Fated To Not Just One But Three novel Chapter 486

Chapter 486: missing him

Olivia’s POV

Two days had passed. Two long, quiet days. The house felt different now... calmer, emptier. I hadn’t gone near Lennox’s room since that night. Every time I walked past it, a strange chill ran through me, as if something inside was calling to me.

I’d made my decision. No more rituals. No more trying to bring Lennox back. Maybe this was what he wanted, for me to stop fighting the impossible. Maybe his last message, whether dream or miracle, was his way of saying goodbye.

I wanted to believe he was still alive somewhere, that Levi was keeping him safe, just like he promised. And maybe one day, when the time was right, he’d let me see him. But for now, I wouldn’t push. I couldn’t keep hurting the people who were still here.

So I tried to move forward.

That morning, we all sat at the dining table. The sunlight came through the big windows, warm and bright, but it didn’t feel the same. Levi sat across from me, quiet, focused on his plate. Louis said little, lost in his own thoughts.

And then my eyes drifted to the empty chair beside Levi. Lennox’s chair. For a moment, I could almost see him there, smiling faintly, teasing me for not finishing my breakfast, his deep voice filling the air. The image was so clear it made my chest ache.

I blinked, and he was gone. Just the empty chair and a plate that would never be used again. My throat tightened. I felt the sting in my eyes before the tears came. I quickly set down my fork and pushed away from the table.

"Excuse me," I murmured, my voice shaking as I stood.

Neither Levi nor Louis said a word, and I was grateful for that. I walked slowly through the quiet halls until my feet pulled me toward his room.

The door creaked softly as I pushed it open. The air inside felt different, heavy, still, yet warm in a way that made my chest ache. Lennox’s scent still lingered faintly, that smell of him that always made me feel safe.

I stood there for a long moment, staring at the bed that had been untouched since the day he was taken away. Everything was just as he’d left it—his jacket thrown over the chair, a book half-open on the nightstand, his picture frame resting beside it.

I walked to his closet and opened it slowly. His clothes hung neatly, untouched. My fingers brushed against one of his shirts, and I pulled it close, pressing it to my face. The scent hit me like a wave—familiar, comforting, heartbreaking.

A sob escaped my throat before I could stop it. I held the shirt tighter, as if I could bring him back by sheer will.

Finally, I turned to his picture on the dresser. His smile in that frame was broad and real, the same one that used to melt every piece of anger I had. I traced my thumb over the glass and smiled bitterly.

"I’m trying," I whispered. "I really am."

My voice cracked at the end, and the tears came again. I walked to his bed and lay down carefully, pulling one of his blankets over me. It still smelled like him, faint but enough to make my heart twist.

For a while, I just lay there, breathing him in, pretending that when I opened my eyes, he’d be there beside me again. Sleep pulled me under until the walls of Lennox’s room melted away and I was somewhere else, somewhere far from pain and loss.

I was twelve again. We were in the pack garden, sitting on the grass after training. My hands were covered in dirt from helping the healer plant herbs, but I didn’t care. I was too busy talking, too full of dreams.

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