

"Jeyla, no," he frowned, pushing the door open and walking into the nursery. "Of course you're not, you're an incredible mother."

"No, I'm not." I shook my head and lowered my gaze to the screaming baby in my arms. "I can't even soothe my own baby. He's been screaming for hours, I don't know what to do, I don't know what he wants. I should know what he needs, I'm supposed to be his mother and I don't how to make him stop. I have no bond with him. My own baby hates me. I can't do this, Oskie, I can't!"

"Jeyla, listen to me," Oscar kneeled down in front of me and cupped my face in his hands, wiping away my tears with his thumb as he looked into my eyes. "You are an incredible woman and amazing mother. Don't you ever question that, and your son does not hate you. He is just having a tough time right now, you both are, but it's going to get better. You need to be patient. We will figure this out together. Here, give him to me. I have an idea, go get your shoes on and meet me at the car."

I was at my wits end, ready to tear my hair out when he gently took DJ from my aching arms and grabbed a blanket for DJ before walking out.

In that moment I didn't question it. Mentally drained and physically exhausted I did as I was told and I am eternally thankful that I did. The moment we strapped DJ in the car seat and the Lexus' engine roared to life and we started driving, his screams subsided and eventually he stopped crying and within minutes fell asleep.

Turns out the sound of the engine and the movement of the car soothed him. Which I didn't find the least bit surprising, I mean he is Dean's child after all. Thus, that became our nightly routine for a couple of weeks. Oscar and I would take him out for a drive for an hour at night or at least long enough for him to fall into a deep sleep, and put him to bed. Eventually we found playing the sound of an engine through our phones was enough to get him down for the night.

"Jey, we need more burger buns." Ashlyn calls out to me as I frantically warm breastmilk in a bottle, trying to soothe a hungry and fussy DJ in my other arm. It's Oscar's thirtieth birthday and we're throwing him a small party at our house with close family and friends. He didn't want a big celebration, so we opted for a simple BBQ as the weather warmed up for spring.

"Uh, there should be some in the blue bag over on the counter." I answer as DJ whimpers and rubs his tired eyes, making me feel guilty for not getting his bottle ready sooner. "I know, baby, I know," I whisper as I hurriedly hold the bottle under hot water to warm it up. "Just a few more minutes."

"Here, let me take him." My arms ache from holding DJ for so long, his warm and squishy body pressing against mine. Ashlyn's gentle touch on my shoulder as she takes DJ from me, is a welcome relief. She plants a kiss on his head of dark hair and coos, "Come to Aunty Ash, my sweet prince." She rocks him gently in her arms while I finish preparing his bottle.

Just like his father, DJ can't stand waiting for food. Once those hunger bells ring, you must feed him, or he'll become crabby… especially if he's over tired.

As I hand Ashlyn the bottle, I take a moment to look around at the backyard transformed into a lively party scene. Music plays in the background. The warm spring air carries the scent of sizzling burgers and laughter, and colourful decorations adorn every corner. In the distance, children run around playing games while adults mingle and catch up with each other.

Despite the chaos that comes with hosting a party, I can't help but feel grateful for this moment with my family and friends gathered together. And I know Oscar will appreciate it too—even if he did insist on keeping things low-key for his milestone birthday.

"You pour yourself a glass of wine and go and relax. You've been rushing around all morning. I haven't even seen you eat anything, Jey. I'll put DJ down for his nap. Go on, shoo."

I smile gratefully at Ashlyn and nod as she walks off in the direction of the stairs. "Don't forget to turn on the?—"

"Baby monitor, I know!"

Chuckling, I make my way to the back garden. My stomach grumbling at the smell of burgers and sausages cooking on the BBQ that hits me as soon as I step outside. I am famished indeed. Oscar, Shane, my sister's fiancé Ben, and my brother Jaden are manning the BBQ while our parents stand around conversing animatedly about something with Oscar's Aunt and Uncle.

"There you are," My sister Jess gracefully glides over to me, her long golden hair swaying behind her like a curtain. In her hands, she carries two delicately chilled glasses of rose wine and passes one off to me with a playful wink. "I forbid you to leave my side. I forgot how much Lottie loves to talk. Jeezus she's been chewing my ear off for over an hour." She complains with a snigger and takes a dainty sip from her glass. Lottie is Oscar and Ashlyn's cousin, and my sister isn't exaggerating. God truly has blessed that girl with the gift of gab.

