Page 170 of Accidental Theirs
I chuckle. “I can’t exactly judge, can I?”
“You’re not mad? I feel like Dominic would be foaming at the mouth.”
I laugh. “You’re right. He probably would be. But I’m not Dom. I don’t claim to own you.”
“You don’t?”
I shake my head. “No, not at all. I’ve learned you can’t own anything, not really.”
She tilts her head. “What do you mean by that?”
“I dunno. Friends. Family. Lovers. They all go away in the end, right? Either you split up, have a falling out, someone cheats. Someone betrays you. Or even if you’re happy together, it doesn’t last forever. Nothing does.”
She stares at me, mouth parted. “Damien, that’s the darkest outlook on relationships I’ve ever heard.”
I give her a smile that feels fake even on my own lips. “It’s true, isn’t it?”
“No,” she says harshly, and then again, softer. “No, it’s not true at all. Every person you meet, every path you cross, it’s an experience. It’s what makes up life, all the in-betweens.”
“That’s probably the most optimistic outlook on relationships I’ve ever heard.”
She shrugs, sipping her water. “What can I say? I guessI’m a hopeless romantic. But what about your parents? Weren’t they in love?”
I snort. “Who needs love when you have drugs? That was my parents’ motto, anyway. All they did was scream at each other and nod out.”
Olivia’s eyes widen, and I see what I always hate to see on someone’s face when I talk about my family or lack thereof. Pity.
I turn my eyes away. “Don’t worry about it. Not everyone has a good upbringing. It’s no big deal.”
I head to my office to stop the conversation, but Olivia follows me, closing the door behind her.
“I never knew that you didn’t have parents who took care of you, Damien. Why didn’t you tell me?”
“Why? So you can pity me?” I sit down at my desk and fiddle through paperwork. “Break’s over. I’m busy.”
Olivia puts her hands on my desk, stopping me from picking up a file folder.
“Stop.” Her voice is soft, and it does give me pause.
I look up at her, and her pale green eyes are full of tears.
“Talk to me, Damien.”
My shoulders sink as she sits down in the chair across from my desk.
“I don’t know where to start.”
“Did you have brothers? Sisters?”
“More of them than I could count. Five, maybe six? I can’t remember. We all lost touch when they finally took us and threw us into foster care. For a few years, I kept up with my baby brother, Shawn, but...”
“Damien, that’s so...”
“It is what it is.” I clear my throat. “Was there something else you wanted to talk about?”
She shifts in the chair. “And you never had grandparents or?—”
“I never had anybody.” The words burst from my chest unexpectedly. “I never had anybody love me, Olivia, so if you’re going to tell me shit gets better or that I have support, it’s bullshit. I don’t.”
