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Salvation; olivia/natalia
Topic Started: Sep 26 2009, 04:33 PM (429 Views)
Carly
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Chapter 1.

Natalia


“So, let me get this straight. You had an argument?” The policeman asks you. He seems disinterested. You hate him for that. Your world is falling apart, and he doesn’t even care.

“No.” You answer quickly. “I mean yes…”

Be careful what you wish for, Natalia

“I see.” He nods, writing something down on his paper.

“We always …It’s how….” You stumble, trying to find the words.

“So you argued a lot, with your room m ate?” He prompts you.

I’m so sick of this, you make me sick Olivia.

“She’s not my room mate.” You tell him quickly. Not just my room mate, is what you mean. Why had you waited until Olivia was gone to be able to realise it “We didn’t argue.” You finished.

“You just said…..” he begins.

“No.” You shake your head, realising you sound crazy. “It’s just the way we are. We were just talking.”

You are the most selfish person I’ve ever known, Olivia.

Sure, there were arguments, yelling, insults, deep wounds even. But it was the way you communicated. It didn’t mean you didn’t care. Didn’t mean Olivia had taken off just like that, without goodbye, without a second thought for her daughter. Something had happened to her. You knew it. The police didn’t believe you.

“She wouldn’t leave her daughter like this.” You protest. Surely that will make them understand.

You call yourself a mother, Olivia?

Your anger burns against Olivia in that moment. Intense unrelenting anger. How could she do this to you? To Emma? You hate yourself for being angry at her. You wished you could take back the final words you said to her, the way you had turned your back. And walked away. Hearing her voice breaking behind you…Natalia, please, Don’t..

You allow yourself, for a moment, to hear what the police officer is trying to make you believe. That Olivia had just run away. Childishly, cowardly , taken the easy way out. Life was too much, too complicated. She was somehow trying to punish you. That she was sitting somewhere laughing at you. ‘You’re so stupid. Look at you, wasting the time of the police like this. Wasting everybody’s time. Grow up Natalia.’

Unconsciously your hand reaches into your pocket. Your fingers grasp the letter that’s been burning against your flesh. The letter Olivia left behind. You couldn’t show it to the police. They already doubted you.

You didn’t believe Olivia wrote it. Well, ok, maybe she wrote it. She said crazy things sometimes. Things she didn’t mean. You didn’t believe she meant it.

It didn’t mean what they would all think it meant. Something happened to Olivia yes. But not that. She would never take her own life, leave her daughter.

Go on then, just die already Olivia. Because I’m done.

Even as you try to assure yourself that the notion of Olivia committing suicide is inconceivable, something makes your heart stop for a moment. You think back to those days when Olivia had been so depressed, so consumed with guilt over Gus, wanting badly to end her life. She wanted peace. You didn’t fault her for that. It was the way she went about it. Believing that ending her own life would bring it. She never gave a thought to those she would leave behind, Ava, Emma, you. You saw her pain. More than that, you felt it. More intensely than anyone’s. Ever. You wanted to help her, wanted her to live, to find hope, to find peace. But it didn’t stop you being angry at her for wanting to throw away the most precious gift God gave, life.

You’d never seen eye to eye about things like God, forgiveness, life, death. But you believed somehow that you could show her that she was worth something. That life was worth fighting for. The Olivia you knew now was not the same person who had ordered you to leave her alone and let her die. She had changed. You keep telling yourself over and over that the letter isn’t real. Olivia would never do this. Not now.

Rafe pulls you from your thoughts. “Emma is asking for you.” He tells you.

The officer looks to the ground, uncomfortably. “That’s actually why I am here.” The officer states nervously. He puts away his notebook, and you realise that he doesn’t care abut Olivia one bit. Your own words come back to haunt you.

“Why on earth would I care about you? Why would anyone when you treat people the way you do?”

“I’ve come to take the child to her grandfather.” He finishes.

“What?” You feel like you can’t breathe. Like you can’t stand. This entire week has been a nightmare, and you’ve done your best to be strong. The argument with Olivia, her disappearing without a trace, finding her suicide note, and now they want to take Emma from you?

“Her mother isn’t here to care for her, she has other family that will take her in.” The officer explains.

“I am her family.” You tell him plainly. “I’ve always taken care of her, when Olivia was sick. This is her home.” I am her mother. I am her other mother. Ask Emma, she’ll tell you. This is her home. I am her mother. You want to say it, but the words get stuck in your throat.

You think you’re so much better than me Natalia? You’re a hypocrite. The worst kind because you wont even admit the truth to yourself.

You feel Rafe behind you. He puts his hand on your shoulder. You turn on him, because he is here. Because the person you want to turn on isn’t here. You fling his hand away from your shoulder.

“Why are you just standing there?! Rafe, tell them, We are Emma’s family. She is your little sister.”

You’re uncomfortable with all this anger. At Olivia, at Rafe, at this officer who is just doing his job. At yourself. But it’s all you have to hold onto right now. You need it.

You push Rafe aside. You don’t need him. You don’t need Olivia. You will keep Emma safe. You love Emma like your own. You’d fight to the death to protect her, keep her safe. Not like Olivia, running away, abandoning her. Emma deserves so much better than that. And you will make sure she gets it.

”Now you listen to me …” You demand. The officer looks surprised that this meek well mannered lady is speaking to him in such a threatening tone.

You’re relieved when the officer interrupts you, because you don’t have any idea where to find the words.

“Maam. I don’t doubt you love the child. But we have to think about what’s best for the child, and what’s best for the child is to be with her family.”

You’re confused for a moment, because you agree with him. Emma needs her family. You are her family. She needs you. But you eventually realise that’s not what he means at all.

“The child…” You begin slowly “…has a name. And what’s best for Emma, is to stay in. her. home. with the people that love her!” You’re tell him forcefully.

You won’t let him take Emma from you. You will love her and raise her and make sure she never grows up to be like Olivia. Emma won’t take the easy way out, running away without a second thought for the people she leaves behind. Emma won’t be so self obsessed and self destructive, throwing away her life as if it’s worthless. Emma won’t spend her life hurting the people who love her and in turn hurting herself most of all. Emma will be nothing like that. You’ll make sure of it.

“Mom, Calm down, this won’t help Emma.” Rafe does his best to placate you.

“I don’t make the law.” The police officer tells you helplessly. And for a moment you think he might be on your side. “I just enforce it. Make this easy for the child, go upstairs and bring her down.”

You hate this man in front of you. He is still calling Emma ‘the child’, He is still standing there telling you that you’re not her family, he is still demanding that you give her away just like that. And your own son is standing there with him, telling you to go along with this.

No.

You can’t.

You won’t.

The one thing Olivia left you with, was Emma

The one thing you hold that makes you believe you might survive this, Emma

The one thing Olivia asked of you in her letter “Take Care of Emma.”

Reality finally crushes you.

You can’t help Olivia now, you never could.

You can’t help Emma.

You’re powerless.

And it’s not your fault. Olivia did this, caused all of this. Gave up, walked away, didn’t care that she was tearing her own family apart. You’ve lost Olivia. Forever. She’s not yours. She never was. Emma’s not yours. There is nothing you can do.