I chuckle into my glass, enjoying the crisp taste of the wine as I go to take a sip. "I know, she caught me in the kitchen forty minutes ago. I had to come up with some excuse and make a run for it. Spent ten minutes hiding in the bathroom just to escape her rambling." I share with a smirk, raising my eyebrows towards our older brother who now seems to be Lottie's next target. Jessica snorts a laugh at the look of boredom on his face as he feigns interest in whatever story she's telling him.

"Oh God, rather him than me. I mean, the woman has a story about everything. Bloody hell, she's only thirty-two, you would think she's lived a century with the number of stories she has to tell." I almost choke on my sip of wine at her remark.

"Stop it," I laugh amusedly. "Bless her heart, she talks a lot, but she is harmless."

As my sister continues to chatter on about her upcoming wedding plans, I find myself unable to focus on the conversation. My gaze drifts over to Oscar, who stands across the patio with the other guys. His easy laughter carries through the air, drawing my attention like a magnet. Suddenly, as if sensing my eyes on him, he turns and meets my gaze, flashing me a dazzling smile as he takes a sip from his bottle of Corona.

"Oi," my sister pokes my ribs with her finger, pulling me back to the present. I look at her expectantly, but she just smiles knowingly at me.

"What?"

"What was that?" she asks, nodding her head towards Oscar.

I furrow my brow in confusion, not sure what she's getting at. "What... was what ?"

Jessica shakes her head in disbelief and gestures towards Oscar once again. "That little interaction between you and Oz."

My heart starts racing as I realize what she's talking about. I try to play it cool and feign ignorance. "What interaction?"

Her eyes narrow and she gives me a pointed look. "Don't play dumb, Jey. I saw that meaningful look and smile he just gave you."

I roll my eyes and take a long sip of wine, trying to suppress the stupid butterflies in my stomach. There is no denying that Oscar has always had a way of making me feel special, but I refuse to entertain the idea of anything more than friendship between us. He's Dean's brother for goodness' sake. "Jess, don't be ridiculous. He's looking at me like he always does. There is no special meaning behind it."

"Jey, come on, you've been living together for almost a year now. You're raising DJ together. You're practically a family."

"No, we're not a family . And we are not raising DJ together . He's helping me ou?—"

And then, Oscar appears behind me, his arm snaking around my waist to hold a plate with a hotdog on it in front of me and leans close to my ear to say, "Hey kid." My stomach tightens and I can feel my cheeks reddening between his deep voice in my ear and my sister's knowing smirk while she watches the innocent interaction between us. "Hotdog with extra crispy onions and ketchup, no mustard. Eat something if you're drinking or I'll be carrying you to bed before the night is over."

"Uh, thanks, Oskie." My fingers tremble slightly as I take the plate from him. Oscar presses a kiss to the top of my head and I watch as he walks back over to the BBQ to join the boys.

"You were saying?" Jess utters with a smug grin on her face. "Your face is redder than the ketchup on your hotdog right now." She teases with a cackle and I shake my head, fighting off the stupid flush I can feel travelling down my neck.

"Jess, stop speculating," I scold her playfully. "There's nothing going on between me and Oz. We've always been close friends, that's no secret. And even if something did change, he's Dean's brother. Nothing can or will ever happen between us."

"Jeyla, I'm not speculating, I'm only pointing out what everyone except you seems to already know. Jesus, everyone and their nan knows that Oz had a thing for you for years. Think about it, he wouldn't be putting his own life on hold and playing house with his late brother's wife otherwise, would he? You were so consumed with your love for Dean that you never truly saw how Oz looked at you… and is still looking at you. That boy buried his feelings for you and watched you marry his brother and then stood by you and became your strength after his death and he's helping you raise yours and Dean's baby."

"Jess…" I warn with a weary sigh, my voice tinged with sadness.

But Jess pays no heed to my tone and continues to press the subject, her eyes full of determination. "Jeyla, it's been a year. You're only twenty-five, you still have a whole life ahead of you to live. Your life didn't end with Dean's and deep down you know that he would want you to move on and be happy."

