Maxwell’s POV
The question was quiet. So much calr than I’d expected, and sohow that made it worse.
An explanation. That’s what she wanted.
"I’m so sorry, Olivia," I said, and my voice ca out rough, broken. "I just couldn’t bring myself to tell you. I know I had countless opportunities to say the truth, but I was so worried you’d hate . I was terrified that if you knew..."
"My mories," she interrupted, and ice flooded my veins. "When were you going to tell about my mories?"
Everything stopped.
My heart. My breath. Ti itself.
"What?" The word barely made it past my lips.
"At my parents’ house," Olivia continued, her voice still that terrible, controlled calm, "I asked how you knew from the past. You said you were Kennedy’s friend. That you didn’t know that well. That we’d only passed each other a few tis in the hall."
Oh God.
Oh God, no.
"Olivia," I breathed. "You rembered..."
Her eyes hardened.
"You kept the truth away from ," she said, each word precise as a scalpel. "Didn’t let live my life in peace. Still searched everywhere for so you could destroy further and get pregnant. What did I ever do to you, Maxwell? Why did you do all of that?"
The question hung in the air like an accusation and a plea all at once.
And I had only one answer. The only truth that had ever mattered.
"Because I love you, Olivia."
She flinched like I’d struck her.
"Stop." Her voice cracked on the word. "That isn’t love. It isn’t anything close to love."
"Olivia..."
"You hated first," she continued, and now the emotion was bleeding through, raw and painful. "You said hurtful things to . Treated like an enemy. And yes, I know I’m not innocent either - I said terrible things too, did terrible things - but everything I did was payback for what you did to first. Yet you kept coming closer. Kept pushing. Kept manipulating."
She sat up slightly, wincing as she moved, and looked at with eyes that saw right through every excuse I could make.
"Seriously, what was your plan?" she asked. "That after everything - after all the lies and the gas and the cruelty - we’d just end up happily together? Like this was all so romantic cody where the guy who’s been tornting the girl suddenly reveals he loved her all along and that makes everything okay?"
"No, I..."
"That’s never going to happen, Maxwell."
The finality in her voice was like a door slamming shut.
"Please," I said, and I heard the desperation in my own voice, felt it clawing at my chest. "Please, just let explain. I’m sorry. God, Olivia, I’m so sorry. I haven’t enjoyed doing any of those things to you. I swear I haven’t."
"Then why did you do them?" she demanded.
"Because I was driven by childhood rage," I admitted, the words spilling out now like a dam had broken. "By seeing you with Alex. By watching you go on that date with Gabriel. I hated seeing you look at my friends the way I wanted you to look at . I hated that you smiled for them when you glared at . I hated that they got your laughter and your joy while I got your anger."
I leaned forward, my hands gripping the arms of the chair so hard my knuckles went white.
"I know I used the wrong approach," I continued. "I know I hurt you when I should have been honest from the start. But I was scared and stupid and I didn’t know how to bridge the gap between who you thought I was and who I wanted to be for you. So I made it worse. I kept making it worse, and I’m sorry. I’m so, so sorry."
Olivia stared at for a long mont.
Then she turned her face away, toward the wall, and pulled the blanket up over her shoulders.
"Leave," she said quietly. "I don’t want to see your face anymore."
"Olivia, please..."
"Leave, Maxwell."
Panic seized . I dropped to my knees beside the bed, my hands hovering near her but not touching, not daring to touch without permission.
"Please don’t shut out," I begged. "I know I don’t deserve your forgiveness. I know I’ve done everything wrong. But please, just talk to . Yell at . Scream at . Hit if you want. Anything but this silence."
She said nothing.
"Olivia." My voice cracked. "Say sothing. Please. Anything."
Nothing.
She just lay there, her back to , the blanket pulled up like a shield, and she didn’t say a word.
And that silence - that terrible, deafening silence - scared more than anything else had in my entire life.
Because anger ant she cared. Anger ant she was hurt because I mattered enough to hurt her. Anger I could work with. Anger I could weather.
But this?
This calm, this quiet, this complete emotional shutdown?
This ant I’d broken sothing that might not be fixable.
This ant I was losing her.
I knelt there for what felt like hours, my forehead nearly touching the edge of the bed, begging her to say sothing, anything.
But she remained silent.
Eventually, my knees started to ache. My whole body felt heavy with exhaustion and despair.
I forced myself to stand, even though every instinct scread at to stay, to keep trying, to not give up.
"I’ll co check on you again," I said quietly, though even as the words left my mouth, I knew I’d be staying at this hospital. Camping out in the parking lot if I had to. Because I didn’t trust that she wouldn’t try to run the mont I left. Didn’t trust that she wouldn’t disappear from my life completely.
I made it to the door. Put my hand on the handle.
"Maxwell."
Her voice stopped cold.
Hope flared in my chest - bright and desperate and painful.
I turned, already moving back toward the bed.
But Olivia didn’t turn to face . Just kept staring at the wall, her voice flat and emotionless when she spoke.
"I don’t want to have anything to do with you again," she said. "And I don’t want anything tying to you."
A pause that felt like the world ending.
"So the baby will have to go."
The words hit like a physical blow.
My legs gave out.
I crumpled to the floor, my knees hitting the linoleum hard enough to hurt, my hands catching myself before I collapsed completely.
"No." The word ca out as barely a whisper. "Olivia, no. Please."
She didn’t respond. Didn’t even acknowledge that I’d fallen.
"Please don’t do this," I begged, my voice breaking completely now, all pretense of composure shattered. "Please. I know you hate . I know you never want to see again. I’ll stay away. I’ll give you space. I’ll do whatever you want. But please, please don’t..."
My throat closed up. I couldn’t even say the word.
"That baby is innocent," I managed to choke out. "Whatever I’ve done, whatever mistakes I’ve made, the baby didn’t do anything wrong. Please, Olivia. I’m begging you. Don’t punish the baby for my sins."
Still nothing.
Just silence.
I stayed there on the floor, broken and desperate, waiting for her to say sothing. To take it back. To tell she was just angry and didn’t an it.
But she said nothing.
And in that silence, I felt everything I’d been fighting for, everything I’d hoped for, everything I’d dread about for twenty years, turn to ash.
I’d finally found her again after all these years.
I’d gotten her pregnant with a child I already loved more than life itself.
I’d had a chance - one single chance - to make everything right.
And I’d destroyed it all.
I knelt there on that cold hospital floor, my entire world crumbling around , and for the first ti since I was twelve years old, I felt completely and utterly helpless.
Just like that day behind the library when those bullies had beaten down and I’d thought I was going to die alone and worthless.
But this ti, there was no eight-year-old girl with pepper spray coming to save .
This ti, the girl who’d once promised to protect was the one walking away.
And I had no one to bla but myself.
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