You hate yourself, because you couldn’t save Olivia.

But you hate Olivia more, because she wouldn’t let you.
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Chapter 2

Olivia


You’re trapped in a dark place inside your imagination. So dark you can’t even see your fingers in front of your face. You’re cold. Afraid. Alone. You’re falling. You want to reach out for the one thing that makes you feel safe. For her. Deep inside your head you scream.

You’re screaming.

You know she can’t hear you

But you’re still screaming


The piercing sound you make hurts your eardrums. But it still hurts less than silence. So you keep screaming. You’re trapped. Brick walls on every side. You bang your fist against them, wondering if she can hear you.

You’re hoping.

You know hope is futile

But you’re still hoping.


You wonder if she is on the other side of those walls, listening to you scream? Wonder if she is sitting there with her fingers in her ears so that she doesn’t have to hear you? Wonder if she has run away, forgotten there is even is a cold dark room, forgotten that you even exist? You slump to the ground, defeated.

You’re crying

You know crying won’t help

But you’re still crying.


You tell yourself ‘it’s too late’. That even if she came to you now begging forgiveness it would be too late. You’d turn her away. Tell her she missed her chance. But you know it isn’t true. All she has to do is be here, and you’d go running into her arms. You hate the both of you for that.

You’re believing.

You know there is nothing to believe in

But you’re still believing.


Finally you bring yourself to call her name.

“Natalia.” You hear the name in a small weak voice that you can’t believe is your own.

You hear laughter in response.

But it’s not hers.

You open your eyes.

Reality hits you hard.

“No Olivia, Not Natalia.” He tells you.

You back away from him instinctively. Unconsciously your hand reaches towards the throbbing pain in your head. You’re bleeding.

“Don’t worry Olivia.” He says, mocking you. “She won’t ever find you. She isn’t even looking.”

You don’t want to believe him. But you realise he speaks the truth.

Natalia can’t help you now. So you wait. Wait for death. Wait to wake up and find this is all a nightmare. Wait for her. That’s what you’re truly waiting for.

And so you’re waiting.

You know she isn’t coming

But you’re still waiting.
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Chapter 3

Natalia

~Loving you is not a choice, It’s who I am.

(Stephen Sondheim)


You do as the officer tells you and climb the stairs to fetch Emma. Slowly. Each step you take you force yourself to try and think, what would Olivia have done? Olivia wouldn’t stand by and let Emma be taken like this. You hated her all over again for leaving you like this. Leaving Emma. Didn’t she know how much you needed her? You despised her in that moment, and yet you prayed desperately that she would miraculously appear.

You’d been so foolish. How had you let this happen? Last month you had everything you ever wanted. And you’d taken it all for granted. Your home, your family. A week ago you had Frank. The promise of a new life, a new family, a future. But you weren’t leaving Olivia and Emma behind. They would still be part of your life. It just seemed like it was the right thing to do. But you had messed everything up so completely, for Olivia and Emma, for Frank, for every last one of you.

Emma had cried when she had realised you wouldn’t be living with her and Olivia anymore.

“What’s wrong Emma?” You asked

“I don’t want you to marry Frank.” She said.

Olivia interrupted “Honey, we talked about this. We want Natalia to be happy.”

“Why can’t she be happy with us?” Emma asked Olivia.

Olivia looked to you, her eyes silently asking the same question ‘ Well, Why can’t you be happy with us, Natalia?’


You wonder if this whole mess is God’s way of punishing you for hurting so many people. You didn’t love Frank. Not the way he loved you. You had been lying to him, lying to yourself. And now he is gone too. You’d tried to explain, to apologise. You never truly loved him. You tried hard to make it work, believing it was the right thing. Of course Frank had run. You don’t blame him for it. Or perhaps you just don’t care so much that he is gone. But Olivia, that’s another story. You hate her for leaving you like this, for leaving Emma.

Olivia is gone, Frank is gone, Emma is going. Panic fills you. You still have Rafe. Rafe needs you, you’ll get through this. And right now Emma needs you to be strong.

You find Emma quietly sitting on her bed, intently focused on something she was writing. Gone was the happy energetic kid you’d known. She was taking Olivia’s disappearance hard.

“What are you doing?” You ask as you sit beside her.

“Writing a letter to mommy.” She answers.

You try not to cry. Try to make it sound like things are going to be ok. You are lying to her, and she knows it.

“Emma, your Grandpa thought it would be fun if you stay with him for a little while.”

She shakes her head. “I don’t want to go.” She tells you calmly. Your realise she has complete faith in you. She trusts you that you won’t force her to go if she doesn’t want to. You stop for a moment, watching her. Waiting just a moment before you shatter that innocent trust forever.

“Your grandpa would really like to spend some time with you. It would be kinda like a holiday.” You try to make it sound like fun. You know she won’t buy it.

She places her pen and paper down gently, and looks you in the eye. “You don’t want me to stay here with you?” She asks, looking suddenly so much older and wiser than her years.

“Of course I do Emma.” Your breath catches in your throat.

“Ok then.” She smiles at you, and turns back to her letter.

How could you tell her it was out of your hands? That you couldn’t protect her or keep her safe? That all your promises to her were meaningless? That she’d already lost Olivia and now she had to leave her home?

“Emma.” She won’t look at you anymore. She hears the fear in your voice. “I have to go away for a little while. To help your mom with something.”

“Can I come?” She asks without meeting your gaze.

“Not this time sweetheart.” You reach forward to stroke her hair, she pulls away from you.

“Mommy isn’t coming back, is she?”

“Of course she is.” You answer, but the words sounded false even to your own ears.

“You’re not coming back either.” Emma adds.

Your heart breaks for this little girl. The people in her life are vanishing one by one without reason. She can’t understand it and you are powerless to explain it.

“She didn’t say goodbye to me.” Emma says so softly you almost don’t hear her.

‘She didn’t say goodbye to me either.’ You think, and then you remember the letter she left behind. “That’s because she is coming home really soon.” You assure Emma, without stopping to wonder if it was right to build up her hope like that?

“When can I come home?” She asks.

“Soon.” You answer. Another lie.

“I don’t want to go, don’t make me mommy.” Her voice trembles as she pleads with you, and tears spill from her desperate eyes.

You can’t get used to her calling you ‘Mommy’. She never did it in front of Olivia. You felt like you should tell her not to call you that. Especially after you had become engaged to Frank, you were moving on with your life. But on some level you wanted to believe in this family that Emma believed in. You, Olivia, Emma. The farmhouse, the family, Emma and her ‘two mommies’. You wanted to believe in it badly. You wanted to live it. It was the reason you had finally broken the engagement with Frank. But it was too late. You realised finally that you were living that life, that family. It wasn’t just a child’s fantasy. It was right there in your hands. It was yours. And you let it slip through your fingertips.

You can’t bring yourself to answer Emma. And in the end you don’t have to. Rafe does it for you.

“Emma.” Rafe interrupts your conversation. “ She’s not your mom. She’s my mom.”