I shake my head, tears welling up in my eyes. "No, Jess, it's only been a year." My words come out as a choked whisper. "You don't understand because you haven't lost someone you loved with every fibre of your being. Dean wasn't just some guy that I loved, he was my soul mate, the other half of me. The love we shared was so all-consuming, so intense and pure, unlike anything I have ever felt or could feel for anyone else. I can still feel his touch on my skin, hear his laughter ringing in my ears.

The memories are too painful and beautiful at the same time. I can't even stomach the thought of being with someone else after what we had. Even the mere thought of it fills me with guilt because I feel like I'm betraying him and breaking the promise I made to wait for him." I express, lowering my gaze to the glass of wine in my hand so she doesn't see the tears gathering in my eyes.

"Jey, the love and memories you and Dean shared will always be with you. You don't have to forget about Dean, but you will one day meet someone and fall in love again. Yes, the two of you were perfect for one another, but what if Dean was never the one. What if the one you were truly fated to be with is someone who selflessly sacrificed his own happiness for yours, time and time again? Think about it. Every time you fell, Oz was there to pick you back up. Even though it was probably killing him inside, he offered you his shoulder to cry on every time Dean hurt you or every time he was gone for months at a time."

As Jessica speaks, her words trigger a memory within me. My mind flashes back to that night we went camping at camber sands beach almost two years ago. The night Ash found out about me and Dean. While we were seated around the fire Ivy had asked what the craziest thing the boys had done for a girl was. Oscar's response resonates in my mind.

"Honestly, there isn't a thing I haven't done, but the biggest I would say is sacrifice. I sacrificed myself for her happiness several times."

Oh my God, was he…shit, was that about me ? My heart lurches as realization dawns on me. In that moment, I couldn't help but feel envious and angry towards the girl who didn't see how truly selfless and amazing he was. I look up and over my sister's shoulder to where Oscar is standing talking to Shane.

Was I that girl?

The sun had long since set and the moon cast a soft glow over everything as the party slowly came to an end. Six hours of laughter, conversation, and indulgence in wine and decadent red velvet cake had left everyone content and satisfied. As the last guests bid their farewells and disappeared into the darkness, Oscar and I stand at the doorway, holding onto each other for support.

I peer up at him, my head spinning slightly from the alcohol, and I couldn't help but smile. "Did you have a good time, old man?"

Oscar chuckles, his deep voice rumbling through his chest as he wrapped his strong arm around my shoulders. "Yes, I did. Thank you, kid, for organizing everything and trying to surprise me even though I knew what you were up to the whole time," he murmurs as he presses a gentle kiss to my temple, sending warmth coursing through me.

I roll my eyes playfully. "Ugh, I knew it. Well, that's the last time I'll ever try to throw you a surprise party, you big lug."

Oscar laughs heartily as we make our way back to the living room. "Let's be honest, Jeykins, you're not exactly known for your discretion. I could hear you last night struggling to blow up balloons and then cussing when they flew away and deflated." He imitates the deflating sound of a balloon.

"That was the stupid confetti balloons! It took me ages to blow them all up and then almost choked on a piece of foil confetti twice ," I grumble with a pout when I recall the frustration that I had felt at two in the morning blowing up those darned balloons.

Thankfully the house wasn't as messy as I had anticipated. Ashlyn, and both our mothers, assisted in cleaning up the kitchen once the food part of the evening was done. Only things left are a couple of dishes that need loading into the dish washer and a mop.

"It was most certainly entertaining. I'll give you that."

"I'm pleased that my misery and near-death experience amused you, Oskie." I drawl as I make my way toward the kitchen.

"There isn't a thing you do that doesn't amuse me, Jeykins." Oscar responds, brown eyes twinkling as he catches my arm, his brows furrowing. "Whoa, where are you going?"

"I have some bits left to sort in the kitchen."

Oscar shakes his head and tuts, "No."

I stare up at him, "No?"

Oscar smirks. "No need, you've done plenty. I'll handle the rest in the morning. Besides, I've barely seen you all day. Join me for a drink and let's toast to me hitting the big three-oh."

"I don't know, Oskie. I think I've reached my limit. One more sip and I'll be drunk. Plus, I've got the baby to take care of, who'll be up in less than an hour for a feed and change."

"I've only had two beers, I'll get up with DJ, and you can sleep in."

