Lizzie
Max was avoiding me.
I knew that. I wondered if it had anything to do with Lorenzo’s death, but that didn’t make any sense. I didn’t know how Lorenzo’s death had anything to do with us, but now he was avoiding me, Olivia hadn’t smiled in days, and I had just gotten back from another tense and draining dinner with my parents.
Things were exhausting.
I was exhausted.
Hunter was asleep in his car seat, oblivious to all of this turmoil, which was how it was supposed to be. But sometimes I was afraid he might catch on to my feelings, even if I hid them from him.
That he could see I wasn’t happy, and I didn’t want him to know it. But Hunter was perceptive, and even if he didn’t see all the problems I was dealing with now, there would come a point in time when he was old enough to understand, no matter how badly I wanted to shelter him.
I pulled Olivia’s car into the garage. Aside from work, Olivia hadn’t really gone anywhere, and I was worried she was letting this news of Lorenzo’s death affect her more than she let on.
I was glad the fucker died.
I was glad he was no longer around, but I hated that his family insisted on a formal investigation. They didn’t think he had died from suicide, and they were bringing all the shit from their son right to our doorstep.
I hated the confusion Olivia must be in.
But she had Mason.
There had been a time when she would have come to me for advice and comfort, when she would have told me everything, would have told me how she was feeling. Though I missed the closeness we once had with each other as teenagers, I was glad she had someone like Mason looking out for her.
He had taken a few days off from work to be there for her, and had only returned today, though I wasn’t surprised to see his car parked in the garage at this time.
I turned off the car’s ignition and sat there for a moment, trying to gather my thoughts.
I didn’t really want to go back in the house—not because I felt unwanted, but because I felt envious.
Olivia had what everyone wanted. A doting husband who loved and cherished her very much. I hated that I was even feeling like this toward my friend, but every time Olivia and Mason did that thing where they had conversations with their eyes, or when he would come up with any excuse to touch her, I felt my heart breaking a little bit. I never had that.
Not with Sam, and certainly not with Max.
Letting out a sigh, I climbed out of the car and moved to the back seat, opening the door. Hunter was snoring a bit.
I smiled and moved my fingers through the soft strands of his hair. He’d had a tiring day. But despite the tense conversation with my mom about her obvious disapproval over my career choice, Hunter enjoyed the days when I brought him over to visit his grandparents.
I just wished I hadn’t told her about Cato’s Rapture being in the initial stages of its production. As my mom had said, playwrights were poor people entertaining the rich.
She was probably right about that.
Maybe… maybe it was time to rethink my career choices. It wasn’t just me anymore. Sam would help out financially when it came to raising Hunter, but Sam had given up his parental rights over Hunter.
That was something I hadn’t told anyone.
Not Olivia and not Max.
I supposed it shouldn’t have been so surprising, considering Sam had been in the midst of his residency training at the hospital. He worked long hours and barely had any time to spend with Hunter. They didn’t have the sort of bond I’d had with my dad.
That was probably my biggest regret over my marriage. Not pushing Sam to be there for Hunter more.
I unbuckled Hunter’s seatbelt and lifted him up in my arms. He didn’t even stir, and he was already in his pajamas, having gotten ready for bed at my parents’ house with his uncle, which made it easier for me to carry him up to bed.
Olivia and Mason were in the living room snuggling on the couch and watching a movie when I walked in. A romance movie, from the looks of it. A bowl of popcorn sat neglected on the coffee table. They looked up and smiled at me, and though Olivia’s eyes were still sad, she looked better.
“Hey, you. Have you eaten dinner yet?” she asked me.