Chapter 29
OLIVIA
I find him in his office, sitting in darkness.
The door is ajar, just enough for a sliver of hallway light to cut across the hardwood floor. I push it open slowly, take two steps in, then cringe at the too-loud intrusion of my heels smacking against the floor. I slip them off and pad in on bare feet. The silence swallows up every sound I make.
Stefan sits behind his desk, chair turned toward the window. His silhouette is sharp against the city lights beyond the glass. He doesn’t move when I enter or show any sign that he’s heard me.
“Stefan?”
Nothing.
I close the door behind me and move deeper into the room. My eyes adjust to the dimness. I can make out the rigid set of his shoulders, the white bone of his knuckles shining through his skin where he’s gripping the armrests of his chair like he’s trying to strangle the life from it.
“Hey.” I try again, softer this time. “I’ve been looking for you.”
Still nothing.
I round the desk and stop beside his chair. Now, I can see his face, or what little the shadows allow. His jaw is clenched. His eyes are fixed on something outside, or maybe nothing at all.
“What’s wrong?”
He doesn’t look at me. “I need space, Olivia.”
I’ve never heard him say anything so dead or monotone. It’s like he’s a hostage, reading words off a script he doesn’t believe in.
“Stefan—”
“I said I need space, Olivia.” The second time around, there’s a familiar if alarming surge of anger to his voice. “Can you give me that?”
Every rational part of my brain is screaming at me to back off, to give him what he’s asking for. But I can’t. Not when he’s sitting here alone in the dark, radiating pain like a wounded animal.
I move behind his chair instead. My hands find his shoulders. They’re rigid, locked up tight with whatever silent burden he’s carrying.
“We don’t have to talk if you don’t want to,” I murmur as I start working my thumbs into the knots along his shoulder blades. “We’ll just stay here, in the darkness, just the two of us, okay?”
He doesn’t answer. Doesn’t relax, either, but he doesn’t push me away. I take that as permission to continue.
I massage him in silence. There’s so much tension under my hands. I wish I could dissolve it with touch alone. After a moment, I lean down and press my lips to the side of his neck. Once. Twice. Three—
He moves so fast I barely register it. One second, I’m leaning over him; the next he’s on his feet, shoving me back hard enough that I stumble.
“Did you not hear me, woman?!” he snarls. “I said I needed fucking space. Don’t make me say something I’ll regret.”
“L-like what?”
He says nothing. Just stands there, chest heaving, fists clenched at his sides.
Then he turns and stalks to the sofa against the far wall. He drops onto it like someone cut his legs out from under him.
I follow him. I don’t know why. Maybe because seeing him like this hurts more than any angry growls or vicious insults he could throw at me.
I sit on the coffee table across from him and try to think of something to say. Something that will pull him out of whatever dark place he’s sinking into.
“My mother was insufferable today,” I say finally. “At the meeting.”
He doesn’t respond, but I keep going anyway.
“She couldn’t help herself. I expressly told her not to discuss my private life and then she goes and tells the entire board that I’m pregnant.”
Stefan’s head snaps up. His eyes find mine in the darkness, and they’re blazing. “What?”
I wave a hand. “It’s fine. I mean, well, no, it’s not fine, but it’s not the end of the world. At least that’s a fact, right? She also told them that we might be getting married. Which is absurd and self-serving and—”
“What the fuck is wrong with her?” He’s on his feet again, pacing now. “No one can know you’re pregnant. What if it gets back to my mother?”
The air goes out of my lungs. “I... Stefan, what are you talking about? Your mother already knows.”
He stops mid-stride. Turns to face me. “What?”
“She already knows about the baby. Natalia does, I mean. She guessed when I was with her.”
“How?” His face is absolutely stricken with panic. “How the fuck does she know?”
“Well, like I said, she just sorta guessed. And I—”
“And you confirmed it?”
I swallow hard. “I... yes. She already knew, Stefan. There was no point in lying.”
“‘No point’?” He laughs miserably. “‘No point’ in keeping the single most important piece of leverage away from a woman who wants to destroy me?”
“She’s your mother—”
“She’s a wolf out for blood.” He takes a step toward me. Then another. “And you just handed her exactly what she needed to hurt me.”
“That’s not fair. I didn’t know—”
“You didn’t know because you’re naive.” Another step. “You walk around thinking everyone has good intentions. That people can be reasoned with and that all mothers love their children.”
“Stefan—”
“You have no idea what you’ve done.” He’s close now. Close enough that I can see the fury in his eyes, the tremor as his hands shake with the effort of not... what? Hitting something? Breaking something? Breaking me?
“I’m sorry,” I whisper. “I didn’t mean to—”
“You need to disabuse her of that notion. Immediately.”
“Disabuse Natalia…?”
“No. Your mother. You said she thought we’d get married next. You need to tell her otherwise.”
I feel pain before I understand why. “What are you saying, Stefan?”
“Tell her there will be no marriage. She needs to stop spreading rumors and making assumptions about my life.” His jaw works. “I can’t marry into a family of shameless social climbers who use their children as bargaining chips.”
My breath catches. “That’s not fair.”
“Isn’t it?” He leans in. I can smell scotch on his breath. “Your mother parades you around like a show pony and chants my name like it’s the same thing as saying open fucking sesame to every door of Boston high society. And you know what? You let her.”
“I don’t let her do anything!” I cry out. “You don’t know what it’s like—”
“Oh, yes, I fucking do. I know exactly what it’s like to have a mother who sees you as a tool.” His voice is cold now, controlled, with none of the anger from a moment ago. Which somehow makes it worse. “The difference is, I cut mine out of my life. You keep trying to win yours over.”
Tears sting my eyes. “You’re being cruel.”
“It’s the truth.” He straightens up, putting distance between us again.
“And here’s another truth: I could never marry a woman naive enough to trust my mother.
You were stupid enough to confirm her suspicions about the pregnancy and you were weak enough to let her own mother walk all over you. Do you think that’s endearing, Olivia?”
Each accusation finds a soft spot, a vulnerability I didn’t know I was exposing. I feel like I’m being stabbed again and again.
“You don’t mean that,” I manage.
He doesn’t even bother to insist he does. Instead, he turns away from me, heading for the door. “Figure out how to control her, Olivia. Or this arrangement ends. The baby changes nothing.”
“Stefan, wait—”
But he’s already gone. The door slams behind him, and I’m left sitting on the coffee table in the darkness, tears streaming down my face.
I sit there for a long time. Long enough for my legs to go numb. Long enough for the tears to dry on my cheeks. Long enough to replay every word he said, every accusation he threw at me.
Naive.
Stupid.
Weak.
Is that really what he thinks of me?
Or is he just lashing out because he’s hurt? Because whatever happened today pushed him to a breaking point, and I was the nearest target?
I don’t know. I don’t know anything anymore.
I walk to the window where Stefan was sitting earlier and look out at the city. Boston sprawls below, full of lights and life and happy people going about their business. What I wouldn’t give to be amongst them right now, utterly oblivious to what’s happening in this horrible room.
I press my forehead against the cool glass and close my eyes.
Maybe Stefan is right. Maybe I am naive. I trusted Natalia when I should have been more guarded. I let my mother steamroll me when I should have stood my ground. I keep thinking people will change, will be better, will love me the way I need them to.
But they don’t.
They won’t.
And I’m the fool for expecting otherwise.
My hand drifts to my stomach. There’s no visible sign yet, no bump or swell. But I know what’s growing there. In a few months, everything will change.
I thought Stefan and I were building something. But his words tonight shattered that illusion. He doesn’t see a future with me. He sees a mistake to be corrected.
The baby changes nothing.