Chapter 2 #3
Roz exhaled quietly. “And what about you? When do you get to depend on someone else?”
Olivia’s eyes filled silently, tears finally slipping freely down her cheeks, breath catching sharply. Her voice cracked softly. “I- I don’t know. I don’t think I know how.”
Roz reached out, cupping Olivia’s face between her palms, forcing her sister’s gaze upward to meet hers. “Liv, you don’t get to martyr yourself for a system that’s already eating you alive. You’re allowed to stop.”
At Roz’s words, something deep within Olivia unraveled swiftly, completely. She pressed her hands to her mouth, trying desperately to stop the broken sob escaping her throat but failing utterly. Her shoulders shook as she began crying openly, her careful composure finally shattered.
Roz pulled Olivia firmly, against her chest, embracing her fully.
Olivia sobbed freely into Roz’s shoulder, her body trembling with deep, wrenching breaths, years of suppressed exhaustion, pressure, and grief finally spilling over.
She clung to Roz like a lifeline, the strength of her sister’s embrace an anchor in her storm.
“I’m so tired,” Olivia choked out between shuddering breaths, shame stripped away completely. “Roz, I’m so tired.”
Roz held her tighter, her voice steady and soothing. “I know, Liv. I know. Let go.”
Olivia cried until she felt utterly emptied and hollowed-out, trembling softly in Roz’s arms. Finally, she stilled slowly, her breathing ragged yet calmer, the storm of emotion momentarily spent.
Roz wiped the tears from Olivia’s cheeks, brushing hair from her face. Her expression softened with quiet determination. “Come on. You’re done here.”
Olivia finally nodded weakly, surrendering completely. Roz helped her into the passenger seat, securing the seatbelt around her.
They drove in silence, and Olivia leaned her forehead against the cool window. Roz navigated through traffic, her calm competence a soothing balm to Olivia’s raw emotions.
Back at Olivia’s apartment, Roz moved silently through the space, gathering items swiftly—a duffel bag, clothes, toiletries, a few books Olivia loved, small comforts Olivia herself rarely paused to allow.
Olivia lay curled on her sofa, her eyes distant and hollow. The room around her felt muted, softened by evening shadows and the quiet, comforting presence of Roz, who continued packing efficiently.
Finally, Olivia stirred slightly, her voice barely above a whisper. “Roz?”
Roz glanced over from the bedroom doorway. “Yeah?”
Olivia swallowed painfully, exhaustion heavy in her chest. “Where are we going?”
Roz zipped the duffel bag closed, stepping back into the living room to face Olivia directly. “Somewhere without cell signal.”
Olivia felt the panic flare again—no signal, no emails, no pager, no way to be reached.
But deeper beneath that, she felt relief.
She hadn’t allowed herself to stop, hadn’t dared imagine stepping away, but Roz was giving her permission.
No, Roz was taking control because Olivia could no longer pretend she was capable of holding it all alone.
“Roz,” Olivia murmured softly, shame tightening in her throat, words thick with vulnerability. “I’m sorry. I’ve tried so hard to hold it all together.”
Roz shook her head immediately, her voice warm yet firm. “You don’t owe anyone an apology, Liv. Not me, not Mom, not the hospital. No one. You’ve carried more than your fair share for far too long.”
Olivia blinked slowly, tears tracking silently down her face again. Her voice trembled softly. “I don’t even know who I am if I’m not…”
“Perfect?” Roz gently finished, eyes soft with understanding. “Always together, always calm? That’s not who you have to be, Liv. You deserve space to figure out who you actually are beyond being useful to everyone.”
Olivia exhaled slowly, heart aching with sudden hopefulness tangled with fear. “Do you think that’s even possible? To find that?”
Roz smiled gently, squeezing Olivia’s hand warmly. “I know it is. Because I found it when I finally stopped running too.”
Olivia nodded slowly, gratitude flooding through her. She trusted Roz completely. She trusted the steadiness in her voice, the strength of her grip, the determination in her eyes.
“You promise?” Olivia whispered, her voice small and vulnerable.
Roz leaned in. “I promise, Liv. You’re not alone in this. Not anymore.”
Olivia closed her eyes, believing Roz’s promise with a sincerity she hadn’t allowed herself in years.
The idea of rest, true rest, felt foreign yet alluring.
She had always pushed forward, never looking back, never pausing.
Roz’s invitation was an escape, but it felt also like an opportunity, a fragile path toward healing.
She felt Roz’s presence beside her—calm, strong, unwavering. Roz had always been her protector, fierce and fiery. Now she was guiding Olivia toward something softer, kinder, unfamiliar but desperately necessary.
Olivia whispered, “Thank you, Roz.”
Roz squeezed her hand once more. “I’ve got you.”
In the stillness, Olivia closed her eyes, allowing herself to believe those simple words. Olivia felt weight easing, piece by careful piece, from her weary shoulders.
Tonight, Roz would take her somewhere far away from who she had become and toward the woman she was meant to find. Olivia drifted into sleep, trusting, at last, that rest and peace were finally within her reach.