At that moment, Oliver couldn't move. His body stayed still, his hand resting halfway on the table, as his eyes stayed locked on Cora. He blinked again, slow and long, trying to make sense of what she had just said. His throat tightened, and his mind raced.
"You… you're serious," he finally said, his voice low, as if he still didn't fully believe it.
Immediately Cora gave a weak, nervous smile. Her fingers were clasped together tightly on her lap. She couldn't even look directly at him anymore. Her eyes danced around the room before they settled on the floor between them.
"Yes," she replied softly. "I'm serious. I know this sounds crazy, and maybe even stupid to you, but it's not a joke, Oliver. I wouldn't ask you if it didn't matter."
Her voice trembled at the end, and that was what made Oliver's chest ache the most. This wasn't the same stubborn, bold Cora he knew. This was the Cora who had thought long and hard before coming to him. This was the Cora who was genuinely afraid.
