I feel bile rise in my throat as she rattles on. “I was so annoyed when you didn’t come home for winter break,” she admits, her laugh dismissive. “But now I see what you were up to. Spending time with his family, working your way in. Clever girl.”
I step back instinctively, needing space, but she grabs my arm before I can retreat. Her nails dig in just enough to sting. “I’m serious, Olivia. This is your chance to elevate all of us. Think about what this could mean for the family.”
“Claudia,” my father interjects for the first time, his voice gruff but lacking conviction. Of course he only speaks when the discomfort becomes too obvious to ignore.
But my mother is already spinning her fantasies aloud. “A bigger house—something that matches our new status. And imagine this—when the boys turn sixteen, maybe Nathaniel could buy them fancy cars like that Aston Martin of his.”
“Mom, that’s not…that’s not what this is,” I try, but she barrels on, untouched by reality.
“A billionaire, Olivia! It’s nothing to him!”
I can’t take it anymore. “Please stop,” I beg, my voice cracking.
She pauses, momentarily startled, before her expression softens into something meant to look maternal but feels hollow. “Oh, Olivia, I’m just so proud you’ve finally made something of yourself. You wouldn’t believe the things the neighbors have been saying. All because of that car in the driveway.”
I stare at her, the air knocked out of me. The weight of her words presses down, crushing and suffocating all at once. She hasn’t said a single word about me—about the late nights, the scholarships, or the sheer effort it took to get where I am. All she sees is what Nathaniel can provide.
I wrench my arm free and walk out of the kitchen without another word. My chest feels tight as I cross the threshold into the living room. Nathaniel’s gaze snaps to me immediately, his eyes narrowing as he takes in my expression.
“Hey,” he says softly, closing the distance between us in two steps. His hand comes to rest on my arm, grounding me. “You okay?”
I nod, but it’s weak, unconvincing. His hand slides down to intertwine with mine, squeezing gently. “Baby,” he murmurs, his voice low and steady, “if something’s wrong, you can tell me.”
“I’m fine,” I reply quickly, forcing a smile that I know he doesn’t buy.
His thumb traces slow circles over the back of my hand as he studies me, his protective instincts flaring in the tension of his jaw and the glint in his eyes. “Okay,” he concedes finally, though his tone suggests otherwise. “I’m here.”
And for now, that’s enough.
My mother pulledout all the stops tonight—her finest tablecloth, the silverware that only sees the light of day for Easter or Christmas, and a centerpiece of wilting carnations that she’d probably picked up from the gas station.
It’s all so performative, so painfully obvious, and I can barely sit still.
Nathaniel, of course, doesn’t seem fazed.
He sits across from me, perfectly composed, his posture straight but relaxed, his gaze sweeping the table like a king surveying his court. He hasn’t said much since we sat down, just polite nods and occasional murmurs of thanks.
The twins are chattering away, their voices loud and eager as they recount their afternoon with Nathaniel. They were utterly enchanted by him within minutes of picking up the PlayStation controllers, their usual aloofness dissolving into excitement.
“Mom, you won’t believe it!” Michael exclaims, his face lighting up as he turns to our mother. “Nathaniel has been to the F1 Grand Prix at Silverstone! In England! He’s seen the races live!”
My mother’s expression morphs into one of almost theatrical delight. “Oh, isn’t that wonderful!” she gushes, clasping her hands together. “Nathaniel, you simply must bring the boys along next time. They would love it! Wouldn’t it be a lovely bonding experience with their soon-to-be brother-in-law?”
I freeze, her words cutting through the room like a sharp blade. I steal a glance at Nathaniel, who’s still and composed, though I catch the flicker of irritation in the set of his jaw.
“We’ve been telling Olivia she should really start thinking about the future. You know, marriage, settling down… Don’tyou think you should make things official sooner rather than later?” my mother continues, clearly emboldened by Nathaniel’s silence. “It would be such a wonderful opportunity for the family. Speaking of opportunities,” she adds with sugary sweetness, “it’s so good to know that Olivia has someone like you looking out for her. With your resources, I’m sure you could help ensure the boys get into good colleges. They’ll need all the help they can get in this economy, after all.”
I grip the edge of my chair, my heart pounding as I will her to stop, but she isn’t finished. Even my father, usually quiet in these moments, chimes in awkwardly.
“You know, Nathaniel,” he says, scratching the back of his neck, “we’ve been thinking about upgrades for the diner. New equipment, maybe expanding the kitchen. It’d be great to have a…partner who believes in family businesses.”
The air grows thick, tension radiating from Nathaniel beside me. He hasn’t said a word yet, but I can feel the storm brewing beneath his calm exterior.I wonder if he’s reconsidering everything now. Maybe he’s finally realizing that he deserves someone more suitable…someone who doesn’t come with allthis.
“Of course, Olivia has always been such a practical girl, hasn’t she? She knows what she’s doing, finding herself such a fine man. I mean, it’s not like she’s the prettiest girl in the room, but she’s smart enough to know how to make herself useful.”
Heat rushes to my face as the familiar sting of humiliation clogs my throat. Before I can respond, Nathaniel moves. In a heartbeat, panic spikes—fear that he’s had enough of them, that he’s about to walk away from all of this…fromme.
The sound of his chair scraping against the floor echoes through the room as he rises to his feet. His presence seems to expand, filling the space with an intensity that makes everyone else shrink back.
