24. MARCUS
CHAPTER 24
MARCUS
The van jolts slightly as it pulls to a stop, and I glance toward the back where Olivia is getting her makeup done. She’s sitting in a cushy chair, eyes shut while the makeup artist dabs at her cheeks with a soft brush. There’s a nervous energy radiating from her, one that I can pick up from across the cramped space.
“You’re nervous,” I say from my spot across the van.
“I’m fine,” she says, not really meeting my gaze.
I arch a brow. “You’re forgetting who you’re talking to. I’m a brain doctor, remember? You can’t hide from me.”
That gets a smile out of her, soft and unguarded. “Brain doctor, huh? You’re really playing that card? Why would I be nervous? It’s just my entire childhood being broadcast to the internet, no big deal.”
“Hey,” I say quietly. “The audience already loves you. This isn’t going to change that. If anything, it’s just going to make them love you more.”
Her eyes soften, and she opens her mouth to respond, but the words never come. I don’t know what possesses me, but I lean in, my hand brushing hers on the armrest. Her eyes flicker down to my lips, and I’m about to kiss her when?—
“Showtime,” Ethan says, stepping in. His tone is neutral, but his eyes flicker between us, lingering on how close I am to Olivia. There’s a beat of silence, heavy and charged, before he adds, “You two ready?”
Olivia straightens quickly, nodding while avoiding Ethan’s gaze. “Yeah, just a second.”
I step back, schooling my expression as I feel Ethan’s eyes boring into me. There’s jealousy there, even if he’s trying to hide it. Hell, I can’t blame him. The green-eyed monster’s been rearing its ugly head in me plenty lately, too. Sharing Olivia is proving harder than any of us expected, no matter how much we try to pretend otherwise.
The first location is a quaint suburban street, lined with houses that look like they’ve been plucked from a postcard: white picket fences, manicured lawns, and kids riding bikes up and down the sidewalk. The crew has already set up the cameras and equipment in front of a cozy-looking two-story house with pale blue siding and flower boxes in the windows.
“This is where you grew up?” I ask Olivia as we step onto the sidewalk.
“Yep,” she says. “Right there, down the street from Ethan’s place.”
I glance at Ethan, who gives a small nod of confirmation but doesn’t say anything.
We’re letting Olivia take the lead, and the entire series is going to be similar. We need the audience to sympathize with her.
The door to the house opens, and a woman who’s the spitting image of Olivia steps out. She’s older, with silver streaks in her dark blonde hair, but her sharp green eyes and confident posture are all Olivia. She hugs her daughter before turning to face us, her gaze practically boring into mine. I can feel my confidence evaporate.
“So these are the ones you’ve been talking about,” she says to Olivia, her tone amused.
“Mom,” Olivia mutters, clearly embarrassed. “Please don’t.”
But Mrs. Chase isn’t deterred. Her lips curl into a knowing smile as she descends the steps. “Ethan, good to see you again,” she says warmly, extending her hand to him.
“Good to see you too, Mrs. Chase,” Ethan replies, shaking her hand. His voice is easy, familiar, the kind of tone that comes with years of knowing someone.
“And you must be Jax,” she says, turning her attention to him. Her smile is still warm, though there’s a flicker of curiosity in her eyes. “I’ve heard a lot about you.”
“All good things, I hope,” Jax says, flashing his signature grin as he shakes her hand. Of course, he nails the charm without even trying. Olivia lets out a soft laugh, and I feel an uncomfortable twist in my chest.
Finally, her gaze lands on me. Her smile doesn’t quite fade but tightens, taking on an evaluative edge.
“Dr. Hawthorne.”
“Mrs. Chase,” I say, extending my hand. She takes it, but her grip is firm, and she doesn’t let go immediately. “Please just call me Marcus.”
“Yes, I know you’re not my doctor anymore.” She winks at me but I can’t help but shift my gaze away. Awkward is an understatement.
“You used to be my favorite,” she says. “I looked forward to all our appointments.”
“Thanks,” I say, even though I feel anything but thankful. Olivia is watching us, teeth biting into her lips.
“Always so thoughtful, so poised. And now you’re... what? A reality show star?”
“Not quite,” I reply, forcing a smile. “It’s more of a social experiment.”
She raises a brow. “A social experiment? Interesting choice for someone who used to preach about accountability and self-awareness.”
“Mom,” Olivia cuts in, her voice tinged with irritation. “Could you not?”
Mrs. Chase lets go of my hand but keeps her eyes on me, heavy with unspoken judgment. “I’m just trying to understand, sweetheart. It’s not every day you find your former therapist on WeTube.”
“Mrs. Chase, Marcus has been instrumental in making this project a success. We couldn’t do it without him,” Ethan says, glancing at me. “This whole thing started as a social experiment.”
“And now it’s all about winning my daughter’s attention,” Mrs. Chase chuckles. The camera pans in on us. I know this is the good stuff, and Ethan definitely won’t be cutting it off.
