Page 125 of The Young & the Sinner

“I’m sorry you had to see him like that after all those years,” Max said.

I gave a careless shrug, as if it wasn’t a big deal. “It is what it is.”

“Olivia, talk to me.”

I looked at him then. “What’s there to talk about?”

“Well, tell me how you really feel about it?”

I looked away, my fists clenched in my lap as I tried to control my anger. “What’s the point? It wouldn’t change anything, would it?”

“No, sweetheart. I’m sorry, but it wouldn’t. But it might make you feel better.”

I looked back at him, no longer able to hide my anger. I stood up and paced around the small room. “It could make me feel better? How? Are you saying I would feel better telling you that I wasn’t worth my parents’ time and affection? That they must have blamed me for ruining their lives, and that’s why they left? That they couldn’t love me, no matter what I did, because if they did, they wouldn’t have left me to begin with. How would saying all that make me feel better? How, Max?”

“Come here, Olive,” Max said softly.

I shook my head. My eyes burned with tears, and I didn’t even realize I was crying until I felt them run down to my cheeks.

“Please,” he whispered, but I couldn’t. Once I went to him, I would break down. I didn’t want to break down.

“I can’t,” I said, backing away a little.

“Yes, you can. Come to me.”

“Why are you doing this? Why are you being cruel?”

“I’m not, kiddo.” He stood up and took a step toward me. I backed away until my back hit the wall.

“I don’t want to.”

Max paused in his steps then and nodded. “Okay. I’ll stand right here until you’re ready.”

“That’s ridiculous. You can’t just stand there.”

“Why not?”

I frowned at the idiotic question.

“Your parents love you.”

I shot him a disgusted look over the blatant lie.

He continued. “No, they do. They just don’t know how to love you correctly, and for that, I’m so sorry. But I love you enough for the both of them, tenfold. And I will always love you. Lean on me. Let me carry some of that burden for you.”

I cried harder.

“Come to me, Olivia.”

Max opened his arms, and without thinking, I ran to him. He caught me and we both fell to the floor.

I sobbed in his chest.

“Shh. It’s okay, sweetheart. I’m here. It’s okay.”

I shook my head, wiping my tears on the sleeves of his shirt. “No, it not.”

“No, it’s not,” Max repeated. “But it will be.”

I nodded in agreement then. Yes, it would be okay. Max was here. And it would always be okay.

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