"Just two beers?" I frown. "I thought you were doing shots with the guys?"

Oscar shakes his head. "Nope. I didn't want to get wasted in case you wanted to relax and have a few drinks with the girls. I know you're always worried about not being able to wake up for the baby. So, I told Ash and Jess I'd handle DJ's night feed so you could enjoy yourself."

My shoulders slump as I look up at him. "But it's your birthday, Oskie. You should be the one having fun, not worrying about me or DJ." Oscar's smile widens, and he gently touches my chin.

"I did have fun," he says, the corners of his eyes crinkling. "I don't need to be drunk to enjoy myself. Seeing you let loose and have a little fun was more than enough for me."

While I gaze up at him in wonderment my sister's words from earlier resurface in my mind.

"What if the one you were truly fated to be with is someone who selflessly sacrifices his own happiness for yours, time and time again?"

Even on his birthday, he continues to put my needs and happiness before his own. It's as though selflessness is ingrained in every fibre of his being. How can one man possess such an unfathomable level of selflessness? And how could I have been so blind all this time to his unwavering affection towards me? The realization hits me like a wave crashing onto shore—he has always been there, silently sacrificing for my sake and never asking for anything in return. My heart swells in my chest with overwhelming gratitude and admiration for this remarkable man standing in front of me. It's like a veil has lifted and I'm seeing him in a completely different light. Or I've had one too many glasses of wine.

"Okay, but only if you share the last slice of cake with me?"

Oscar's soft smile widens into a grin, and he hisses. "Ooh, I don't know, I'm not so good at sharing, especially when it comes to red velvet cake. I might fight you a little bit."

I let out something that resembles a very un-ladylike snort, "Bring it on."

Oscar chuckles, "Hey, don't say I didn't warn you. I'll pour us some wine, and you can dig out that slice of cake you've hidden in the fridge, buried so deep I almost needed a treasure map to find it."

My jaw drops as I stare up at him, surprised. He laughs at my dumbfounded expression and reaches out to squeeze my cheek affectionately. "How did you know I hid it?" I ask.

"Because I know you," he says with a sly grin, his deep voice laced with familiarity. "You're like a nimble squirrel, always scurrying about and hiding treats in secret places so you never have to go far for a snack." My cheeks flush under his amused gaze and I fight off the urge to smile when he grins at me. His dark eyes sparkle with mischief and his dimples deepen as he teases me.

"It's unfair how well you know me."

"Ah, perks of knowing you all my life, kid. Want to hear another thing I know about you?" I raise an eyebrow in curiosity, and he bites down on his bottom lip, a mischievous twinkle in his eyes. "You're adorable when you're flustered." I playfully swat his hand away from my face and make my way to the kitchen.

"Oh, hush and get the wine, you affable oaf." I can hear Oscar's laughter echoing behind me as he follows me to the kitchen.

"Is that supposed to be an insult or a compliment? I'm not sure how to take your pet names," he teases as he retrieves two wine glasses from the sleek steel rack under the kitchen cabinet.

"You can take it however you want," I reply, digging through the fridge to retrieve the cake I had cleverly hidden behind a container of broccoli florets. Oscar hates broccoli so I knew he would never think to look there.

As we settle on the sofa, for some reason I can feel butterflies flutter about in my stomach while Oscar pours the wine for us. I've never had a reason to feel nervous around him. We enjoy each other's company while eating red velvet cake and sipping on the crisp and refreshing glass of rosé wine. It's moments like these that make me grateful for our lifelong friendship. It has always been so easy with Oscar. Even when we just sit in silence, it's comfortable and familiar. So, why the hell am I feeling so… aware of his presence all of a sudden?

"Hey, Oskie, can I ask you something?" I speak up as I toy with a piece of cake with my fork.

Oscar nods while he chews and swallows the forkful of cake he ate. "You can ask me anything."

God, how do I even start a conversation like this? I'm blaming the alcohol for this sudden curiosity and bravado. Come on, you can do this Jeyla, it's a conversation that needs to be had. You can no longer go on oblivious to his feelings for you.

Just speak.

"Do you remember that camping trip we all took a couple of years ago to Camber Sands?" I ask and watch as his dark brows furrow as he recalls the day I'm talking about.

