You Looked Down on Me Once Now You Look Up (Patricia and Oliver) novel Chapter 272

“Sir.”

“Get out,” Oliver said flatly, ignoring Aiden’s greeting as he opened the door for Patricia.

He was all business, no warmth.

He was supposed to be home by eight. He’d hustled back early, hoping to surprise Patricia. But before he could even say hello, the surprise was on him.

He’d only been gone a few days, and Patricia had somehow ended up at the police station thanks to the Newton family. How did she manage that? Wasn’t she supposed to have everything under control? Wasn’t she the one who could handle anything? And yet here she was, in a mess.

Patricia didn’t move. She fiddled with the hem of her pants, glancing at Oliver, unsure. “Why don’t you come in first?”

Maybe she thought he couldn’t see her clearly, so she switched on the car light.

The second the light came on, Oliver took in her rumpled clothes and tired face. His jaw tightened. He climbed into the car without a word.

Aiden and Jackson exchanged a look and quickly raised the partition.

If someone was going to get in trouble, it would be Patricia—not them. No way were they going to be collateral damage in a couple’s fight. Everyone knows couples argue and make up—they weren’t going to stick around and get caught in the middle.

Back at Cloud Peak, Patricia realized the three kids were home.

Colton and Roger looked like they’d just been lectured. The moment Oliver walked in, they went silent, looking small and nervous.

They watched Oliver and Patricia with big, worried eyes.

“Hi, Aunt Patricia,” they called out, all polite and well behaved.

Patricia smiled at them and chatted for a second before heading upstairs to change.

Oliver followed right behind her.

As soon as they disappeared, the tension in the living room melted away.

The three kids let out a collective sigh of relief.

“Uncle Oliver’s mad again? Why?” one of them whispered.

“Because he came back and Aunt Patricia wasn’t here,” Sara replied, not bothered at all. She’d seen Oliver’s possessiveness plenty of times—most women couldn’t deal with it.

Patricia tried again, even softer. “Please, Oliver, my pants are sticky and it’s really uncomfortable.”

Maybe it was the way she said his name, the gentle tone—whatever it was, his grip loosened a little.

But his face was still stormy. “Don’t take long.”

“I won’t. I’ll be quick.”

She meant it. Patricia took the fastest shower of her life, in and out in under twenty minutes.

For Oliver, every minute dragged.

He stood by the floor-to-ceiling window in his study, listening to Aiden’s report about what had happened that day.

After a long pause, Oliver finally spoke, his voice low. “Grandma planned this, didn’t she?”

Aiden nodded. “Seems like it.”

Oliver let out a cold laugh and lifted his cigar, taking a slow drag. Did Grandma really think no one was watching her?