Chapter 97
OLIVIA’S POV
C
C
“My baby… is this really you?” Her voice was soft, almost trembling, as she stepped closer to me, her right hand gently reaching up to touch my cheek.
I nodded, barely able to keep my own emotions in check. Even though it was the first time I was meeting this woman–my biological mother–it didn’t feel like a first meeting. There was something in her touch, in the way she looked at me, that stirred something deep inside my chest. A connection. Something unspoken but powerful.
She cupped my face, her thumb brushing against my skin like she was trying to memorize every inch of it. Then, without warning, she pulled me into a tight hug. Her arms wrapped around me so tightly I could barely breathe, but I didn’t care. I didn’t want to move. I didn’t want to let go.
“I’m so sorry,” she whispered, her voice breaking. “I’m so sorry for leaving you alone all these years…”
Her words cracked something open in me, something raw that I’d buried for a long time. I didn’t even realize I was crying until I felt my own tears soak into her shoulder.
“It’s not your fault,” I murmured, my voice muffled against her. “It was just a small accident…”
She pulled back only slightly, her hands still on my arms, and rested her forehead against mine. Her eyes fluttered shut as if she needed that moment–needed it to be real. And strangely, I did too. I’d imagined this kind of moment my whole life, not even knowing it. I thought I didn’t need a mother. I thought I’d outgrown that dream. But here I was, melting in her presence like I was a little girl again, finally being seen, finally being held.
Then I felt another arm wrap around me–s
-strong, warm, familiar. Julian.
His arms closed around the both of us, holding us together like the missing piece in the puzzle that had finally been found.
“I’m sorry too,” he said, his deep voice steady but heavy with emotion. “I’m sorry for leaving you alone… and for causing you so much pain, Mom.”
We stood there, the three of us, with our foreheads pressed together. A moment suspended in time, wrapped in silence and tears and warmth.
Eventually, Julian stepped away to grab a napkin. He returned and handed it gently to our mom, who dabbed at her cheeks, laughing softly at herself as she wiped her tears.
“Look at me,” she said with a watery chuckle. “A mess already, and we haven’t even sat down.”
Without letting go of my hand, she led me to a nearby couch, tugging me to sit beside her like she wasn’t going to let me out of her sight again. She held my hand tightly, as if afraid I might disappear.
“There’s so much to talk about,” she said, her voice lighting up with excitement. “Your father–oh God, he’s going to freak out when he hears this. He’s going to be so happy.”
She looked at me like she was trying to fill in all the gaps at once. “He never stopped looking for you, Olivia. We… we thought we lost you forever.”
The lump in my throat made it hard to speak, so I just smiled and nodded, hoping it would say everything I couldn’t.
It felt… surreal. To have someone care this much. To be wanted. To be loved without conditions.
I glanced at Julian, studying his features for a moment. Strong jawline, kind eyes. I wondered what our father looked like. Was he just as tall? Did he have Julian’s smile? Was there a resemblance between them?
Wow… so I have a sibling now. A big brother, to be precise. The realization still felt weird, yet strangely comforting. Maybe that explained why I never once saw Julian in a romantic way, despite how close we’d gotten. It was like something inside me always knew–always recognized him in a way deeper than attraction. Blood, it seemed, had a language of its own.
And as for him… I could only hope he never saw me in that way either. That would definitely be weird. But the way he looked at me now–with protective warmth and the pride of an older brother–gave me all the reassurance I needed.
“We’re going to talk about everything,” my mom’s soft but excited voice pulled me out of my thoughts. Her eyes sparkled with curiosity and a tinge of sadness. “Everything that has happened, Everything I’ve missed over all these years.”
Before I could even respond, she began throwing questions at me like she’d been holding them in for decades. “Your adoptive parents–do you have any? Are you married? Do I have grandkids yet?”
I blinked, trying to keep up.
“Mom, relax,” Julian said from where he sat on the arm of the couch, smiling gently. “One question at a time.”
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11:35 AM
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Chapter 97
“It’s fine,” I assured him, then turned to face her. My biological mother. Still such a strange thing to say, but it no longer felt distant. “I do have adoptive parents. They raised me since I was little until now. I am married… and no, I don’t have any kids yet.”
Her eyes lit up at the mention of my marriage. “You’re married? Oh, we have so much to talk about. And your adoptive parents–I need to meet them. I want to thank them for raising you so well. You turned out strong, kind, graceful. They must have loved you a lot. I can tell.”
And just like that, the warmth in the room dimmed.
An awkward silence slowly crept in, blanketing us. My smile faltered, and I lowered my gaze. Did she just say “love and care?” Those words never existed in my adoptive parents‘ vocabulary–not when it came to me.
Julian noticed the shift instantly. “That’s… not really a good idea, Mom,” he said gently but firmly.
She looked confused, her brow furrowed as she glanced between us. “Why not? Is something wrong? Are they… are they still alive?”
“They’re very much alive,” Julian answered, his tone neutral but guarded.
“So why can’t I meet them?” she asked again, her voice tinged with concern.
I took a deep breath, trying to maintain my composure. The memories were still fresh, even though I wished they weren’t. “Because…. there’s really nothing to thank them for,” I said quietly.
Her confusion deepened. “I don’t understand. They raised you, didn’t they? They gave you a home?”
I nodded slowly. “They did. A roof, yes. But not love. Not care. They provided the bare minimum, but emotionally?” I gave a sad smile. “Let’s just say I would’ve been better off without them than having them as adoptive parents.”
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AD