Emma looks up to him, the boy she considers her big brother, who had just shattered her world. You want to scold him for being so cruel. But you realise someone needed to be the bad guy, and better him than you. You couldn’t be the one to say it, to say ‘I’m not your mommy, this isn’t your family, your mommy is gone she isn’t coming back, and I can’t help you anymore because I’m not really your mommy.’

You reach towards Emma, wanting to pull her close and hold her tight. She flinches away from you, not letting you touch her.

“I hate you.” She tells you icily, and you feel her freeze you out.

So much like her mother, you think to yourself.

You promise yourself two things right there and then. First, you are going to find Olivia. Maybe things happen for a reason. Without Emma, there is nothing holding you back. You could search to the ends of the earth. You know you might not like what you find. And even if Olivia is dead, you will find her, bring her home, lay her to rest. It’s the only way to find some sort of peace. The second thing you promise to yourself, is that no matter what happens with Olivia, you’re coming back for Emma.

“Emma, listen to me. I promise you. I’m going to go find your mommy. And I’ll bring her home. And when I do, I’ll come back and get you, and we’ll all be together again.” You desperately want to believe it yourself. You need to believe it.

.

You felt Rafe’s eyes burning into you “Don’t tell her that.” He whispers to you.

“Don’t bother, Natalia.” Emma adds coldly, and the venom in her voice as she utters your name chills you to the bone.
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Chapter 4-

Olivia

~‘I would live and I would die for you.’

‘Die for me? What kind of love is that?’

( Stephen Sondheim)~


It’s cold. You don’t know where you are. You don’t know why you’re here. You don’t know why he is looks at you like he wants to kill you. You don’t know why he doesn’t get it over with.

You close your eyes and think of Natalia.

‘Help me, Save me.’ You silently plead.

You hear the answer in your head, her voice exhausted, exasperated. ‘Save yourself, Olivia.’

It’s dark. You look around, trying to anchor yourself with a familiar landmark. You must recognise something. You must remember something. You cast your mind back, the past few days are so cloudy. How did you get here? How will you get out? You know there are things that happened you can’t remember. And somehow you realise that you don’t really want to remember that damage you caused.

You want so badly to close your eyes, to drift away to a warm safe place. You fight against it. For Emma. Emma needs you to stay focused. To make it out of this. You try to picture her face before you, but it’s so fuzzy. You try to hear her voice, it’s so faint. Natalia had been right.

What kind of a mother are you anyway?

When you close your eyes, you see Emma. She is standing far away into the distance. You wave at her, beckoning her towards you. She stands still, looking at you, almost as if she doesn’t even recognise you. Have you been gone that long? She sways in hesitation. She stares at you for the longest moment, then looks over her shoulder, to Natalia. Without a second glance in your direction she runs into Natalia’s arms. You want to call out. But you stop yourself. What have you really got to offer her?

Do you want your daughters to see you like this?

You recall a pathetic vision of yourself, sprawled out on the bed, declaring you were going to die. You look back at that person, wondering how she could have contemplated such a thing? How could she have felt so desperate, so much self loathing? How she could have turned her back on her life, on her daughter? You try to remember that crushing guilt and shame and hopelessness. But you can’t feel it anymore. You almost wish you did. Almost wish it was easier to let go. Wish that you could be that girl again, and give up on everything. It would be so easy. But somehow it’s not so easy to let go of life this time, of love, of hope of dreams and promises.

You don’t understand that girl who wanted to die. You can’t relate to her anymore. And yet you envy her. Hope hurts so damn much. Fighting is hard, forgiveness is hard. Forgiving yourself the hardest thing of all. Climbing out of that black hole is almost impossible. That girl didn’t want to. But she did it. She was dragged out by someone who loved her. Transformed into a whole new person. It had been worth it. You try to remember that.

You’re tired, your head hurts, you ‘re alone, trapped, confused, and you want to close your eyes so badly. But there is something to hold onto. You tell yourself it’s worth it, surviving this is worth it, you are worth it. Just keep breathing, it will be ok.

There is a little girl who needs you. Where is she? What is she thinking? Is she missing you? There is a knot of fear in your stomach. That vile fear of not knowing where your daughter is, if she is safe. You remember Christmas. The fear that seized your heart when you realised she was gone. The way Natalia had asked you where you were, somehow accusing you of being responsible for Emma’s disappearance. The way you retaliated, reminding her that her own child was in prison. They way you had wounded her like always, somehow believing that the only way to protect yourself was to hurt her.

You would never forget the way Emma had told you

It feels like a real home, a real family

The thing Emma really meant was ‘You never gave me a real home, a real family, Mom.’

The look on Emma’s face when you agreed to stay at the farmhouse was priceless. Like all her Christmases had come at once. Simple, pure joy, Funny thing is, that you felt the way Emma looked. Felt like coming home. Felt like the only thing that mattered was your family- You, Natalia, Emma. And that’s all you needed to be happy.

Emma had been thrilled when she learned of Natalia and Frank’s engagement. Until it sank in that her family was going to be torn apart, that Natalia was making a new family with Frank, and you and Emma didn’t belong. The childish part of you wanted to join Emma as she had begged Natalia not to go. But you were more mature than that, more restrained. You look back at the damage you did out of rejection, regret. And you wondered if Emma had the right idea? If you simply should have said to Natalia ‘I don’t want you to do it, We are your family, don’t leave us, We love you, I love you.’ What was so scary about that? What did you have to lose?

You had never told Natalia that you had overheard the conversation she had with Emma last week.

“Can I come live with you?” Your daughter innocently asked Natalia.

“Emma..” Natalia had begun to protest. But she couldn’t hide the fact she was flattered by Emma’s request. You could see that Natalia wanted it as much as Emma did, wanted Emma to be her own. It made you wonder if that was all Natalia had ever wanted?

“You belong with your mommy.” Natalia had finally answered gently.

“But I have two mommies.”

Damn, so Natalia had been right. Again. You should have forced Emma to change that stupid presentation. Emma is your daughter, not Natalia’s. This ‘family’ wasn’t real. Just a stupid childish dream. You should have known better to believe in it. Obviously this ‘family’ meant little to Natalia. She found herself a better family, with Frank. That was her choice to walk away. Fine. But she couldn’t have Emma too.

Natalia didn’t challenge Emma on this point. Didn’t say ‘I’m not your mommy Emma’. She did say “Don’t you think your mommy would be really sad if you didn’t live with her?”

“She probably wouldn’t notice, she’s at work all the time.” Your heart broke as you listened to your daughters words, realising that she believed them. Believed you wouldn’t notice if she was gone. Had you really been that busy at work? Not noticed how neglected she felt? Had you been so caught up in Natalia that you didn’t realise how your own daughter was drifting away from you?

“I’d visit her.” Emma went on. “I love her a lot, but I love you too, I want to live with you. I want to belong to you.”


The fact that she said she loved you was little consolation. Emma wanted it badly, to be with Natalia. She wasn’t even torn between the two of you. She made her choice. You couldn’t blame her.

Maybe Emma was better off with Natalia.