"You mean the day Ash found out about you and Dean?" I nod and he continues, "I do, very vividly, why?" Licking my lips I hesitate and drop my gaze to the fork in my hand and Oscar clearly picks up on my unease and shifts to face me properly, placing his hand on top of mine. The gesture and feel of his hand on mine send my pulse racing, "What is it, Jey?"

For Goodness sakes! Say something, Jeyla. You need to know if he was talking about you or not.

"While we were sitting around the fire before everything blew up and Ivy asked the boys to share what the craziest thing they have ever done for a girl was…" I explain and Oscar watches me closely, nodding mutely in response. "You said you've done a lot, but the biggest thing was sacrifice yourself for her happiness." When I finally force myself to look up, I see a look on Oscar's face—one I've never seen before. He looks unnerved, which is a first for him. "Who were you talking about?"

"What—" He starts to speak and then stops to clear his throat and take a long sip of his wine before speaking. "God, that was a long time ago," he lets out a nervous laugh and rubs his temple, all the while avoiding my gaze. "Uh, what made you think of that all of a sudden?"

"It's just something Jess mentioned earlier at the party. It's been gnawing away at me since this afternoon, and I thought I would ask you about it."

A look of surprise on his face, Oscar looks over at me, "Jess? What did she say?"

Breaking the tension, Oscar shakes his head with a soft chuckle and sits forward in his seat. I force a smile onto my face and lean over to place the plate on the coffee table in front of me. Shifting to sit at the edge of the sofa, I try to ease the awkwardness that has settled between us. As our eyes meet, a charged silence falls between us. I can feel the intensity in his gaze as we both hold each other's gazes, locked in a wordless exchange. My hands tighten around the fork I'm still holding, suddenly feeling self-conscious under his scrutiny.

"Uhm, she's got it into her head that you were talking about me that night." Shaking his head, Oscar chuckles—though it's not one of amusement and I detect a touch of annoyance in the undertone—and sets his glass on the marble table beside the sofa.

Forcing a smile on my face, I lean over and place the fork with the discarded plate on the coffee table and shift on the edge of the sofa. "Obviously, I told her that she's crazy and that you and I are just friends, and you don't see me like… that ." I continue speaking, my nervousness evident I'm sure as I rub my clammy palms against my bare thighs where my denim shorts have rolled up to the top of my thighs.

The sudden awkwardness settling between us hangs heavy in the air as Oscar remains silent, his gaze fixed on the wall opposite as if searching for some answer or resolution. As I wait for him to respond, I take a moment to study the solemn look on his face, wondering what thoughts are running through his mind. "Right?" I prompt again, desperate for confirmation that this is all just a misinterpretation, and my sister is talking nonsense with her silly speculations.

Oskie, come on please, say something.

I hold my breath while I wait for him to respond, to laugh the whole thing off, but he doesn't laugh nor react, he just turns his head and looks me dead in the eyes, offers a tight-lipped smile and nods before he utters, "Right."

Oh fuck . He's lying, and horribly, might I add. Ugh, I'm going to kill my sister. Why did she have to go and fill my head with all this shit. I was blissfully unaware in my bubble of ignorance, and she went and popped it and now I can't unsee it and I'm fully aware of all the feelings he's trying so hard to keep concealed. "Ah, well, it's quite late, we should probably turn in and get some sleep. DJ is due to wake up for his nightly feed soon," Oscar adds as he stands and I follow suit, nodding like a damn bobble head.

"Yes," I glace down at the watch on my wrist and see it's almost two in the morning. "Wow, it is late. Uh, I should most definitely get some sleep. I've actually sobered up so I'll be fine to get up with him, so you enjoy your lie in, birthday boy."

"Are you sure, I honestly don't mind?"

I nod and wave him off as we walk out of the living room and make our way toward the stairs. "No, thank you for offering, but I'm fine, I got it."

"Well, all right then. Thank you once again for throwing a surprise party for me. I really did have a great time."

"You're welcome. I'm glad you enjoyed yourself."

"I did," Oscar says. He leans down to brush a kiss to my head, but I lift my head to look up at him and step forward at the same time, thinking he's going in for a hug, and his lips catch the corner of mine.

Holy shitballs of fire .

