22. Elliot
Chapter twenty-two
Elliot
“ Y ou did what, Mother!” I bellow, slamming the plate down on the dining table, the sound echoing like thunder.
“I said I asked Olivia to join us for dinner,” she replies, her tone unflinching. I heard her the first time; I just need to be sure my ears aren’t playing tricks on me.
Slowly, everything starts to click into place. She waltzed into the restaurant just after Olivia left, and somehow, she guilt-tripped me into this family dinner. It was a setup after all.
“I should have known you couldn’t resist meddling,” I say, shaking my head, a mix of anger and disappointment swirling inside me.
“It’s not meddling; it’s helping you set things right before you self-sabotage,” she explains, but I cut her off.
“That’s not your choice to make, Mom. It never was, and you shouldn’t have done that,” I bark, the heat of my anger rising. Her silence tells me she knows she’s overstepped this time.
“I’m sorry for always crossing the line, El, but I’m not sorry for this,” she counters defiantly. “If you hate being in the same room with her so much, you can leave, and we’ll have dinner without you.”
She falls silent, and I stand frozen, my feet rooted to the floor even though logic screams for me to leave. I want to walk out; I do. But I can’t deny the part of me that longs to see her.
I said some harsh things to push Olivia away—lies that were among the hardest I’ve ever had to tell. I care about her; I always have. It became painfully clear during those weeks when the arguments ceased. Love is terrifying; nobody knows that better than I do. Yet here I am again, feeling weak and vulnerable. The battle between my doubts and desires rages on as she enters in her boho-style red dress. Her eyes sparkle in the candlelight surrounding the table, but I remain silent. Aside from the smiles she offers my mother, she keeps her gaze fixed on her plate.
“I hope you enjoyed the meal. You need to eat healthy until your brother returns,” my mother says to Olivia as we begin clearing the table.
“It was delicious, Mrs. Sharp. Feed me like this again, and I might just move in with you,” Olivia responds, hugging my mother and kissing her gently on the cheek.
“Tell that to Elliot; he made most of the dishes tonight, dear,” my mother clarifies, and I see Olivia’s smile fade.
Olivia is still hurt and angry. I deserve whatever she’s thinking about me now. Maybe it’s best she sees what kind of monster I truly am. Perhaps she’ll refuse me if my resolve ever breaks and I chase after her.
I’m in the kitchen, loading the dishwasher, hoping the distance will keep my emotions in check. My mother’s intervention is working its magic because seeing Olivia is harder now than ever. Was it the kiss that changed everything, or, as my mother suggested earlier, am I beginning to see things clearly?
From the kitchen, I watch her chat with my mother, exchanging thoughts on love. I marvel at how anyone could help but fall for her. Who wouldn’t be captivated by that smile? Who wouldn’t be charmed by her endearing, if somewhat delusional, ideas? I certainly did, despite being the hardest man to break.
Olivia glances at her watch, and the change in her demeanor signals she’s ready to leave. But I can’t take my eyes off her.
“Thank you for being a wonderful host, Mrs. Sharp, but I must go now,” she smiles politely.
“That’s fine. Elliot will drop you off, won’t you, dear?” My mother looks at me, a glint of mischief in her eyes.
“Sure,” I sigh, grabbing my keys from the counter and leading the way outside.
Olivia follows in silence, but when we reach the car, she refuses to get in. “You don’t have to drop me home just because your mom asked. I can take care of myself,” she says coolly, standing a good distance away from me.
“Get in the car, Ollie. It’s fine.”
She takes another step back. “I’d hate to cause you any more discomfort. We aren’t friends, so don’t.”
I almost laugh at the depth she’s trying to sink to with her words. “I want to do this, Ollie. It’s not discomfort, so just get in,” I plead, watching her stare at me, weighing my sincerity.
“Alright. But if you complain during the drive, I’ll punch you in the face, and if you speak to me at all, I’ll also punch you in the face,” she replies, her tone deadly serious, as she finally climbs into the passenger seat.
Typical Olivia Reed—always ready with a joke, even in the tensest situations. I respect her wishes during the drive, not out of fear of her punches or any imaginary jiu-jitsu skills she might have picked up while away. I stay silent because I’m still searching for the right words. Should I apologize for last time, or confront my feelings directly?
By the time we pull up in front of her house, I still haven’t found the right words, so I lock the car doors. When she tries to unlock her door to get out, it doesn’t budge. She turns to me, clearly annoyed.
Gripping the steering wheel tightly until my knuckles turn white, I respond, “Hold on. I have something to say.”
“No, you don’t. I will punch you if you dare speak to me,” she protests, curling her fingers into little fists.
Unbuckling my seatbelt, I turn to face her. “Then you might have to start now because I’m not letting you out until you know how I truly feel about you.”
Her face pales, as if she’s seen a ghost, and I know I have her attention—just what I need for what I’m about to say.
“You asked me why I kissed you, why I’ve been ignoring you and acting cold? It’s because I care a lot about you, Ollie, and I’m scared out of my mind,” I admit, sadness weighing heavy in my chest.
"I’ve been hurt before—by my dad and by others. Yet here I am, caught in the same loop I’ve warned myself about," I say with a scoff and a small laugh, while she listens quietly, likely trying to make sense of it all.
Her mouth opens. “I… I don’t know…” she stammers, her words trailing off as I gently tuck a loose strand of hair behind her ear.
“Shhh,” I whisper softly, looking into her eyes with a vulnerability I’ve rarely shown. “I just want you to love me, Ollie. Promise me you won’t break my heart. I don’t know if I could ever recover if you did.”
Her eyes soften, and she leans in closer, her voice barely above a whisper. “I would never do that, El. Never.” Her words soothe my anxious heart as I finally close the distance between us, pressing my lips to hers.
When I pull away, I notice the sadness has vanished from her gaze. She tilts her head slightly, a playful glint in her eyes. “Does this mean we’re exclusive now?”
I smile, teasing her gently. “Haven’t we always been?” The sound of her laughter, light and genuine, is like a soothing melody to me.
Her smile widens as she wraps her arms around my neck. “Care to come inside tonight?”
I raise an eyebrow, mischief dancing in my tone. “Why? So you can punch me for talking to you?”
She laughs, her eyes sparkling with mischief. “Maybe. You’ll just have to find out,” she says, unlocking the door and stepping inside.
As I follow her in, I realize I’m taking a leap of faith, but for the first time, I’m not afraid. With Olivia, I feel like the risk is worth it.
Sometimes, the detour down an unfamiliar path leads to exactly where you’re meant to be.