I’d die for that kid.

Maybe Emma would be better off if you never came home.
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Chapter 5,

Natalia.

“Death accomplishes absence, but so does silence”


“You shouldn’t tell her stuff like that ma.” Rafe tells you the minute Emma has left.

You realise he probably means well, but he is the last person you have left, and the last thing you need is to hear him list off the number of mistakes you’ve made. You feel like your heart has been torn out for the second time this week, and you can’t believe he is standing there lecturing you.

“You shouldn’t get her hopes up that she will see Olivia again.”

“She will see Olivia again.” You answer quickly, assuredly. You have to believe that.

Rafe sighs. He thinks you’re insane.

“Olivia would never abandon Emma like that.” You protest, your hand instinctively moving to your pocket to the letter Olivia left behind. You couldn’t believe she was dead. She was messed up maybe, but you’d find her. Somehow. It would be ok.

“Well, that’s just what I’m saying. Something must have happened to her, you have to face the truth. For your own good. It’s time to move on.” Maybe he doesn’t mean to slice right through your heart like that, but you just can’t take it, tears burn in your eyes as he continues “Don’t feel bad Mom. There was never anything you could do for a person like her. You can’t help people like that. People who are determined to throw away their life, people who don’t care about anyone but themselves. Olivia doesn’t care about her kid, doesn’t care about you. Olivia doesn’t care about anyone but Olivia. I know you wanted to help her, but it’s time to face the facts. You can’t help her. You were wasting your time, fighting a losing battle. It was a waste of a perfectly good heart on her. She was determined to throw her life away a long time ago.”

“Don’t you ever say that!” You yell as you slap him across the face. “Life is never, ever a waste.” He is shocked, horrified, by your gesture. You are too.

You don’t waste your time defending Olivia. Because Rafe speaks the truth. Olivia has always been self centred, self destructive. But you really believed you saw deeper into her, understood her, knew the real Olivia. You loved her in spite of her flaws, maybe because of them. You thanked God every day that she had come through the transplant surgery. Rafe was wrong, It hadn’t been a waste. You loved Gus, you missed him, you would never wish him dead. But a part of you knows that if you had to choose between them, you’d choose Olivia. Part of you is almost grateful for the way things turned out- If Gus hadn’t died you’d never have known Olivia the way you now do. And no matter how badly she hurt you by disappearing like this, you wouldn’t swap these months with her for anything. You despise yourself for thinking like that. Your son hates you for it too. Even though you never verbalised it to him, he knows somehow how much Olivia means to you, that she means more to you than Gus ever did. And he resents her for it. And resents you.

You feel guilt sting you the minute your hand collides with his cheek. All those months waiting for him to be home with you. Now he is here, and you push him away. You just can’t take this. Not from him. And if you’re honest with yourself, you resent him for being here when Emma and Olivia are not. You barely recognise yourself anymore. When did you become so resentful? So bitter? How did your life get to this point where you had to sacrifice everyone else in your life to choose Olivia? Where you resented all the people around you, even your son, just because they aren’t her?

Rafe knows he’s pushed you too far. But he doesn’t stop. You realise he is angry too. “This whole thing was crazy, letting the kid think you guys were like a family.”

“We were a family.” You insist. “Are.” You quickly correct, refusing to think of Olivia in past tense. There would be a future “But you’re part of that family too, Rafe.” You soften your tone, realising for the first time how left out he felt of this life you made with Olivia and Emma while he was in prison.

“Come on ma, You need to put this behind you. I’m your family. Me, and Frank.” He says it so gently that it’s hard to be angry at him. “Forget Olivia, move on.”

“Frank and I broke up, you know that. Why are you doing this?”

“Look, you and Frank will make up, Give him some time.”

“No.” you shake your head “You don’t understand.” Even if Frank forgave you, came running back to you, it would never be right in your heart. Not now you finally realise what love is.

“If you can’t accept who I am, what Olivia means to me….” Your voice trails off.

“Then what Ma? You’d choose her over me, your only son? You’d choose her over your fiancé?”

“I don’t have a fiancé.” You add, because you don’t want to answer his question about who you’d choose.

“Look, it doesn’t matter. Because Olivia is gone. She wanted it that way. Maybe she is fine. Maybe she just took off some place because life was all too hard. Whatever. Either way she is gone, she isn’t coming back. Emma is gone. It’s just us now. I need you. And you need to move in with your own life. You have to stop all this nonsense about finding Olivia. You wont find her if she doesn’t want to be found. It’s not your problem, She knows where you are if she wants to contact you.”

”Alright.” You finally concede. Not because you changed your mind, just because you’re tired of fighting. You hug him tight, trying not to think it might be the last time for a long time. You don’t know how long it’s going to take to find Olivia, and you’re not coming back without her. At least Rafe let you hold him. Emma wouldn’t let you near her. You never got to hug her goodbye. You wonder if Rafe will ever understand why you need to do this, if he will ever forgive you? If Emma will?

Once Rafe is gone, you finish packing. You love this house. But it isn’t difficult to leave. The thing that made it perfect, made it a home, was the people in it. Olivia & Emma. Now they are gone, the building is just a shell. You haven’t the first idea where to start looking for Olivia. You realise that one of two things have happened- either she has really done it this time, finally achieved the most self destructive, selfish, stupid, cowardly thing of her life, finally succeeded in taking her own life. Or else she has just taken off, run away, leaving you and Emma behind to mourn her. You’d hate her for that. But you’d forgive her. Anything if it meant she was alive and you’d get another chance. You realise that Frank is probably the one person you know who could help you, give you an idea where to start on the right track for your search. And you miss him in that moment, not as your fiancé, but as your friend.

Weeks ago you had been packing in this very room under a different situation entirely. Packing in preparation for your new life with Frank. Back then the thought of leaving tore your heart out. But Frank wanted a new place for you both, something for you and him, somewhere to start your life together. It wasn’t unreasonable. Besides Emma loved this place so much. It wouldn’t be fair to ask her to leave. It seemed the best thing for you to move out.

3 Weeks ago

“What are you doing?” You turn to see Olivia in the doorway behind you. It takes a moment to recognise her. She seems so distant and unfamiliar.

“Packing.” You answer, as you place your possessions carefully inside the boxes.

“I can see that.” She remarks bitterly. “Going somewhere?”

‘Frank found us a house.” You tell her.

“You love this place.” She reminds you.

Not really, you think. It’s not the place I love.

“Frank thought…” You begin

“Don’t have a mind of your own, Natalia?” She interrupts before you can finish. “No, I guess not. You like living like that, hiding behind a man, letting him run your life, make decisions for you. How did you ever survive all this time without Gus to run your life for you? Poor Gus. All that talk about how he was the love of your life? What was all that? Guess you replaced him pretty easily with Frank. Guess Gus never meant anything to you. Just a means to an end.”

It’s her tone more than her words that cuts right through you. Although her words hurt too. You haven’t seen her like this for a long time. The way she is speaking to you takes you back to a time and place you’re rather forget. A time before you really knew her, before she knew you. When she had no respect for either of you. You never expected to be back in that place with her. You know this isn’t the real Olivia talking. Why is she doing this to you? You decide its best not to dignify her comments about Gus with a response.

