Chapter Sixteen #2
But neither of us moves immediately. We stand in the waves, arms around each other, watching the last sliver of sun disappear into the Pacific. It’s one of those perfect moments that you try to memorize even as it’s happening, knowing you’ll want to return to it later.
Finally, we wade back to shore and walk hand in hand up the beach. I can see Maya and the others in the distance, sitting on towels and talking animatedly about something. Normal teenage evening activities that seem both familiar and strange after the intimacy Derek and I just shared.
“See you tomorrow?” Derek says as we reach the point where we need to part ways, him toward the boys’ cabins, me toward the girls.’
“See you tomorrow.”
He kisses me once more, quick and soft, then heads off toward his cabin. I watch him go for a moment before rejoining Maya and the others.
“Have fun with your not-third-wheel activities?” Maya asks with a grin.
“Shut up,” I say, but I’m smiling as I sit down on her towel.
“That’s not a denial.”
“That’s not an admission either.”
“Your hair’s all windblown and you have that post-kissing glow. It’s definitely an admission.”
I throw sand at her, but she’s not wrong. I do feel different, calmer, happier, more settled than I have in weeks. Being with Derek has this way of making everything else seem manageable, even the family complications that have been consuming so much of my mental energy.
We stay on the beach until full darkness falls and Mrs. Henderson’s whistle echoes across the water, calling everyone back to their cabins for the night.
In the cabin, we get ready for bed with the comfortable efficiency of people who’ve spent the last few days learning to share space. Maya and I claim the bathroom first, brushing our teeth side by side while Sophie and Jessica organize their gear for tomorrow’s departure.
“Today was amazing,” Maya says through a mouthful of toothpaste.
“Really amazing,” I say
“You two are really good together, you know that?”
“It feels good.”
“The best relationships do.”
We finish getting ready and climb into our narrow bunks. The cabin settles into quiet conversations and rustling sleeping bags as everyone winds down from the day. Outside, I can hear the gentle sound of waves on the shore and the distant call of seabirds settling in for the night.
As I drift off to sleep, my last thought is of Derek’s arms around me in the water, the way the evening light caught in his eyes, and the promise that whatever we’ve found together doesn’t have to end just because the trip does.
The bus ride back to school passes in a blur of sleeping students, scattered conversations about the trip, and the gradual return to cell phone connectivity as we approach the mainland.
My phone buzzes with notifications I’ve missed over the past three days, but I ignore them, not quite ready to rejoin the digital world yet.
At school, we collect our duffel bags and disposable cameras and Derek gives me a long hug goodbye in the parking lot, his lips brushing against my ear as he whispers, “This was the best three days ever.”
“Text me when you get home,” I say, even though we’ll probably see each other tomorrow at school.
“Already planning to.”
The drive home feels surreal after three days of island time.
Traffic lights and strip malls and the general chaos of suburban Los Angeles seem overwhelming after the peaceful simplicity of the research station.
But as I turn into our driveway and see our familiar white bungalow with its blue shutters and jasmine-covered porch, I feel a rush of affection for home.
I grab my duffel bag and head for the front door, already planning to tell my mom and Robert about it all.
But when I unlock the door and step inside, Mom is sitting at the kitchen table, and she’s crying.
Not the gentle, frustrated tears I’ve seen her shed over work stress or sad movies, but the kind of raw, heartbroken sobbing that makes your chest hurt just witnessing it.
Her hair is disheveled, her makeup smeared, and there are tissues scattered across the table like evidence of a long emotional siege.
Robert’s car wasn’t in the driveway when I pulled in, which means he’s still at work.
“Mom?” I drop my duffel bag by the door and hurry to her side. “What’s wrong? What happened?”
She looks up at me with red-rimmed eyes, and for a moment she just stares like she’s not quite sure I’m real.
“You’re home,” she says, her voice thick with tears.
“I’m home. What’s going on? Are you okay?”
She takes a shaky breath, wiping her eyes with a tissue that’s clearly been used many times already. “I’ve been thinking. About you, about Jeremy, about everything I said last week. About the choices I made eighteen years ago.”
My stomach clenches.
“I’ve been selfish,” she continues, her voice barely above a whisper. “So incredibly selfish. I kept you from your father not to protect you, but to protect myself. From having to share you, from having to face what I did by leaving Michigan the way I did.”
“Mom,”
“No, let me say this. I need to say this.” She reaches for my hands, holding them tightly in her own. “You have every right to know Jeremy. To have a relationship with him and with Emma if that’s what you want. I was wrong to keep that from you, and I’m sorry. I’m so, so sorry.”
“Him being brought up after all these years,” she continues, “it brought up everything I thought I’d buried.
