by V. T. Do
I quickly looked down again, though I could still feel the heat of his eyes on me.
Finally, he spoke. “Why, Olivia?”
I let out a small sigh, picked up my mug and pressed it against my chest. Then I looked up at him. Though Max was angry back at Mason’s, I knew he wasn’t angry with me. And that made it worse. I wished he were.
It would be well deserved.
“Why didn’t I tell you? Or why did I do it?”
It was his turn to let out a sigh. Then he took a seat next to me. “Both, sweetheart. Answer both of those questions for me.”
“I… We planned on telling you. Soon. At the beginning, it was because everything was so new. I knew if we’d told you and you didn’t approve, Mason might not want to be with me anymore.”
Max’s jaw clenched. “If a man needs convincing to be with you, then perhaps he shouldn’t be with you in the first place.”
I shook my head. “That was my fear in the beginning, but it had nothing to do with Mason. I should tell you that he tried to fight this.”
“This?”
“Yeah. You know… our feelings.”
Max let out a sigh and rubbed his temple, like he had a headache. And I hated that I was the source of all of this stress. “Okay. Keep talking.”
“I wanted to tell you so many times. But every time I opened my mouth, the words wouldn’t come. And then I realized I was afraid to tell you.”
Max opened his mouth to speak, but I shook my head and interrupted him. “Not like that. I know you wouldn’t ever do anything to hurt me. I just… I hated the thought that I might disappoint you. That it wasn’t what you hoped for. I think a lot of it had to do with me feeling so insecure about my position in your life. Old fears came out, and I was afraid that you might not want anything to do with me anymore.”
“Oh, sweetheart. Don’t you know that’s not possible? You could kill a man and I would help you bury the body before I’d ever turn away from you.”
I smiled a little at that. “I know. And I guess a part of me always knew that. But there was nothing to stop those insecurities from coming out. So instead, I broached the subject of me moving out.”
“Why do you want to move out? Be honest with me, Olivia. You know I love having you here with me, don’t you? I wouldn’t mind if you decided to live here well into your thirties.”
“Of course, you wouldn’t. That way you could always protect me, right?”
“Damn right,” he answered seriously, and I did something I didn’t think I would be able to do when Max took me home.
I laughed.
His eyes softened, and he wrapped his arms around me. I put my mug down and buried my face in his chest.
I didn’t move away when I said, “I wanted to move out to be more independent. I wanted you to see me as someone other than the girl who was broken over the summer. I wanted you to see that I’m stronger than that and, perhaps, that would convince you that I’m strong enough to be with a man like Mason.”
“I already know you’re strong, Olive. You don’t need to convince me of anything.”
“Okay, so maybe I wanted to convince myself. I don’t want to be broken anymore.” The last part was said in a whisper, and Max tightened his arms around me.
“Are you mad at me?” I asked.
“No, Olivia. I’m not mad at you.”
“Are you mad at Mason?”
“Furious,” he said without hesitation.
“Why?”
“Because he knows better.”
“Are you saying he shouldn’t be with me?”
“That’s exactly what I’m saying.”
I pulled away, a frown on my face. “Why not?”
“Olivia.”
I shook my head. “No, why are you against this? He treats me like a princess. I feel cherished by him. He has never once hurt me, and he’s always considerate of what I went through with Lorenzo. Sometimes, a little too considerate. I’m as safe with him as I am with you.”
Max’s jaw clenched, and he looked away from me.
“What are you hiding from me?” I asked quietly.
When Max met my eyes, I knew I’d guessed correctly. Max was hiding something from me. Mason was hiding something from me. And Max didn’t plan on telling me. At least, not today.
I turned and ran to my room, ignoring Max when he called my name.
I slammed the door shut and leaned against the door, a frown on my face. What secret could they possibly be keeping from me?
And it was bad. I knew it. They would only keep something from me if it had the power to hurt me.
I let out a shudder as I climbed into bed, even if it was still early.
There was no way I could face either man with the way I was feeling now.
The next three days passed by in a blur.
I wasn’t talking to either Mason or Max.
I only saw Max in passing, and the last time he tried to talk to me, I told him I didn’t want to talk unless he wanted to tell me whatever it was that they were hiding from me.
As for Mason, he called and texted, but he never made any attempt to come see me. It wouldn’t have been hard for him to try. There were no more than thirty feet that separated his house from ours.
To think he had bought that house for me so I wouldn’t have to be away from Max. If he was planning on staying with me forever, why couldn’t he just tell me what I wanted to know?
So far, I had spent most of the day in my room, because it was Saturday and that meant Max was home. It seemed like he wasn’t planning on going anywhere in the hope of running into me, but I could outlast him.
My phone ringing brought me out of my musing. I grabbed it from the nightstand and looked at the screen, pausing when I saw who was calling me. Instead of ignoring his calls like I had been for weeks, I picked up and held the phone to my ear without saying anything.
He didn’t say anything for a long time, either, but it could probably be because he hadn’t realized I’d picked up.