“Emma loves it here, it wouldn’t be right to ask you guys to leave.” You finally manage to say, turning away from her.

Olivia laughs “You think me and my kid would want to live in this dump? Really Natalia?”

“Emma loves it here.” You repeat. You know you can never win an argument with Olivia. Not when she is acting like this. Even if you found it in yourself to think of the right thing to say, something to throw in her face so she would back down, you still wouldn’t win. It always seemed to hurt you equally when you saw the way you had wounded her. It wasn’t worth it. She was so much better at this kind of war, there was no point going up against her. And you didn’t understand, not really, why she felt it necessary to hurt you so badly? What did it achieve? What had you done to provoke this?

“Emma and I were just doing you a favour. Poor Natalia, couldn’t pay the rent without us to help out. We were just doing our good deed for charity.” She informs you.

You try so hard not to give in, not to get sucked into a bitter argument,. “Well, just think about it.” You manage to say calmly. Why was she making it so hard, when you were trying, really trying?

She looks around the room disdainfully, picking up a wooden carved crucifix, twirling it in her hands absent mindedly. You know she isn’t into that religious stuff. But she had come to respect your faith and the meaning it had for you.

“Be careful with that, It’s been in my family for generations.” You protest, and realise instantly it was a mistake. She held it tightly in one hand, her other hand tracing over the boxes as she weaved between them. She reminded you in that moment of a child, pushing the boundaries, waiting for you to react. Waiting to see just how far she could push you.

“Why?’ She asks “Because it means something to you?”

“Yes.” You answer.

“And you’re so careful with the things you care about, aren’t you Natalia?”

“What is that supposes to mean?” What is it you’ve done to have her acting like this?

‘You’re going to need a bigger box.” She says finally.

“Excuse me?” She had now totally confused you.

“For Emma.” She clarifies.

“What you talking about?” You demand to know.

“Emma.” She says casually “’You’re going to take her with you, aren’t you? Pack her in a box with the rest of your precious belongings? Start your great new life in your great big new house with Frank.”

“Have you been drinking?” You have to ask the question, because she really isn’t making any sense.

“Probably.” She confesses. “Like an exceptionally bad mother, I’ve been drinking.”

“I can’t talk to you when you’re like this.” You tell her. You know this wont end up any place good. She will twist everything you say to suit her own purpose. It’s just not worth it.

“That’s fine. Just ignore me Natalia. Cut me out of your life like I never existed. Isn’t that what you want?”

She is acting like a spoiled child, and a badly behaved one at that. She isn’t making sense, and she is clearly trying to make you feel bad, picking a fight. And still, she looks so lost in that moment. So vulnerable and so hurt. Was she really that upset about you leaving?

“I’d never cut you out of my life, Olivia, You’re my best friend. Don’t you know what you and Emma mean to me?” You say sincerely.

“Oh, I know what Emma means to you.” She remarks.

“Yes Emma means the world to me.” What you wanted to say was ‘You mean the world to me.’ But it was somehow easier talking about Emma, or pretending to. You weren’t prepared to put yourself on the line right now, not to have her cut you down and stomp all over you.

“That’s why you’re running out on her?” She challenges.

“I thought I was packing her in a box taking her with me?” You tried to make a joke of it, not sure what else to say.

She laughs. Mirthlessly. “Yeah life is that easy for you, you can just pack up everything you care about in a box, and take it with you. Leaving all the rubbish behind.”

“Olivia, can you please just talk to me? I don’t understand, what have I done?” You reach for her hand. She pauses in that moment, her hands trembling. She looks you in the eye. You wonder for a moment if she is about to cry. Then, in an instant, the Olivia you know is gone. There is a coldness in her eyes that is frighteningly familiar. In one swift motion, and without breaking eye contact, she snaps the wooden crucifix in half, and drops it to the floor. She is looking to you, waiting for you to react. You stand in horrified silence. And finally, she walks out.

You fall to your knees, picking up the pieces of the crucifix, unable to stop the tears that fall. If she had looked back over her shoulder she would have seen you there, pathetically sobbing on your knees, and she would think you’re crying over that crucifix. Crying because she destroyed something sacred to you. But you’re not. You’re crying because you realise for the first time in that moment, that you’re the one who destroyed something sacred. You’re crying because you realise that you’ve lost her. And more than that, you broke her. Snapped her in half just like that crucifix. And you finally wonder if that’s what she has been trying to tell you all along?

As you walk out the door this time, you vow you will never again set foot in this house without Olivia.
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Chapter 6

Olivia

“Death is not the greatest of evils, it is worse to want to die and not be able to.” Sophocles


You sit, in the dark, with nothing to fill the lonely hours. Except remembering. Pieces of the past week come back to haunt you. You find yourself watching back over scenes of your life as if you were a spectator. Watching yourself as you watched Natalia.

Once again, Natalia hadn’t realised you were watching her. It wasn’t a conversation that was meant for your ears. You should have turned and walked away, but it was irresistible. You had just arrived home, but it wasn’t like you were deliberately sneaking around. You weren’t even being very quiet. You slammed the door to your car, running up the drive, into the kitchen. You know you had been looking for her, because her name was on the tip of your tongue, even though you hadn’t a chance to utter it aloud before you realised you were interrupting something in the living room. You‘d been crying. Your throat was tight, your eyes puffy. Why? You couldn’t remember. Why were you seeking her so desperately? You couldn’t remember that either. Only that you had been carrying something that you needed to tell her, badly.

The two of them had been so engrossed in their conversation that they hadn’t heard you approach. You stopped still in your tracks when you realised she was not alone. Your heart sank in your chest when you realised it was Frank. You should have turned around and walked away. You could not.

“Natalia, I just don’t understand.” Frank exclaimed.

“I’m sorry, please believe me. I never meant to hurt you Frank.” She took a step back from him. Shame covered her face. She looked sorry, genuinely sorry. You wanted to hold her.

“We can take things slower.” He stepped towards her patronisingly. How you hated watching him so close to her. ‘It will be ok, you’ve just got cold feet.”

“There is someone else.” She blurted out just as his hand was about to reach for her face. You could tell she hadn’t meant to say it. In her desperation, under so much pressure, it had just slipped out. You could tell she regretted it. She seemed almost shocked by the words, as if she hadn’t even known that she herself was thinking them.

Even Frank looked shocked initially. And you thought to yourself-- Someone else? Someone else who? You lived with Natalia, you would know if there was ‘someone else’. But one look at her told you she wasn’t lying just to deter Frank. She just wasn’t capable of pulling off a deception like that so convincingly. She meant it. She didn’t love Frank, she loved someone else.

Finally Frank nodded, having figured it out before you could. He enlightened you by speaking it aloud. “Gus?” He ventured. “You’re not over Gus? Natalia, that’s ok. You need more time. I’ll wait.”

