Chapter 9
Olivia
Iclose the oven door and set the timer for eight minutes just as a knock sounds at the front door.
Wiping my hands on a towel, I hurry through the kitchen and down the hallway. Before I can get there, another, louder knock echoes through the house, making me smile. It’s the same thing every Sunday if I don’t get to the door quick enough.
“Hold your horses, woman,” I call out, turning the key and opening the door.
Aubrey stands on the porch, a tote bag bursting with who-knows-what slung over one shoulder, and a smirk playing on her lips.
“You’ve got flour on your cheek,” she laughs, before moving past me into the house.
“Please, come on in,” I call out as I watch her head toward the kitchen before glancing in the hallway mirror and swipe away the dusting of flour on my cheek.
It’s been six weeks since I moved to Mayridge, and honestly, I’ve adjusted quicker than I expected. Work keeps me busy, and even though I was hesitant to form new relationships here, I’ve found a good friend in Aubrey.
We hang out every Sunday, taking turns baking some kind of sweet treat.
Though, considering she owns her own bakery, she definitely has an unfair advantage.
This week it’s my turn, so keeping it simple, I’ve opted for chocolate chip cookies.
I may or may not have trial-cooked these throughout the week and brought them into work, which Kade and Brandon definitely appreciated.
Making my way back into the kitchen, I watch Aubrey unpack her tote bag, lining everything up on the counter.
“I bought some bits so we can make baguettes for lunch,” she says, “and a multipack of Diet Cokes—you know, to feed your unhealthy soda addiction.” She chuckles as she starts putting things in the fridge.
“I was never allowed soda growing up,” I confess as the oven beeper goes off. “It was water, iced tea, and at meals or functions… wine.”
Aubrey wrinkles her nose. “Well, I’m glad I was here to witness your first real experience. I feel honored.” She grins, placing a hand dramatically over her heart.
I smile, the warmth of her teasing settling something in me. I can see why Ivy and Aubrey clicked in college, both loud, loyal, and a little chaotic in the best way. I bet they were unstoppable.
It hits me quietly, like it always does, a word that still feels like a missed train I was never allowed to board. College.
***
I can hear Ivy’s voice in my head, urging me to be brave as I make my way toward the dining room where I know my parents are.
High school is coming to an end, and it’s finally time to think about my future and what I want to do. College feels like a lifeline, a door to freedom, to new experiences, to finally getting out from under their strict, suffocating rules. I’m excited, nervous… But mostly, hopeful.
In my hand is a crumpled acceptance letter—one I never thought I’d receive because I never applied. Ivy did. She used her address, filled out the forms, and called me squealing the second she opened the envelope.
After a long pep talk, I built up enough courage to face them. But the moment I step into the cold, sterile room, doubt creeps in.
“Yes?” my mother snaps, her glare sharp enough to cut through me.
“I was wondering if I could… uh, if I could—”
“Spit it out, Olivia, for goodness sake,” she cuts in, her voice clipped and cruel.
“Kimberly, come on now,” my father says. Then, turns his attention to me, “Olivia?”
The way he says my name, firm, expectant, but not unkind, makes me straighten up.
My mother rolls her eyes and leans back in her chair, clearly done before I’ve even begun.
“I got this today,” I say, holding out the letter with shaking hands.
My father gestures for me to bring it over. He takes the paper, unfolds it, and begins to read. I watch his face closely, daring to hope as his eyes scan the letter.
“College?” he says at last, not looking at me.
Before I can respond, my mother’s laughter breaks the silence. Sharp and dismissive.
“What on earth do you need college for?” she mocks.
I ignore her. We both know my father’s word is the only one that matters.
His eyes rise slowly to meet mine. I hold my breath. “The answer is no, Olivia.”
The words hit harder than I expected. Still, I find myself asking, “Why not?”
His nostrils flare at the challenge. “Because you don’t need college,” he says coldly. “You have responsibilities here. A family name to uphold. One day you’ll become a wife, a mother. A degree isn’t necessary for that kind of future.”
His voice is final, unmoving. Every ounce of hope I had drains away. Behind him, my mother scoffs, calling me stupid under her breath.
I don’t cry. Not yet. But I want to. I don’t know what I expected. Maybe that, for once, they’d be glad to see the back of me.
Instead, they’re determined to keep me right where they’ve always wanted me: trapped.
***
She’s watching me closely, curiosity in her eyes, like she wants to ask where my mind just went, but doesn’t want to push.
“Sorry, what did you say?” I ask quickly, hoping to gloss over the fact I’d completely spaced out while she was talking.
“I said your sink has a bit of a leak. I’ve put a pot underneath for now, but I can ask Kade to come take a look at some point, if that’s okay.”
I nod, only half-hearing her, still trying to shake off the unsettled feeling my memory left behind and return to the lightness we had just a few minutes earlier.
Thankfully, it doesn’t take long. After lunch—courtesy of the groceries Aubrey brought—we end up on the couch, wrapped in a lazy sort of comfort, trading gossip like it’s currency.
“Sooo… any guys caught your eye since you moved here?” she asks, wiggling her brows with exaggerated interest.
“Really?” I laugh, sinking deeper into the cushions.
“What? I’m curious!”
“Between work and hanging out with you, when would I even have time to think about guys? It’s not exactly high on my list of priorities.” I nudge her playfully. “I’m perfectly happy living my best life in my new hometown with my nosy friend.”
She grins. “What if I set you up on a date? Nothing serious, just to get out, meet new people. Shake things up a little.”
I groan. “I don’t know. I don’t have much experience with guys—actually, no experience. And the ones I knew back home weren’t exactly… great.”
“I wouldn’t set you up with anyone horrible,” she promises. “There are some genuinely nice guys around here, people I went to school with. Just one date. If you hate it, I’ll drop it.”
I hesitate, then admit, “I’ve never been on a date.”
Her eyes widen and she sits up straighter, turning toward me. “Wait—never? Not even once?”
I shake my head. “No. I wasn’t allowed to date. My parents were… strict. Any time I met guys, it was at galas or charity events, super formal, very controlled.”
“Shit,” she breathes. “I didn’t realize. I’m sorry—let’s forget the whole idea. It was dumb.”
“No, it’s not dumb,” I say quickly, nerves fluttering in my stomach. “Maybe it’s not a bad idea. I mean… I’m going to date eventually, right? Why not now?”
Aubrey’s face lights up. “Are you sure? I don’t want to push you into anything.”
“I trust you. Just… make sure he’s a nice guy. And I’m not going home with him. Just a simple date. No pressure.”
She squeals, clapping her hands. “Deal. Low-pressure, no-expectations, 100% Aubrey-approved date. This is going to be so fun!”
I laugh, but there’s a twist of nerves in my chest. A date. An actual date.
I’m not sure if I’m more excited… or terrified. Maybe both.
Aubrey’s still grinning when she leans back against the couch, already scheming. I can practically see the wheels turning in her head, and part of me wants to be nervous. But instead, I just feel… lighter.
I glance around the room, my little rented house courtesy of Aubrey, with its leaky sink and mismatched throw pillows, and realize it’s the first place that’s ever really felt like mine. The first place I’ve been able to breathe without permission.
And maybe going on a date is a small thing. Maybe it’s nothing at all. But for me, it feels like one of those quiet, terrifying, brave firsts. The kind you don’t realize matters until they’re already happening.
I don’t know where it’ll lead. I don’t even know if I’ll like it.
But I’m saying yes.
And for now, that feels like enough.