Chapter 49
Olivia
Ilocked the door, just like I promised Kade, and set about my day.
With him gone, I filled the quiet with all the mundane tasks I’d been putting off.
Laundry washed and folded, kitchen cupboards cleaned and reorganized until every plate and glass felt perfectly in place.
I even remembered to stop long enough to eat lunch, though it felt more like another box to tick than an actual meal.
For the first time all day, I let myself stop. The house is still, sunlight spilling through the windows in soft golden streaks, and with nothing left to keep me busy, my mind drifts where it’s been wanting to go all along.
Back to Kade.
Back to Blue Hollow Lake.
The memory unfurls slowly, like slipping into warm water—the way the sunlight caught the water, the sound of Kade’s laughter, the way he looked at me like I was the only thing in the world that mattered. I smile, my heart tightening in the best possible way.
He showed me another piece of himself, something personal, something he treasures. A place stitched into the fabric of who he is. And the fact that he shared it with me sends butterflies fluttering wildly in my stomach.
I think back to my own childhood and try—really try—to remember a time, no matter how small, when my family shared something even remotely like what Kade and his family have. But I already know I won’t find it. There’s nothing there. Just cold, empty spaces.
It saddens me, in a quiet but permanent way, to know without a shadow of a doubt that my parents never truly cared about me.
Having Ivy in my life back then saved me in ways I don’t think I fully understood at the time, but it also forced me to see what I was missing.
It opened my eyes to the fact that not every family was like mine.
I remember the first time I noticed the difference; Ivy’s mother would always hug her tightly and tell her to be safe whenever we ran off to play in the field behind our houses.
I remember thinking how strange that was—how unnecessary.
But as time passed, I started noticing other things.
Ivy’s parents told her they loved her. They praised her.
They showed affection in simple, everyday ways I couldn’t begin to comprehend.
It was the first time I ever felt real jealousy. The first time I let myself wish for something more.
But I managed through it. I told myself I could handle the life I was given. Being ignored. Being used as nothing more than a pawn for appearances. I could survive it.
Until they promised me to Caleb.
Until they knew exactly what he was and still handed me over anyway.
That was the hardest pill to swallow. The moment something inside me fractured too deep to ever fully mend. But I accepted it.
They let me down in a way I’m not sure I’ll ever be able to get over.
I close my eyes, leaning my head back against the couch as the memory stirs, sudden and sharp around the edges, pulling me under.
***
My hand shook so badly I could barely turn the doorknob.
I shouldn’t be here. I knew that. But the bruises on my arms still throbbed, still glowed an ugly purple color beneath the thin sleeves of my sweater, and the panic inside me wouldn’t let me sit still any longer.
I pushed the door open.
They both looked up, my mother perched on the edge of the couch, my father behind his massive desk, pen still in hand. Neither of them looking pleased to see me either.
“I need to talk to you,” I said, but the words came out thin and breathless, barely more than a whisper.
My mother gave a cold, humorless laugh. “I thought we raised you to knock.”
The sharpness of her voice cut straight through me, but I forced myself forward. “Please. I—I need you to stop this. I can’t marry him. I can’t.”
For a second, neither of them spoke.
Then my father’s eyes dropped to my arms. To the bruises I hadn’t bothered to hide this time. His jaw tightened. Something flickered across his face, something almost human. But it was gone as fast as it appeared.
My mother’s gaze followed his, and her lips twisted. She actually smiled. “Honestly, Olivia. If you didn’t provoke him, things like that wouldn’t happen.”
The floor seemed to tilt under my feet. “I didn’t—” My voice cracked. “He hurts me. You can’t let this happen. Please.”
“Enough.” My father’s voice was flat, devoid of anything resembling care. He stood, smoothing his sleeve with deliberate precision, as if my outburst was nothing more than an inconvenience. “You’ll marry Caleb. That’s final.”
I couldn’t breathe. My heart pounded so hard it felt like it might shatter my ribs.
“Father,” I whispered. My throat burned. “Please. Please. I’m begging you.”
For half a second, I thought he might change his mind. His eyes softened. He hesitated. But then, he looked away, shaking his head.
“If you’d just learn to behave,” he said quietly, almost gently, “things like this wouldn’t happen.”
The words hit harder than any slap. Harder than the bruises. I couldn’t even move.
My mother stood, smoothing invisible wrinkles from her skirt, already finished with me, already somewhere else entirely.
They were never going to save me. I was alone. I had always been alone, fighting a battle I could never win, with no one willing to stand at my side.
***
The memory fades, but its weight lingers, pressing heavily on my chest. I blink back to the present and brush away a stray tear that slips down my cheek.
A desperate need for closure twists inside me, and without thinking, I pull out my phone and dial my parents’ home number.
My hand trembles as I hold the phone to my ear, the ringing sounding sharper, louder than usual. It’s the first time in months I’ve reached out to them and nerves swirl just beneath the surface, threatening to spill over.
The ringing stops, replaced by the familiar yet distant voice of their answering machine.
“You have reached the Cavendish residence. Please leave your message, and when we are available, we will return your call.”
I close my eyes, hesitating for the briefest moment as the beep sounds in my ear, urging me to speak.
Slowly, I open my eyes and draw in a shaky breath.
“Mother. Father. It’s Olivia.” My voice cracks on my own name.
I swallow hard and press on.
“I want you to know that I’m happy. I couldn’t be the woman you wanted me to be. I couldn’t marry someone so cruel. I would never have survived it.”
The words spill out, soft but steady.
“I have a job now. A small house. I’ve met someone who loves me—someone kind. He would never hurt me. Not like—” I stop, gathering myself before continuing.
“You both let me down in more ways than I can count. I didn’t ask to be born, but I carried the weight of our name for as long as I could. I did everything you asked—behaved, performed, played the part—but it was never enough.”
My voice wavers, the old hurt rising, sharp and unforgiving.
“I came to you when Caleb started hurting me. I begged you to stop it. And you ignored me. You blamed me. You left me with no choice but to run—and I will never, not for a single second, regret that decision.”
I pause, steadying the shake in my breath as I search for the right ending.
“I am safe. I am happy. And I am loved—in the town I chose, on my own terms. I hope you can live with the choices you made. I know I can live with mine.”
I end the call, and for a moment, I just sit there, the phone still in my hand, as I replay the moment in my mind.
And then—relief.
A slow, steady breath escapes as the weight I’ve carried my entire life lifts from my shoulders, lighter than I ever thought it could feel.
I’m free.
And life has never felt so good.