“No. Frank, NO.” She answered him forcefully. You loved seeing her so passionate, so sure of herself. Gone was the woman you had considered to be little more than a doormat. Here stood a woman of fire and conviction and confidence. You were proud of her. “There is no use waiting. I will never be over it. My heart belongs to someone else, it is never going to be yours….”

You hadn’t meant to interrupt them. You wondered later if Natalia ever would

have disentangled herself from Frank that night without your intervention. How long would he have stood there declaring his intention to wait, happy to compete with a ghost for Natalia’s affections? You would never know, because you had dropped your keys to the floor, and they both spun around instantly, glaring at you as you stood in the doorway.

Along with the keys that fell through your fingers, you felt the weight of that thing you had been carrying around and holding so tightly instantly disappear. The reason you had been seeking her so desperately, the thing you needed to tell her, you felt it disintegrate right there in your hands and slip through your fingers. Suddenly, it didn’t matter anymore.

Natalia looked almost grateful you had interrupted. Frank looked resentful.

“Please, Just go.” She said to him meekly.

“I’ll call you tomorrow.” He told her as he picked up his jacket.

She shook her head but didn’t bother protesting aloud. He leaned forward to kiss her and she pulled away. He turned to you then. And if looks could kill you would have been dead on the spot. You returned his icy stare, refusing to let him intimidate you. You had come to think of him as the enemy. Childishly and much like Emma, it was easy to blame Frank for stealing Natalia away, destroying your home. And yet you felt an eerie connection with him and his sad, unrequited love for Natalia in that moment.

Dark silence had fallen after Frank departed. You wanted to run but you felt as if your feet were nailed to the floor. Natalia must have felt the same, she didn’t move a muscle. She didn’t speak. Neither did you. What could you say? Gus? Still in love with Gus? So much so that she ruined her chances with Frank? You shook your head trying to make sense of it.

Natalia couldn’t look you in the eye. It took you a minute to understand why. A minute to remember that you were the one who took Gus from her. You were the villain in her story.

It cost Gus everything to keep you alive

Guilt crushed you so heavily you found it hard to breathe. But a different kind of guilt to before. Before you had felt guilt for the fact Gus was dead and you had survived. You felt bad he had been coming to find you that day of the accident. You hated yourself for praying so hard for a heart and not caring about where it came from. All of that you had somehow made peace with.

It cost me everything

This guilt is different. This guilt is all about her. Guilt because you stole something from her. Guilt because you look at the pain in her eyes and realise you caused it. You’d never seen things that way before. But now that you knew her, depended on her, couldn’t imagine your life without her. Now, it meant something different to know that you had been the one to take everything from her.

You owed me, Gus didn’t

That thing you thought she owed to you, she paid you. She paid with everything she had. And now? Now it was you who owed her everything. She saved your life, you knew assuredly that you wouldn’t have survived without her. She had given you back your will to live, your hope. Given you more than you ever dreamed of. Now it was you who owed her a debt that you could never repay.

There was nothing you could do, not even in a thousand lifetimes, to make your life worth so much that it justified the fact that you were here, and Gus was not.

You wondered briefly what Natalia must think when she looked at you. Does she see Gus? His legacy living on in that heart? Does she see the woman who took everything from her? Then you realised it didn’t matter, she didn’t look at you anymore. She couldn’t bring herself to. The sight of you made her sick.

You pull forcefully on the ropes binding your hands behind your back. It only causes them to restrict you tighter, increasing your frustration. How long had you been here? How many days had you sat here pathetically, letting him call all the shots? Meekly accepting your fate? It was something she would do, not you. You’re not going to let him get away with this.

You scream and yell for the first time since you had uttered her name days ago and he laughed in your face. Finally, when your throat is raw from screaming and you have no more breath to continue, he enters. Triumphantly. He is holding all the cards, and he is loving it.

He smiles at you, the way he always does. It’s extremely unnerving. He is smiling, but his eyes are cold, and pass over you disdainfully. It is written all over his face the things he thinks about you. That you’re unworthy to even breathe the same air as he does. And you wonder, not for the first time, why he doesn’t just kill you and get it over with?

“Eat something.” He tells you, and his voice almost sounds caring.

He bought food with him, as he did every day. You never ate it. You refused to. It was probably poisoned. You told yourself that it was your way of defying him, that it somehow made you stronger. He wanted you to eat, and therefore you would not. But sometimes you wondered if the truth was that you just couldn’t be bothered to eat. It was easier if you just faded away, a little bit each day. It wouldn’t really be your fault then, it wouldn’t really be giving up. But the bigger truth is that you feel totally sick to your stomach as you think back over the past weeks. Eating is the last thing you feel like.

He holds the spoon to your lips, as if you were a child. You turn your head defiantly, refusing to let him degrade you any further.

“Untie my hands.” You demand. It’s the first time you’ve spoken to him, the first time you’ve asked anything of him. You hadn’t even asked him where you were, what he was planning. All your energy had been focused elsewhere.

He seems pleased that you are interacting with him, and swiftly casts a look over his shoulder to the door locked behind him, to your feet which are still bound. He then pulls his knife, and gently cuts the ropes from around your wrists. He smiles as he hands you the bowl and spoon, and sits opposite you, watching.

You take it and eat, not because you want to, but because you know you need to buy time, build your strength.

“Why are you doing this to me?” You ask him.

“Doing what to you?” He responds. And when you don’t answer he continues. “I haven’t done anything to you. Olivia, as usual, you’ve inflicted this misery upon yourself with no help from anyone. Everything I’ve done is for your own good.”

You have no answer for him. Because you don’t really remember the things that happened. Your head is swimming in confusion. So much so that his words almost make sense to you, despite the fact that you know he has imprisoned you, tied you up, kept you from your daughter. Somehow it seems true that he is innocent, that you are the guilty party. That this prison is one of your own making and the only one who can find the way out is you.

He continues on “In fact Olivia, I saved your life.”

You shrug. You don’t remember, You don’t believe him. And it’s not like your life is worth very much right now.

“You want me to thank you for it?” You ask him in disbelief.

“I expect more than thanks.” He tells you finally. “You owe me.”

This time it is you who laughs. Does he not know how little your life is worth? Does he not know how many people you already owe insurmountable debts to? What is it he thinks you have left to pay him with?
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Chapter 7

Natalia

"Seeing is believing
And in my arms I see her
She's here, really here
Really mine now
She seems at home here"


You watch the sunlight dancing in the trees, the leaves glistening with the rain from the previous night, the branches swaying in the cool breeze. Everything seems so calm, so fresh, so new. And so very wrong.

The sun disappears suddenly behind a cloud casting dark shadows around you. The air chills for a moment. The world is dulled somehow compared to just a moment ago. It seems like something is gone, something is missing. And you realise, something is.

Then as the wind picks up, the clouds shift and sunshine floods you again, making you ache. You squint your eyes, looking up in disbelief. Disbelief that the sun is still shining, that the world is still turning.

It seemed the heavens opened last night, it had been the greatest downpour of rain you’d seen in many years. As if God himself was grieving right along side you. You’d sat all night in this place, in the dark. The moon and stars obscured by the dense clouds. The cold, hard rain relentlessly falling. Somehow you felt untouched. You sat still, waiting, just to see if the sun would really rise in the morning. Because you couldn’t imagine the sun really shone in such a dark place.

