Chapter 16 Olivia #2
“See?” Nathaniel leans closer, his gaze never leaving mine. “With me, you’ll never have to choose.”
Something in my chest loosens at that. I take another bite, savoring the taste. “You’re going to ruin me, you know that?”
His lips curve into a slow, knowing smile. “That’s the plan.”
I laugh, shaking my head, but the moment stays with me.
For the second time, within a span of mere days, he has me feeling like it’s okay to want more.
Nathaniel isn’t just rewriting my experiences—he’s rewriting the way I see myself. And for that, I can only be grateful.
The late afternoon sun casts a soft glow over my parents’ house as Nathaniel and I stand at the front door.
I ring the doorbell and the chime echoes inside.
A knot twists in my stomach, a familiar unease I haven’t been able to shake since my mother’s call earlier.
Dinner with my family is rarely a pleasant affair, but now it comes with the added pressure of Nathaniel witnessing whatever chaos is about to unfold.
I glance up at him, taking solace in his calm presence. He looks dashing and entirely unbothered, one hand resting lightly on my lower back, the other casually in his pocket. When he catches my gaze, he gives me a small, reassuring smile, and I feel the knot loosen ever so slightly.
The door swings open to reveal Sampson, his expression pure irritation, his fingers twitching at his side like I’ve just interrupted something vitally important.
“Oh, it’s you,” he mutters, glancing briefly at Nathaniel before turning his head and calling out, “Mom, they’re here!”
Without another word, he turns and is halfway back to the living room by the time we cross the threshold. From the couch, I can hear Michael’s voice rise in protest. “Hurry up! I’m not pausing again.”
Sampson shoots back a quick “Shut up, I’m coming!” before flopping down beside his brother, the sound of engines roaring from the television filling the space.
I cringe inwardly at their behavior, stealing a glance at Nathaniel.
His jaw is set, his expression unreadable, but I catch the faintest flicker of disapproval in his eyes.
Before I can say anything, he pulls me closer, pressing a soft kiss to the side of my head.
His breath brushes my temple as he murmurs, “Relax.”
My mother appears a moment later, her heels clicking against the worn hardwood floors. My heart sinks at the sight of her.
She’s dressed as though she’s attending some formal gala, her makeup caked on, her perfume wafting heavily through the air. I can tell she went all out for Nathaniel’s sake, and the thought makes my skin crawl.
“Ah, Nathaniel!” she exclaims, her smile stretched a little too wide. “What a delight to see you! Thank you so much for taking the time to join us for dinner.”
Nathaniel gives a polite, measured smile. “Thank you for inviting us, Mrs. Bennett.”
“Oh, please, call me Claudia,” she insists, brushing at an imaginary speck of dust on her dress.
Her gaze flicks between us, lingering on Nathaniel with something close to admiration.
Then, her hand shoots out, grabbing my arm with surprising force.
“Olivia, darling, can I borrow you for a quick word? Just us girls.”
Nathaniel’s grip on my shoulders tightens instinctively, his gaze narrowing as he studies her. I place a hand on his chest, touched by his protectiveness. “It’s fine,” I say softly, giving him what I hope is a reassuring smile. “I’ll be right back.”
After a moment, he reluctantly releases me. His hand lingers on my arm for a beat longer, his gaze locking with mine. “I’ll be right here,” he says.
As my mother tugs me toward the kitchen, I look over my shoulder to see Nathaniel straightening, his attention shifting to the twins. “Mind if I join?” I hear him ask, his tone as easy as if he’s asking for a cup of tea.
Michael snorts. “You know anything about F1?”
“My favorite driver is Max Verstappen,” Nathaniel replies smoothly. “I’ve been following him for years.”
Their voices fade as we disappear into the kitchen, leaving me bracing for whatever my mother has to say.
I find my father at the table, hunched over the day’s receipts with a mug of coffee in hand. He barely looks up when I enter, grunting in acknowledgment. The only sound is the quiet scratch of his pen against paper until my mother, practically vibrating with excitement, breaks the silence.
“I had to see for myself,” my mother begins, her voice teetering on the edge of a squeal.
Her eyes gleam as she pulls out her phone, waving it in the air as if it holds the secrets of the universe.
“The Caldwell family! Olivia, I nearly fell over when I looked them up. Billionaires! Can you believe it? Billionaires!”
My stomach turns as I force a tight smile, bracing myself for whatever she says next.
“Oh, I could tell right away that the boy was rich,” she continues, her laughter sharp and grating.