All the pain, all the anger, all the fear of losing you to the family I kept you from.
I thought I could keep him in the back of my mind forever, never think about him, never deal with what happened.
But you have the right to make your own choices about your relationship with him. ”
“Mom, you don’t have to…”
“I do have to. Because I love you more than my own fear, more than my own hurt feelings, more than my need to pretend the past doesn’t exist.” She squeezes my hands tighter.
“If you want to talk to Jeremy, if you want to meet him and Emma, if you want to build relationships with them, I support you. Completely. Whatever happens, whatever you decide, I love you and I support you.”
“Thank you,” I whisper, tears threatening to fall. “Thank you for saying that.”
“I should have said it years ago. I should have been brave enough to let you know him when you were little, when it might have been easier for everyone.”
“Maybe. But you did what you thought was right at the time. And you raised me, Mom. You and Robert gave me a good life, a family that loves me. That doesn’t change just because I want to know where else I come from.”
She pulls me into a fierce hug, and we both cry—her from relief at finally letting go of eighteen years of secrets and control, me from the overwhelming realization that I no longer have to choose between loving my mom and wanting to know my father.
When we finally separate, she wipes her eyes and attempts a smile. “Tell me about your trip. I want to hear everything.”
A week passes in the blur of returning to routine. School, soccer practice, homework, time with Derek that feels both more precious and more natural after our Catalina experience.
My upcoming game gets closer—two days away now.
Coach Martinez has been running us through drills with increasing intensity, and I can feel my skills sharpening, my focus improving.
The heart condition that seemed so scary a few weeks ago has become just another piece of information about my body, manageable and monitored but not limiting.
At lunch on Tuesday, I’m scrolling through Instagram while Maya complains about her calculus teacher when a notification makes my heart stop.
Message from emmakline.17.
I stare at the notification for a full ten seconds before tapping it.
Emma: Hi Olivia, I’m so sorry for disappearing like that. I didn’t mean to ghost you - that’s not who I am. My mom found out I was messaging you and took my phone away. She went through all my accounts and deleted a bunch of stuff. Dad had to get me a new phone where she can’t control what I do.
Emma: I know this is going to sound weird, but my mom really doesn’t like your mom. Like, REALLY doesn’t like her. I don’t want to get into all the details because it’s messy and old drama, but she freaked out when she found out I was talking to you.
Emma: I felt awful leaving you hanging like that, especially after we had such a good conversation. Did I do something wrong? I really hope you don’t think I just changed my mind about wanting to know you.
Relief floods through me that I actually laugh out loud, drawing curious looks from Maya and Sophie.
“Good news?” Maya asks.
“The best news.”
I type back quickly:
Me: Emma, I’m so glad to hear from you! I was worried I’d said something wrong or that you’d decided having a half sister was too complicated. I’m sorry your mom reacted badly - I can’t imagine how stressful that must have been.
Emma: It was pretty awful for a few days. But Dad stood up for me, which was nice. He said I have the right to know you if I want to, and that mom can’t control that anymore.
Emma: Speaking of which - I really want to come visit California. Not spring break, but sooner. I know we’d both have to talk to our parents first, but would you be interested in meeting in person?
My heart pounds as I read the message. A month. Emma wants to come visit.
Olivia: Yes! I would love to meet you. And I think my mom would be okay with it now - we had a big conversation last week and she said she supports whatever relationship I want to have with you and Jeremy.
Emma: Really? That’s amazing! I was so worried she’d hate the idea.
Emma: I should probably talk to Dad tonight about dates and logistics. Are you free to video chat this weekend? I feel like we have so much to catch up on, and I want to hear about your school and your life and everything.
Olivia: Definitely. This weekend works perfectly.
Emma: I can’t wait! I’ve been thinking about you constantly since that first conversation. It’s so weird having a sister I’ve never met but feeling like I already know you somehow.
Olivia: I know exactly what you mean. Talk to Jeremy about the visit - I’ll talk to my mom. This is really happening, isn’t it?
Emma: It’s really happening. I can’t wait to meet you, Olivia.
I put my phone away and look up to find Maya staring at me with raised eyebrows.
“That was definitely not just good news,” she says. “That was life-changing news.”
“Emma wants to visit. Soon.”
Maya’s eyes go wide. “Your sister and your biological father are coming here?”
“Maybe. We still have to talk to our parents, but…” I can’t keep the smile off my face. “It’s really going to happen, Maya. I’m going to meet them.”
“That’s incredible, Liv. How are you feeling?”
“Okay, terrified in a way.” I gather my lunch trash, suddenly too energized to sit still. “I need to get to practice. Coach will kill me if I’m late.”
“Text me after you talk to your mom!”
“I will!”