Oscar and I go impossibly still, instead of pulling away and apologising like any sane person, I just freeze, unsure of what to do or how to form a coherent thought. I can feel my heart pounding in my chest, matching the rhythm of his deep breaths. Oscar's senses seem to kick in quicker than mine because he is the first to draw back, but not completely. Only enough to look down at me when my eyes flutter open. Our eyes lock and our lips are so close I can practically taste him. I can't even tell you which one of us closed the gap, or if it was simultaneous, but damn did that miniscule gap close.

Oscar's lips, ripe and plump, part slightly as he leans in towards me. The tip of his tongue is visible, glistening with anticipation as it brushes against his bottom lip before eagerly entering my mouth. His touch is soft yet firm, like the gentle press of a feather against my skin. I can feel the faint hint of stubble on his chin where he's growing out his beard, adding a hint of masculinity to this already intoxicating moment.

As our bodies draw closer together, Oscar's hands move up to my waist and wrap around me, pulling me tightly against him. Our breaths mingle as our tongues dance together, each movement filled with longing and desire.

With each kiss, I can taste the remnants of the wine we shared earlier, mixed with the sweetness of the cake that still lingers on his lips. The scent of his aftershave fills my senses and mingles with his own musky scent, leaving me momentarily dizzy.

I feel like I'm in a fever dream. I never in my wildest dreams thought I would be kissing Oscar , but here we are, ardently lost in each other. Why doesn't it feel… wrong ? It's doesn't feel awkward or uncomfortable, if anything it's the absolute opposite.

I can't help but think back to my teenage years when I had a secret crush on Oscar. I remember I would stare at his lips daydreaming about kissing him just like this and let me tell you, reality far surpasses any fantasy I ever had.

Then again, it's been so long since I've been kissed like this that I've forgotten how it feels. Or perhaps I just miss and crave the intimacy.

The internal moral compass in my mind is screaming at me to put a stop to this before it escalates and we do something we'll later regret. But my body refuses to listen, every cognitive signal from my brain ignored as Oscar's mouth abandons mine and travels down the column of my neck. He moves with skill and precision, nipping and sucking at my throat, sending shivers down my spine.

My fingers dig into the thin material of his black vest, grasping desperately as waves of pleasure wash over me, pooling between my legs. His name escapes my lips in a desperate plea, met with a guttural growl from him. With effortless strength, he lifts me into his arms, spins us around, and presses me against the wall. I am completely at his mercy as his mouth crashes onto mine once again.

I can feel Oscar's steel-like erection pressing intimately against me as my legs wrap around him and I feel a sense of panic suddenly rise from deep within me.

Oh God, this is… too much. A kiss is one thing, but this… this feels too fucking real.

Just as I'm about to push him away and regain control of myself, DJ's cry echoes through the room, bringing us back to reality. We both pull away, gasping for air. Oscar presses his forehead to mine, his jaw set tight and ticking. My eyes flutter open and so does his and we just stare at one another. The look of admiration radiating in the depths of his warm brown eyes melts my heart.

"I should go and get his bottle ready," I mumble, unable to keep my voice from trembling as he nods and sets me back on my feet.

As the reality of what we just did comes crashing down on both of us. The turmoil he's feeling inside radiates on his face. Deep down we're both fully aware that what just happened between us was a mistake, even if neither of us can no longer deny the chemistry and formidable emotions that were stirred up in that fleeting, but heated moment.

As I make my way to the kitchen, I can hear Oscar's footsteps as he makes his way upstairs. My knees feel like jelly, the floor unsteady beneath my feet with every step I take. I lick my lips and I can still taste his kiss. I can still feel his large hands wandering over my body and his erection pressing against me.

Shaking my head I press myself against the kitchen island and press my fingers to my lips as remorse starts to chip away at my conscience. Even if it didn't feel wrong, it was. It was messed up. Oscar isn't just a close friend, he's so much more than that, he's Dean's older brother. Dean may be gone, but I still feel like I've just been unfaithful to him. I don't know what the hell came over me.

As much as I hate to admit it, our exchange has sparked something in me…, yet it's barely a flicker compared to the inferno Dean lit up inside me whenever we kissed. You know that expression, he doesn't just kiss, he eats.

That was Dean.

Oh God, what am I doing? Way to go and make a big fat colossal mess of everything, Jeyla.