Then, “Olivia?”
49
Olivia
I didn’t even know what I was doing here.
I realized I could be setting myself up for a world of hurt later… and I didn’t tell Max where I was going.
This was a stupid idea.
So why couldn’t I bring myself to turn around, get in my car and drive home? He hadn’t seen me yet, so it wasn’t like I couldn’t get out of this.
I slowed my steps as I neared the front door of the small local coffee shop, watching my dad through the glass window.
He was sitting in a booth, a cup of coffee in front of him. I knew he was drinking black coffee with one cube of sugar. No more, and no less. Even after all these years, I still remembered the most mundane things about him. Like how he liked to hum a Beatles song in the morning while he shaved, or how he didn’t eat breakfast, just drank coffee, but that his favorite snack was Lucky Charms cereal without milk, and he could eat it at any time of day.
Did he remember anything about me? Did he remember my habits? I didn’t know.
The bell chimed when I entered, and Dad looked up at me. He stood when I walked toward him.
He smiled, but his eyes were hesitant, and I could tell by the way he was rubbing his palm across his thigh that he was nervous. Why was he nervous?
“Hi,” I said, proud of how steady my voice sounded.
“Hi, sweetheart. I, uh, got you a drink. Max said you liked sweets, so I ordered a caramel macchiato. I hope that’s okay.”
I didn’t know what surprised me more, the fact that he seemed to be making an effort to get me to like him, or the fact that he had talked to Max.
How come Max never told me he was in contact with my dad? Did that also mean Max knew where my mom was?
I nodded and took a seat across from him. Dad sat down and fiddled with his cup nervously. I took a sip of my drink. “Thank you. This is perfect.”
He smiled wide, showing a mouthful of straight
white teeth. I realized then that I’d also inherited his smile along with every other feature, save for my brown eyes.
It was a nice smile. It was open and friendly. It was one of those smiles most people trusted.
For once, I didn’t hate the fact that I looked like him.
When he left six years ago, I had resented every feature I’d gotten from him, and I resented the brown eyes I got from my mom. I had wanted nothing more than to look like some distant relative or, if I could, I would have made it so that Max was my real dad and I looked like him.
Now I was glad I wasn’t related to Max.
“Why did you want to see me? Why decide to call me now? I mean, after all these years, why now?”
He looked down at his coffee cup, hiding his eyes from me, but I caught the shame in them. I looked away, uncomfortable. I had convinced myself that I hated him, but I didn’t.
I didn’t know what I felt toward him. Love? Indifference? And which was worse, to love a dad who left, or to be indifferent to the man who gave you life?
“I didn’t mean to disrupt your life. I know things are going great for you now.” He looked up and smiled again. My heart pinched. “I heard you’re attending the University of Chicago. I can’t tell you how I proud I am of you for getting that far. You know, I went there myself.”
That was right. I had almost forgotten. Max and Mason weren’t the only alumni of U of C. My dad went there when I was five. He took mostly online courses, but he graduated a little over five years after that with a degree in risk management.
When I didn’t say anything, he continued. “I wanted to contact you so many times.”
“Why didn’t you?”
“I needed a clean break from your mother. If I continued to show up in your life… in her life, we would have never gotten away from each other. Your mom has this way about her… always reeling people in, even when they didn’t want to be.”
I shook my head, bitterness making my eyes burn. “Yeah? Well, you didn’t just get a clean break from her. You got one from me, too.”
“Baby, I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to make you feel like I abandoned you.”
“Isn’t that what you did? Abandon me? I thought you loved me. And then you just left. Like it was nothing. And to know you have another family… daughters you could be there for? Well, that hurts.”
I looked down, and when something shiny caught my eye, I focused in on it. My breath caught, but I hoped he didn’t notice. He was wearing a gold wedding band. He was married. My dad was married. He left our family behind and started one of his own.
I wiped away the tears tracking down my cheeks, hating that I was breaking down in front of him. I should be strong. But like my mom, he had the power to make me crumble with even the slightest pressure.
“I’m sorry. I was young and foolish. If I could go back, I would do everything differently.”
“You’d take me with you?”
To my horror, he shook his head. Tears fell faster, and I knew we were causing a scene. I didn’t want to have a breakdown in public. I made a move to leave but he grabbed my hand, halting me.
“Please don’t leave, baby. I just got you to agree to talk to me again. Don’t leave like this. Let me explain.”
I pulled my hands away, but I didn’t leave. I hesitantly sat back down.
With a shuddering breath, he ran his fingers through his hair. Another nervous habit, I guessed.
“I wouldn’t take you with me. You wouldn’t have been happy with me. I needed to figure out what kind of man I was, and I knew I wasn’t fit to be a father to such a precious little girl. But I should have kept in contact. I should have been strong enough to leave your mom and stay for you, but I wasn’t, and for that, I’m sorry.”
“You should be. Do you have any idea what Mom was like after you left?”