Minutes after you had left the farmhouse on your search for Olivia, you had received the phone call. The police had found Olivia’s car abandoned. Here in this very place you now sat. Hours away from your home, in the middle of nowhere. On this steep cliff top, surrounded by dense trees and nothing but the cold angry ocean waiting below. It was here they told you they had found her car. And inside it all of her possessions. Her phone. Her purse, complete with a photo of you and Emma inside it. But they had found no sign of Olivia.

You wondered if this place was significant to Olivia, had she been here before? Why had she come here? How would she have found this place if she had not been looking for it? You never would have found it on your own.

You sit now, perched on the very edge of that cliff top as the sun rises. You cast your gaze down, wondering where she is. If she is down there swallowed up by that vast, angry ocean? If she is at peace? You close your eyes, remembering the last time you had seen her.

~~…

You had found the tickets quite by accident while you were cleaning.

“What’s this?” You asked her

“What does it look like?” She replied. It was getting harder and harder to have a civilised conversation with her.

“It looks like plane tickets.” Tickets to London. For Olivia and Emma.

She shrugged.

“Going on a holiday?” You asked, unable to hide the disappointment in your voice.

“No.” She answered.

“I don’t understand.” And you didn’t understand. Anything. First you had been so confused by the cold way she was treating you. And then, suddenly, your eyes had been opened. You had figured it out. So you thought. She had hardly spoken to you since interrupting you and Frank. She had heard what you said, heard you as you told Frank you couldn’t be with him because you loved her. And yet she was even more cold and distant towards you. Had you been wrong?

“Emma and I are moving. Permanently. ”

“To London?”

“Yes.”

You were speechless. “You can’t.”

“Why not?”

“Emma loves it here.” It was true of course. But why did you always hide behind that excuse when there was so much more you wanted to say.

“I told you Emma and I would be moving out.” She reminded you.

“But Frank and I...” Your voice trailed off. She knew already that you had broken it off with Frank. That he was gone. You had thought somehow that would be the end of all this. You couldn’t believe she was walking out on you. And you realise how she must have felt when you wanted to move out with Frank. But that was just around the corner. Moving across the world was something different entirely. And you just couldn’t make any sense of it.

.

“Emma and I are starting a new life. I am her mother, And I’m taking her to London with me.”

You look back to the tickets in your trembling hands. “Tomorrow?” You asked in disbelief.

“There is nothing keeping us here.” She responded bitterly.

‘What about me?’ You want to ask. But the fact you even had to ask indicated to you that you weren’t a factor in the decision at all. “What about Emma, her school, her friends?”

She just shrugged again. Smiling. Not truly smiling in that happy way you knew she was capable of. Smiling instead in that bitter, resentful way.

You stand, shocked. “You haven’t even packed anything.” You told her.

“We’ll just buy new things when we get there.” She told you brightly.

It sounded so crazy, and for a moment you were sure she was playing games with you. But then you’d seen the look in her eyes.

“Have you told Emma about theses plans? Because I was just upstairs with her, and she never mentioned….”

“Don’t tell me how to take care of my daughter!” She ordered you angrily.

“I wasn’t.” You protested. “I was just wondering...”

“I am her mother, and I decide what’s best for Emma.”

“Were you even going to say goodbye to me?” You wanted to know.

“Goodbye, Natalia.” She waved at you. She is still smiling that condescending smile. But there was something else in her eyes that you didn’t quite recognise. Was it just too late? Had you done too much damage? Shattered her so completely that its impossible to make things right? Was she deliberately trying to hurt you? Had you just been so completely wrong about everything?

“Have you been drinking?” You asked her, for the third time this week. Because you just couldn’t make any sense of the way she was behaving lately.

“Have I been drinking?” She repeated, taunting you. “Just because I don’t agree with everything you think, you decide that I must be under the influence of alcohol?”

“I just don’t understand any of this.” You told her honestly.

She stopped for a moment, and for the first time in days she looked you straight in the eyes. “I can’t be around you anymore.” She said simply, sincerely.

She meant it. You didn’t understand it, couldn’t make sense of it, but you did believe it. So much so that you were afraid to ask her ‘why?’ Had you really misread the signals so completely? Had you frightened her by your declaration to Frank?

You needed to do something fast. To bring her back to earth, give her some perspective. Because this was crazy. You needed to reach her somehow, you needed to stop her from doing this. Destroying your family. You felt certain you could work things out somehow, but not if she was on the other side of the world.

“It’s a bit late to decide that, Olivia. This is Emma’s family, you can’t just drag her halfway across the world when it suits you.”

“This is Emma’s family?” She challenged you. “That didn’t seem to occur to you when you were going to marry Frank and leave Emma behind. When did you decide this family was so precious to you?”

“That was different.” You began, before realising that it was pointless to argue with her. Before realising that maybe she had a point. But Frank was gone more. What more did she want from you?

You knew it wasn’t fair to drag Emma into this, to use her and undoubtedly upset her by bringing her into the conversation. But you could think of no other way to get through to Olivia, to make her see the impact of what she was doing. You couldn’t bring yourself to break in front of her, to beg her to stay, to plead with her that it would kill you to be apart from her and Emma. Let Emma be the one to do it.

“Where are you going?” She asked you as you headed for the staircase.

“To get your daughter. You can tell her all about your plans.”

“No.” She protested. And it almost made you stop. You wanted to believe this was just a game. That she had no intention of taking Emma just like that, leaving you behind. That for some reason she was trying to elicit your attention, to get a reaction out of you. But you just didn’t trust her anymore. You didn’t understand her. You didn’t know how to connect with her. She was standing right there in front of you, and yet she was so untouchable. Connecting with her so unobtainable. It was as if she had already disappeared. And it frightened you.

“Natalia, Please don’t…” You thought you heard her say as you climbed the stairs to fetch Emma.

But you didn’t stop, didn’t look back. Why should you stop? You were about to lose everything.

You didn’t know what you had been expecting when you led Emma down the stairs that night. But what you had not expected in the least, was to find her gone. That was the last time you had seen her.

~~ …

It is almost silent. There is only the waves crashing below, and the sound of your own heart beating. It is peaceful. Isolated. Your clothes are soaked from the rainfall last night. You’re cold even now that the sun has risen. The warm rays don’t touch you. Your blood has turned to ice inside of you.

When you close your eyes you can feel her breath against your skin. You wrap your trembling arms around yourself tightly and breathe in. You can smell her here. You can almost taste her she is so close.

You stand to your feet, calling her name. It echoes far into the distance. Over and over again you call her name, your cries becoming louder, more desperate each time. And you wait for her to answer you. But no answer comes. Finally, as no more sound comes from your mouth, you fall to your knees in the mud sobbing. And realise that she is never going to answer you. She is gone.

Looking into the vast ocean below you realise you’ll never be able to find her. Never see her again. Never touch her. You can see it. You believe it. And you long for that time back when you had precious hope.

