Not the entire time he’d been in the perfect little version of what his life could’ve been without the island. Seeing his father and mother alive and happy, seeing Thea beautiful without the scars, seeing Sara smiling without the shadows on her soul and Laurel wearing his engagement ring, alive and happy, had been a bittersweet experience.
God, how he’d wanted the innocence of it all. How his soul yearned for that bright happiness that just slipped from his fingers every time.
Except he had it here.
That was the only reason Oliver liked this place. The only reason he stood on the upper level in the mansion that had been his home for so long, watching the guests milling about, the ache in his heart profound because he could’ve had this all.
And for a moment, he’d been swept by it all, the heart of the boy who’d lost everything craving this with a ferocity only he could understand.
And then he’d seen her.
With Palmer. Hand around his waist, face tilted up at him, wearing the same dress she’d been wearing when he’d seen them kiss years ago. He’d burnt that dress by accident in his world. Complete accident that had somehow not happened in here.
His breath caught, watching her. seeing her smile and laugh the way she’d smiled and laughed at him, and his heart closed, the ache there but bearable…
Until he saw her finger.
With Palmer’s ring.
It was in that moment, the moment the jewel winked at him in the light, that his chest closed in on itself, blood rushing to his ears.
This wasn’t right.
None of it was right.
She’d accepted his ring so many times. Accepted his heart, his body, his soul into hers. Her finger was supposed to hold his ring. She was supposed to speak her vows to him and only him, and his vows had always been hers, his heart had always been hers.
He’d been wrong in thinking that he could move on like she had told him to. She hadn’t wanted him to, and neither had he.
Panic filled his system even as clarity intruded.
Panic at even imagining her, any version of her anywhere in any reality, being permanently committed to someone else.
Clarity at the realization of what he needed to do.
He needed to tell the people he’d lost that he loved them, tell them goodbyes and heal their hearts. He needed to find himself some closure and become the man he wanted to be, the man she deserved.
And that was when she looked up suddenly, as though feeling his stare, and their eyes locked.
His heart stopped as he watched her blink, before her eyes flashed with heat, the same heat he remembered putting there so many times, the same heat that had warmed him on cold nights.
And he felt it, even now.
Oliver looked at her, and felt his lips curve in a smile as realization sunk deep into his bones.
Because Felicity Smoak, no matter which reality she existed in, was his.
And every part of him, every version of him, was hers.