Page 14
Story: The Reborn
He held me like that for a long moment and let me cry it out. “Why don’t we go in—What the fuck?”
I looked up to see what had caused the automatic fury in his voice. His body had gone tight and rigid under my hold as he caught sight of my car for the first time.
Slowly, like a snake uncoiling, he drew back to face me. “What the hell happened, Olivia?”
“I don’t know. I woke up and found it like that.” My voice was low and choked.
He walked over and circled my car, taking in the slashed tires, running a hand over his head, the rage evident on his face. He lifted stone-cold eyes my way, but before he could say a word, I lifted my hand with the crumpled note.
“There’s more.”
His gaze dropped to the piece of paper. Without a word, he strode over and plucked it from my palm, straightening it out to read it.
I watched the wheels begin to turn behind his eyes as he worked to interpret the meaning of the words written in bold black print. The same words I would never be able to unsee for the rest of my life.
His expression became a stone mask when he looked at me again, which would’ve been scary if I wasn’t certain my brother would never hurt me. The only tell that he was beyond furious was the tick in his jaw. “Clearly, this isn’t about your babysitter,” he bit out.
“I’m not sure...” Though everything in me knew the truth. I just didn’t want to admit it.
“Olivia.” His tone called bullshit as he glanced down again. “She is mine,” he read aloud before meeting my gaze again. “Elizabeth.”
The weight of his stare was too heavy. I broke eye contact and looked down at my clenched hands. “Yes.”
He growled and spun to face my car again before turning back. “Look at me.”
I lifted tear-filled eyes to his and found a wealth of love and support, which broke me even further.
“I love you. You know that, right?”
I nodded, too shaken to speak.
“And I would do anything to protect you and that little girl in there. Anything.”
I nodded again.
He sucked in a deep breath, composing himself. “I’ve never asked too many questions about your past or Lizzie’s father. Figured it’s your business, and it doesn’t matter.” He shook the paper in the air between us, his expression fierce. “But apparently it does now. So, I’m gonna need you to trust me, sis. Tell me the truth and let me help you.”
“I...” I hesitated, so used to keeping everything inside. There were only three people on earth who knew the truth besides my therapist: me, him, and my mother, whom I’d confided in during a moment of weakness in the throes of labor pain, then swore her to secrecy, though I’d only told her the bare bones of the truth. The whole thing would have been too much. She never understood why I was so ashamed, but she’d honored my wishes.
As I was learning, it was dangerously easy to focus all your energy on even the merest glimmer of light while ignoring the tainted darkness of sin. But I should’ve known that all dark things are brought into the light eventually.
I also knew my brother, inside and out. I knew he’d never betray me or my daughter, and he’d protect us with everything he had. Something I was honestly exhausted from trying to do alone.
So, we sat on my front porch step, and I finally told him the truth—or as much as I dared.
By the time I was done, I found myself in his arms again, exhausted and messy from a good old-fashioned ugly cry. And I guess marriage and fatherhood had softened him, because instead of pulling away from my display of emotion like he might’ve done not that long ago, he leaned into it and consoled me like the rock I needed in that moment.
After a while, he pressed a kiss to the crown of my head. “I’m proud of you, sis.”
I lifted my face toward his, thoroughly confused how, in everything I’d just told him, he could find anything other than a hot mess. “Proud?”
“Yes. I mean, I’ve always been proud as hell of you as a person and as my sister, but now I can see what kind of person you truly are.”
“You mean, one who sleeps with the director of her ballet academy that she just met, gets knocked up, then dumped? That kind of person?” I knew I was leaving out some of the highlights, but he got my drift.
He frowned. “No, and I don’t want to hear you talking about yourself like that. It’s shit and you know it. I mean the kind of person who takes the hits life gives her and still comes out swinging... is still kind, compassionate, one hell of a businesswoman, and the best mother I’ve ever seen next to our own.” He leaned in and wiped away an errant tear from my cheek. “Don’t ever sell yourself short, Olivia. That guy in Italy was an asshole for treating you like you’re disposable, and if he walked away from his child—from my princess—let’s just say, I hope I get to meet him one day so I can show him just what I fucking think about him.”
I stared into my brother’s eyes, trying to absorb his words. Before I could respond, the front door opened, and a tousled Sofia appeared with Elizabeth in her arms.