“But billionaires? I could hardly believe it.” She fixes me with a look that gives me goosebumps, equal parts appraisal and incredulity.
“I have to hand it to you, Olivia—I don’t know how you managed it.
You’re not exactly…well, you know. But whatever wiles you used to catch his attention, I have to say I’m impressed. ”
Heat rises to my cheeks, not from pride but from sheer mortification. I clench my fists, digging my nails into my palms to keep from snapping back.
“For the first time, Olivia, I’m proud of you,” she says. “I finally understand why you worked so hard to get into that fancy university—you wanted to snag a rich man!”
I swallow hard, her words slicing through me with a precision only she can manage. She isn’t proud of me for who I am or what I’ve achieved—only for what she thinks I could gain for her.
Her voice drops conspiratorially as she leans closer. “You need to secure a proposal, Olivia. For the family’s benefit. Imagine what Nathaniel’s resources could do for all of us.”
I feel bile rise in my throat as she rattles on. “I was so annoyed when you didn’t come home for winter break,” she admits, her laugh dismissive. “But now I see what you were up to. Spending time with his family, working your way in. Clever girl.”
I step back instinctively, needing space, but she grabs my arm before I can retreat. Her nails dig in just enough to sting. “I’m serious, Olivia. This is your chance to elevate all of us. Think about what this could mean for the family.”
“Claudia,” my father interjects for the first time, his voice gruff but lacking conviction. Of course he only speaks when the discomfort becomes too obvious to ignore.
But my mother is already spinning her fantasies aloud. “A bigger house—something that matches our new status. And imagine this—when the boys turn sixteen, maybe Nathaniel could buy them fancy cars like that Aston Martin of his.”
“Mom, that’s not…that’s not what this is,” I try, but she barrels on, untouched by reality.
“A billionaire, Olivia! It’s nothing to him!”
I can’t take it anymore. “Please stop,” I beg, my voice cracking.
She pauses, momentarily startled, before her expression softens into something meant to look maternal but feels hollow. “Oh, Olivia, I’m just so proud you’ve finally made something of yourself. You wouldn’t believe the things the neighbors have been saying. All because of that car in the driveway.”
I stare at her, the air knocked out of me. The weight of her words presses down, crushing and suffocating all at once. She hasn’t said a single word about me—about the late nights, the scholarships, or the sheer effort it took to get where I am. All she sees is what Nathaniel can provide.
I wrench my arm free and walk out of the kitchen without another word. My chest feels tight as I cross the threshold into the living room. Nathaniel’s gaze snaps to me immediately, his eyes narrowing as he takes in my expression.
“Hey,” he says softly, closing the distance between us in two steps. His hand comes to rest on my arm, grounding me. “You okay?”
I nod, but it’s weak, unconvincing. His hand slides down to intertwine with mine, squeezing gently. “Baby,” he murmurs, his voice low and steady, “if something’s wrong, you can tell me.”
“I’m fine,” I reply quickly, forcing a smile that I know he doesn’t buy.
His thumb traces slow circles over the back of my hand as he studies me, his protective instincts flaring in the tension of his jaw and the glint in his eyes. “Okay,” he concedes finally, though his tone suggests otherwise. “I’m here.”
And for now, that’s enough.
My mother pulled out all the stops tonight—her finest tablecloth, the silverware that only sees the light of day for Easter or Christmas, and a centerpiece of wilting carnations that she’d probably picked up from the gas station.
It’s all so performative, so painfully obvious, and I can barely sit still.
Nathaniel, of course, doesn’t seem fazed.
He sits across from me, perfectly composed, his posture straight but relaxed, his gaze sweeping the table like a king surveying his court. He hasn’t said much since we sat down, just polite nods and occasional murmurs of thanks.
The twins are chattering away, their voices loud and eager as they recount their afternoon with Nathaniel. They were utterly enchanted by him within minutes of picking up the PlayStation controllers, their usual aloofness dissolving into excitement.
“Mom, you won’t believe it!” Michael exclaims, his face lighting up as he turns to our mother. “Nathaniel has been to the F1 Grand Prix at Silverstone! In England! He’s seen the races live!”
My mother’s expression morphs into one of almost theatrical delight. “Oh, isn’t that wonderful!” she gushes, clasping her hands together. “Nathaniel, you simply must bring the boys along next time. They would love it! Wouldn’t it be a lovely bonding experience with their soon-to-be brother-in-law?”