“Sweetheart, she never…”
“What? Hurt me? No, of course not.” His shoulders relaxed a little, but I ignored the movement and continued. “But she was careless and an alcoholic. I had to clean up her mess. I had to pick up all the pieces you left behind when you decided to leave me with her.”
He shook his head. “But I didn’t leave you with her.” My eyes widened in disbelief and outrage. He held up his hand. “No, listen. I didn’t leave you with your mom. I left you with Max.”
“Max?”
“Yes. If anyone would stay for you, it was Max. I knew he loved you since the moment he held you in that hospital room.”
“No. You’re wrong. He loves me now, but not at the beginning. He only stayed because he was in love with Mom.”
“You really believe that?”
I had before. Now, I wasn’t so sure. I thought back to all those times with my mom and Max. And never once had I seen Max look at my mom the same way I looked at Mason.
I leaned back against the soft cushion.
“Perhaps he loved your mom when he was a teenager, but people change. We grow up, and the person we convinced ourselves we loved as kids is no longer that person. Max fell out of love with your mom a long time ago.”
“You don’t get it. I’m not his responsibility. I was yours.”
“You’re right. You were my responsibility. I did such a terrible job of it, I know. And I am so sorry. But you’re doing Max an injustice by referring to yourself as his responsibility. He had never looked at you like that.”
Dad grabbed some napkins from the dispenser and held them out to me. I took them to wipe my tears away. His eyes were soft when I looked back him again.
“Why did you leave? Was it so horrible that Mom cheated on you? Obviously, you cheated on her, too.”
“No, it wasn’t horrible that she cheated on me. I’m sorry you know about that, and that you know I cheated. I hope you don’t take this to mean all relationships are like that.”
I shook my head. I didn’t. I knew people were capable of committing to each other.
“I guess you can say my pride took a beating. It was one thing to cheat on me with a stranger—I didn’t have to see the man who took my wife to bed. It was another thing to cheat on me with a friend. And on our bed, no less.”
I frowned and Dad grimaced. “Sorry. I shouldn’t be saying any of these things to you.”
“Mom cheated on you with a friend? Was it Max?” I didn’t know how I would feel if it was.
I was relieved when he shook his head. “No.”
“Oh, that’s good.”
And then, to my utter horror, he said, “It was Mason.”
50
Olivia
I drove home on autopilot.
I couldn’t remember the end to my conversation with my dad, and it didn’t even matter.
Hurt, confusion and anger waged a war inside me, and I didn’t know which brother all these conflicting emotions were directed toward.
Max knew. He knew all along that Mason was the other man in my parents’ relationship. He knew that Mason was part of the event that forced my dad to leave, for my mom to break and for everything in between and since.
Where one brother picked up my broken pieces, the other one caused me to break in the first place.
And then I went and fell in love with him.
I was a stupid girl.
I didn’t realize I was crying until I felt the first tear hit my thigh. I wiped them away with the sleeve of my sweater before pulling the car into the garage, right next to Max’s.
I didn’t think, didn’t even hesitate, when instead of walking into Max’s house, I walked over to Mason’s. The house was silent when I entered, but I knew he was home.
I found him in room, his laptop opened on his lap. He looked up when I entered, frowning at the redness of my eyes. There was no way to hide the fact that I had been crying.
“Livie?”
He placed the laptop down and stood up. It looked like he wanted to walk over to me, but he didn’t.
I didn’t say anything for a moment. I just stared at him, wondering how I
could have spent so many nights in his arms, how I could have come to love him as much as I did and not know. He felt like a stranger now.
“Why?” I croaked out.
I didn’t need to elaborate. He knew what I was asking. I could see it in his eyes.
He turned away from me for a moment, and when he looked back, I could see the torment in his cobalt blue eyes. I was sure they reflected my own.
“I just came here for my stuff,” I said, though I knew that was a lie. I didn’t even know why I came by. To see him with my own eyes? To hear him admit to it? Would any of that help? I didn’t think so.
Mason shook his head a little, and I didn’t know what that movement meant.
“Please, baby. Just talk to me.”
“What is there to talk about?” I asked, finally meeting his eyes.
He opened his mouth, but no words came out. For the first time, it was Mason who was at a loss for what to say.
He walked over to me, not touching me but close enough that I could feel his warm breath fanning my face. “How do I explain to you how much I have fallen for you? How much I love you?”
“Love?” I asked, tears drenching my cheeks. “This doesn’t feel like love to me.”
I made a move to turn away, but he pulled me in so tight I couldn’t get away even if I wanted to. The sickest part? I didn’t want to.
“I don’t know what you want me to say. To do…” I said in his chest.
“Anything. Hit me. Yell at me. Just do anything but leave. Please, Livie.”
I pulled back slightly and met his eyes. “I don’t understand you. How could I have been with you for so long, been so close and intimate with you so many times, and not know?”
His anguished eyes never strayed from me, and I swore I saw my own heart breaking in them.
I rubbed at my chest. “It hurts,” I said. “My heart hurts every time I look at you, every time I think about you. It just hurts so bad. How could you?”
