Chapter 16 Olivia #3
I freeze, her words cutting through the room like a sharp blade. I steal a glance at Nathaniel, who’s still and composed, though I catch the flicker of irritation in the set of his jaw.
“We’ve been telling Olivia she should really start thinking about the future.
You know, marriage, settling down… Don’t you think you should make things official sooner rather than later?
” my mother continues, clearly emboldened by Nathaniel’s silence.
“It would be such a wonderful opportunity for the family. Speaking of opportunities,” she adds with sugary sweetness, “it’s so good to know that Olivia has someone like you looking out for her.
With your resources, I’m sure you could help ensure the boys get into good colleges.
They’ll need all the help they can get in this economy, after all. ”
I grip the edge of my chair, my heart pounding as I will her to stop, but she isn’t finished. Even my father, usually quiet in these moments, chimes in awkwardly.
“You know, Nathaniel,” he says, scratching the back of his neck, “we’ve been thinking about upgrades for the diner. New equipment, maybe expanding the kitchen. It’d be great to have a…partner who believes in family businesses.”
The air grows thick, tension radiating from Nathaniel beside me.
He hasn’t said a word yet, but I can feel the storm brewing beneath his calm exterior.
I wonder if he’s reconsidering everything now.
Maybe he’s finally realizing that he deserves someone more suitable… someone who doesn’t come with all this.
“Of course, Olivia has always been such a practical girl, hasn’t she? She knows what she’s doing, finding herself such a fine man. I mean, it’s not like she’s the prettiest girl in the room, but she’s smart enough to know how to make herself useful.”
Heat rushes to my face as the familiar sting of humiliation clogs my throat. Before I can respond, Nathaniel moves. In a heartbeat, panic spikes—fear that he’s had enough of them, that he’s about to walk away from all of this…from me.
The sound of his chair scraping against the floor echoes through the room as he rises to his feet. His presence seems to expand, filling the space with an intensity that makes everyone else shrink back.
“That’s enough,” he says, his voice cold and measured. He levels a gaze at my mother that freezes her mid-smile. “You will apologize to Olivia. Now.”
My mother blinks, her mouth opening and closing as she fumbles for words. “I—I didn’t mean—”
“You did.” Nathaniel cuts her off, his tone sharp enough to slice through her excuses.
“And it’s not the first time. I’ve watched you belittle her, take advantage of her, dismiss everything she’s achieved, and then you measure her worth by what she can do for you—what you think you’re entitled to take.
” His jaw tightens. “Let me be clear—Olivia has never asked me for a thing. Not once. And she owes you nothing. Not her time, not her money, and certainly not her happiness.”
The room falls silent, the weight of his words hanging heavy. My father shifts uncomfortably in his seat, his face reddening, but he doesn’t dare interrupt.
Nathaniel’s gaze sweeps over both of them, his voice dropping to a deadly calm.
“If I hear so much as a whisper that you’ve hurt her again—emotionally, financially, or otherwise—I will ruin everything you hold dear.
I will come for the diner, this house, your reputation.
I have the means, the power, and the will to ensure you never recover. ”
He lets the threat linger, his eyes narrowing as he adds, “Well?”
My parents stare at him, their faces frozen in disbelief. My mother’s lips part as though she wants to say something, but no sound comes out. My father looks down at his hands, his jaw working as he tries to muster a response.
Nathaniel’s voice sharpens, each syllable biting with precision. “Apologize.” He enunciates the word slowly, his tone a knife’s edge. “Unless you want to test how serious I am when I make a threat.”
My mother’s face blanches, her gaze darting toward me for help that I can’t give. “I’m sorry,” she mutters finally, the words tumbling out with the grace of gravel falling onto pavement.
“Me too,” my father grumbles, barely lifting his head as he forces out the words. “Sorry, Olivia.”
The apologies are hollow, their insincerity as transparent as glass, but Nathaniel doesn’t push further. He simply gives a curt nod, his expression unreadable. His hand finds mine beneath the table, steadying me as he turns to me fully.
“Come, Olivia,” he says, his tone softening just enough to make me feel grounded again. “We’re done here.”
I rise with him, his hand warm and secure around mine as he leads me out of the house. As the cool evening air hits my face, I let out a shaky breath I haven’t realized I’d been holding.
Nathaniel stops beside his car, turning to face me. His eyes soften as he cradles my face with both hands, his thumbs brushing against my skin. “Are you okay?” he asks quietly.
I nod, my voice barely above a whisper. “Thank you.”
He pulls me into his arms, holding me tightly. “Always,” he murmurs, and for the first time in what feels like forever, I feel safe.