I looked up to see what had caused the automatic fury in his voice. His body had gone tight and rigid under my hold as he caught sight of my car for the first time.
Slowly, like a snake uncoiling, he drew back to face me. “What the hell happened, Olivia?”
“I don’t know. I woke up and found it like that.” My voice was low and choked.
He walked over and circled my car, taking in the slashed tires, running a hand over his head, the rage evident on his face. He lifted stone-cold eyes my way, but before he could say a word, I lifted my hand with the crumpled note.
“There’s more.”
His gaze dropped to the piece of paper. Without a word, he strode over and plucked it from my palm, straightening it out to read it.
I watched the wheels begin to turn behind his eyes as he worked to interpret the meaning of the words written in bold black print. The same words I would never be able to unsee for the rest of my life.
His expression became a stone mask when he looked at me again, which would’ve been scary if I wasn’t certain my brother would never hurt me. The only tell that he was beyond furious was the tick in his jaw. “Clearly, this isn’t about your babysitter,” he bit out.
“I’m not sure...” Though everything in me knew the truth. I just didn’t want to admit it.
“Olivia.” His tone called bullshit as he glanced down again. “She is mine,” he read aloud before meeting my gaze again. “Elizabeth.”
The weight of his stare was too heavy. I broke eye contact and looked down at my clenched hands. “Yes.”
He growled and spun to face my car again before turning back. “Look at me.”
I lifted tear-filled eyes to his and found a wealth of love and support, which broke me even further.
“I love you. You know that, right?”
I nodded, too shaken to speak.
“And I would do anything to protect you and that little girl in there. Anything.”
I nodded again.
He sucked in a deep breath, composing himself. “I’ve never asked too many questions about your past or Lizzie’s father. Figured it’s your business, and it doesn’t matter.” He shook the paper in the air between us, his expression fierce. “But apparently it does now. So, I’m gonna need you to trust me, sis. Tell me the truth and let me help you.”
“I...” I hesitated, so used to keeping everything inside. There were only three people on earth who knew the truth besides my therapist: me, him, and my mother, whom I’d confided in during a moment of weakness in the throes of labor pain, then swore her to secrecy, though I’d only told her the bare bones of the truth. The whole thing would have been too much. She never understood why I was so ashamed, but she’d honored my wishes.
As I was learning, it was dangerously easy to focus all your energy on even the merest glimmer of light while ignoring the tainted darkness of sin. But I should’ve known that all dark things are brought into the light eventually.
I also knew my brother, inside and out. I knew he’d never betray me or my daughter, and he’d protect us with everything he had. Something I was honestly exhausted from trying to do alone.
So, we sat on my front porch step, and I finally told him the truth—or as much as I dared.
By the time I was done, I found myself in his arms again, exhausted and messy from a good old-fashioned ugly cry. And I guess marriage and fatherhood had softened him, because instead of pulling away from my display of emotion like he might’ve done not that long ago, he leaned into it and consoled me like the rock I needed in that moment.
After a while, he pressed a kiss to the crown of my head. “I’m proud of you, sis.”
I lifted my face toward his, thoroughly confused how, in everything I’d just told him, he could find anything other than a hot mess. “Proud?”
“Yes. I mean, I’ve always been proud as hell of you as a person and as my sister, but now I can see what kind of person you truly are.”
“You mean, one who sleeps with the director of her ballet academy that she just met, gets knocked up, then dumped? That kind of person?” I knew I was leaving out some of the highlights, but he got my drift.
He frowned. “No, and I don’t want to hear you talking about yourself like that. It’s shit and you know it. I mean the kind of person who takes the hits life gives her and still comes out swinging... is still kind, compassionate, one hell of a businesswoman, and the best mother I’ve ever seen next to our own.” He leaned in and wiped away an errant tear from my cheek. “Don’t ever sell yourself short, Olivia. That guy in Italy was an asshole for treating you like you’re disposable, and if he walked away from his child—from my princess—let’s just say, I hope I get to meet him one day so I can show him just what I fucking think about him.”
I stared into my brother’s eyes, trying to absorb his words. Before I could respond, the front door opened, and a tousled Sofia appeared with Elizabeth in her arms.
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