“Can we go inside, please?” Olivia asks.
“Sure,” Mrs. Chase says, cueing us to step into the house.
“Don’t take it personally,” Ethan says with a smirk. “She’s protective. Olivia is her only child.”
“Yeah, I got that,” I mutter, sinking into the couch. My voice comes out rougher than I intend, but the truth is, her words cut deeper than I want to admit.
Olivia is talking to her mom, and their conversation drifts over to us. “I just want what’s best for you, sweetheart. I hope you know that.”
“I do,” Olivia says, glancing at the three of us. “And I’m happy. So please, trust me on this.”
Jax pulls up on my other side. “Yeah, Marcus, don’t let it get to you. You’re not exactly the guy she’d expect Olivia to—” He stops short, a grin tugging at his lips. “Well, you know.”
I glare at him, but I can’t argue. They’re both right, and that’s what makes it worse. I wasn’t prepared for Mrs. Chase’s line of questioning or the protective warmth she offered Ethan and even Jax. Compared to them, I feel like an outsider—and I hate that.
I know my relationship with Olivia borders on inappropriate. The fact that I’ve known her since she was a teenager would raise red flags around me, and I haven’t let myself really think about it. The god honest truth is that I had never imagined bumping into Olivia like this, so many years later. Heck, I never imagined I would be divorced by forty. And here I am—falling for a woman almost two decades younger than me, falling deeply.
“She thinks I’m too old for her daughter,” I say, more to myself.
I expect Ethan and Jax to make fun of me. Instead, Ethan says, “Age is relative. Remember, my bandmates dumped me from the band I made because I was too old for them.”
“That was kind of on you, bro,” Jax says. “That was a shitty band.”
“Thanks for the criticism, I’ll pass it on to them,” Ethan says, rolling his eyes.
We head into the garden because Mrs. Chase—or Amelia as I used to know her—thinks her house isn’t ready for visitors.
“It’s just very messy inside,” she says, fussing with a blanket strewn over the couch before she ushers us towards her garden.
The sunlight in the garden is filtered through a canopy of trees, casting dappled patterns on the carefully tended flowers. Rows of marigolds, snapdragons, and petunias line the path. It’s beautiful.
Olivia’s mom, Mrs. Chase, walks ahead of us, hands clasped behind her back like a tour guide showing off her prized exhibit. “This garden has been my little project for years,” she says. “Olivia used to help me plant tulips when she was little—until she decided playing in the dirt was for peasants.”
Olivia laughs, nudging her mom gently. “I was seven, and I was going through a princess phase.”
“Phase?” Mrs. Chase raises an eyebrow. “If I recall, you refused to eat vegetables because ‘princesses only eat cake.’”
“That’s fair,” Jax interjects, smirking. “I mean, cake is the food of royalty.”
Ethan chuckles. “Explains why Olivia’s such a pain on set. We’ve been catering to royalty this whole time.”
“Oh, shut up,” Olivia says, rolling her eyes but smiling.
As we wander deeper into the garden, the crew sets up cameras near a patch of sunflowers. Ethan leans down to inspect one of the blooms, pretending to analyze it like a scientist. “So, Mrs. Chase,” he says, straightening. “What’s your secret? These flowers are thriving.”
She smiles, clearly enjoying the attention. “Lots of patience, a little love, and plenty of compost.”
“Patience, love, and crap,” Jax quips. “Sounds like a solid recipe for life.”
Mrs. Chase laughs. “Exactly. And don’t let anyone tell you otherwise.”
Olivia walks ahead, crouching near a patch of daisies. Her hair catches the sunlight, and everything else seems to fade for a moment.
“Marcus,” Mrs. Chase’s voice pulls me back. She’s watching me, her expression thoughtful. “Can I steal you for a moment?”
I glance at Olivia, who’s busy pointing out something to Ethan, and nod. “Of course.”
Mrs. Chase leads me toward a small bench near the edge of the garden, away from the others. The crew has started positioning Jax and Ethan near the sunflowers for some promotional photos, leaving us in relative privacy.
“Marcus,” she starts, folding her hands in her lap. “I know Olivia values your friendship, but I need to ask—what are your intentions with my daughter?”
The question feels like a sucker punch, but I manage to keep my composure. “I care about Olivia,” I say, choosing my words carefully. “She’s… special. And I just want her to be happy.”
Mrs. Chase narrows her eyes slightly. “That’s a safe answer. Is that the doctor talking?”
“No, just Marcus,” I say. “I’m putting my heart on a sleeve here.”
She focuses on me. “Back when I was going through a rough patch. I trusted you then. But this is my daughter we’re talking about, Marcus.”
“I know,” I say, my voice steady. “And I’d never do anything to hurt her.”
For a moment, she says nothing, her gaze searching mine. Then she nods, a small smile breaking through. “You’ve got a good heart, Marcus. But if you hurt her, therapist or not, I’ll plant you under my tulips.”
I laugh, though there’s an edge of nervousness in it. “Noted.”
Across the garden, Jax and Ethan are mid-photo, both of them striking exaggerated poses while the crew laughs.
“Go on,” Mrs. Chase says, motioning toward Olivia. “I’m sure they need you for something.”
I nod, standing. “Thank you, Mrs. Chase.”
“Call me Amelia,” she says. “And don’t make me regret this.”
The rest of the day feels like a whirlwind, a tour of all the places that make up the patchwork of our shared histories. Each stop isn’t just a memory, though—it’s a carefully coordinated effort to show off the best of Iversteen, thanks to some lucrative deals with local sponsors. We got a solid deal when word got out that we were shooting a new series. Between our episode at the ice-skating rink and at the bar, we’re at a couple of million views. We’re practically celebrities, though it does feel a little surreal.
And yet, it doesn’t feel entirely forced. The town means something to us—means something to Olivia—and that comes through, even if the cameras are rolling.
We start at Marino’s Diner. The place is exactly as I remember it—checkered floors, faded booths, and Marino himself, still bustling around like he’s twenty-five. Olivia slides into a booth for a shot, Ethan and Jax flanking her while the crew fiddles with the lighting.
The diner’s owner, Mr. Marino himself, comes out to greet us, his apron still dusted with flour. He shakes each of our hands, beaming like he’s just won the lottery. “It’s good to see some local kids making something of themselves,” he says. “You all put Iversteen on the map!”
“This place really hasn’t changed,” Ethan says, leaning back like he owns the place. “Still smells like burgers and burnt coffee.”
Jax snorts. “You mean your cologne?”
“Funny,” Ethan replies, rolling his eyes. “I used to come here after every game. Cheeseburgers and milkshakes—Marino probably kept the lights on because of me.”
“Triple cheeseburger,” Olivia chimes in, smirking. “Don’t act like you didn’t go all out.”
“I remember that,” Marino says. “You nearly bankrupted me, kid.”
Everybody chuckles.
“And I remember having you as my employee,” Marino says, nodding at Olivia who blushes.
“You used to work here?” Jax says, raising an eyebrow at Olivia.
“For about two weeks,” she replies, rolling her eyes. “Until I realized I’m a disaster at waitressing. I spilled a strawberry milkshake on some guy’s laptop.”
“Did the guy tip though?” Jax says, chuckling.
Olivia makes a face. “What do you think?”
Jax props his hands on the table. “I don’t know, I would have considered it my lucky day if you poured milkshake down my pants.”
I know the bastard is trying to be cheesy, but Olivia actually blushes and ducks her head. Jax clearly knows what he’s doing.
The camera pans in on my face, so I try my best to smooth it to cover my irritation. I’m not playing this game.
We still have a few places to cover for the day before we head to the coast for the weekend. Jax has a place there, and we’ll wrap up the series there.
We head to the arena where Jax practiced while in school.
“I was picked at eighteen,” he says in his usual easy swagger. “I was pretty famous, you know? Even during high school.”
“Yeah, we all heard about the asshole from Hayden High,” Ethan says earning a scowl from Jax.
“You did have quite the reputation in town,” Olivia says. “Everybody used to call you walking gonorrhea.”
Jax laughs, but I see a flash of hurt when he looks away. I know he’s thinking about his son, the one he presumably had in school that he had no idea about.
We head to my location next: the library. Or, at least, what’s left of it. It’s been renovated into some sort of trendy co-working space, complete with overpriced coffee and hipster décor. But the smell of old books still lingers faintly in the air, like the ghosts of my childhood are refusing to move on.
“This is where I used to hide when life got overwhelming,” I admit, glancing at Olivia as the cameras roll. “I’d bury myself in books, pretending the world didn’t exist.”
“Was it effective?” Olivia asks, genuinely curious.
“Sometimes,” I say. “Other times, it just made me wish I could stay in those stories forever.”
We’re setting up a shot in one of the old reading nooks when I hear a familiar voice call out.
“Dad?”
I freeze. Turning, I see Jill standing at the entrance, holding a backpack and looking like she’s just stumbled into the middle of a dream. She rushes over, wrapping her arms around me before I can even process what’s happening.
“Jill,” I say, my voice a little shaky. “What are you doing here?”
“I’m working on a school project,” she says, her eyes lighting up as she spots the cameras. “Are you filming something?”
Olivia steps forward, curious. “Who’s this?”
“This is my daughter,” I say, rubbing the back of my neck. “Jill, meet Olivia. And, uh, the rest of the team.”
Jill’s face splits into a grin. “The Olivia? From the show?”
Olivia looks startled, then amused. “I guess I’m the Olivia.”
I frown. “You’re watching the show?” I thought her mother kept everything in parental control.
Jill laughs conspiratorially. “Of course I am; everybody in town is.”
I glance at Olivia, who’s frowning. So, if the truth about us comes out, everything will be exposed, even to Jill.