Looking into that vast ocean below, you want to jump. Badly.

You understand it in that moment, in a way you never did. How someone could long for death so desperately. You just want the pain to go away. You want to be with Olivia. You don’t know how you can live with the grief, regret, guilt, loneliness.

You understand it completely, Finally. The dark hideous thing that had pulled her over the edge. You wanted it badly. You stood there, leaning forward. Longing for the ocean to swallow you too.

You want it, you imagine it, you understand it. The pain you feel outweighs any religious arguments against jumping over that edge. But you still can’t do it. You’re stronger than that. You have more integrity. More compassion for the people you’d leave behind. The waves crash on the shore below you and a wave of resentment washes over you again, why couldn’t she just fight a bit harder? You don’t know if you can ever forgive her for this.

“Coward.” You scream over the edge. Hating her for taking the easy way out. And then you start laughing. Because you realise you were the coward. The one too scared to admit your feelings to her.

You failed her. She needed you to guide her, to help her. You let her down. You always thought of her as strong. Not necessarily good, or smart, not honest, not open, not easy to get along with. But strong yes. She had this way of making it seem that she was the strong one, and you the one needing protection from the big bad world. But you realise now that it’s always been you the stronger of the two.

You’re a freakin super hero

You were supposed to be able to save her. Maybe Rafe was right, you never could have saved her. You never should have tried. Rafe told you that too. Even Olivia told you that in her letter. But you hadn’t listened. You were so sure that you could make things right. So sure that she had changed. You both had changed. Who would have thought you’d have so much to offer each other?

You look back over all the obstacles. All the things that stood in your way of telling her how precious she was to you. The things that prevented you admitting to yourself how desperately you wanted and needed her. It had all been such a confusing, guilt laden mess in your mind. Now it was all so clear. That she was the most important thing to you. That all these religious constructs about forbidden love were nothing to do with the God you had faith in, a God of compassion and love. How could God have wanted things to turn out like this?

You nervously run your fingers over the phone. In your right hand your phone, and in your left Olivia’s that the police had retrieved from her car. Last night you had sat ringing your phone from hers. Just to see her name flash up on the screen. That brief flicker of hope before reality came crashing down around you. You would give anything to have that last phone call back.

~~…

You had lost track of the number of times you had rung her number, over and over the night she had walked out and left you standing in the living room with Emma by your side. Innocently looking up to you and asking “Where is mommy?” Even way back then, your anger was intense. How could she just walk out on you, on Emma? Moving to London without even goodbye? Taking off in the night like that? You hit redial forcefully, each time your fear and anger escalating. You were ready to let her have it when she picked up the phone.

You were almost surprised hours later, when she had answered her phone. She didn’t speak at first, but you knew she was there on the other end of the line, you could hear her breathing.

She had been gone only hours. It was before you’d found her note. But you had a feeling that something was very wrong. And a desperate need to talk to her, to see her, to touch her.

“Olivia.” You breathed. Lost for words. Confused. Overwhelmed. Not having the first idea where to begin.

Still no sound from her, and instantly your relief gave way to frustration. And fear. That she was going to hang up on you any second if you didn’t say exactly the right thing she wanted to hear. And you were lost. You knew that arguing with her was counterproductive and pointless. And you felt this sudden compassion for her. Felt it instinctively that she was in trouble, even though you had not yet found her letter.

“Olivia, Please talk to me.” You pleaded with her gently.

“What makes you think I want to talk to you?” She finally threw back at you.

“You answered the phone, that’s a good start.”

She doesn’t respond to that. So you continue. “I think you do want to talk to me. I think we can sort this out Olivia. Our family is the most important thing to me. We have to try. But I can’t help you if you don’t tell me what the problem is.”

“You can’t help me anyway Natalia. You never could. That’s the trouble with you, you think you can fix everything. You can’t accept the truth- that some things can’t be fixed.”

It wasn’t her usual petulant tone. She sounded sad, sincere, tired. And you want to assure her ‘Yes I can fix it, I can fix everything just come back to me.’ But you’re not really sure you can give her what she wants, what you want to give her. It was true you loved her not Frank. She and Emma were your family, and you wanted it back. And you believed she wanted it too, in spite of the way she had been acting of late. But it still frightened you. It still went against everything the church taught you. Everything you thought you believed in up until she came along re defined the very essence of love.

“I’m sorry.” You told her. You meant you were sorry for hurting her with Frank, Sorry that you didn’t understand what she wanted from you, sorry you couldn’t fix everything. Sorry it had taken you so long to realise how much you cherished her, and even now that you knew it you were still holding back. You meant it, you were sorry. But at the same time, somewhere in the back of your mind, you asked yourself this question- ‘Why am I always the one apologising?’

“I know you’re sorry, Natalia.” She said it so sincerely that the following bitter words shocked you. “I bet you’re sorry. You have been ever since you made that decision let me have your dead husbands’ heart. I told you you’d regret that decision. Didn’t I?”

“No!” You answered forcefully. No you didn’t regret it, far from it. This had nothing to do with Gus, with the heart. This whole issue had been wearisome the first time around. It was long behind you. Why was she trying to bring it all up again? “I’m not going to go there with you Olivia. I’m not getting sucked into this. You know that isn’t true, Why are we even talking about this now?” Why when there is so much else I need to say to you?

“You want him back so badly, don’t you? ” She asked you. And she wasn’t taunting you in that angry way you had become so used to lately. She sounded so small and lost. But it wasn’t enough to prevent your frustration getting the better of you. What a stupid question! “That’s why you broke it off with Frank.” She announced matter of factly.

“Does it matter Olivia? Really, does it matter? Can I have Gus back? No.” You don’t want to answer her question. Because guilt rips through you when you realise how much you love her. That given the choice, you’d gladly sacrifice Gus to save her. It frightens you how much you love her. More than you ever imagined possible to feel for another human being.

“Because of me.” She said finally.

“Everything is because of you.” Is what you’d said to her in that moment. Your voice shaking because it frightened you, the intensity of your feelings for her. It frightened you admitting it to her aloud finally. It frightened you to imagine how she would respond.

You meant that you had left Frank ‘because of her’. Meant that your world turns ‘because of her’. You realised only later how she may have interpreted that as ‘Gus isn’t here because of you.’ You should have been more careful with your words. But the truth was, Gus had been the furthest thing from your mind, and you couldn’t comprehend that the thing bothering her had anything to do with Gus. You hadn’t realised she was on an entirely different wavelength, having a completely different conversation to the one you were engaged in.

Then you heard the click as she hung up the phone. The lonely silence. That was the last time you’d heard her voice.
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Olivia

Chapter 8

"~Despair ruins some, presumption many." Benjamin Franklin.


You despise yourself, sitting here so complacent. And yet you find yourself oddly accepting of your fate. Of this grey existence that can hardly be called living. He had done what you never thought possible. Managed somehow to dull your senses, dull the pain. It’s as if you’re not really alive, all your energy is depleted. You’re completely numb.

And you start to wonder if living like this, as his prisoner, is really so bad. Somewhere deep down you tell yourself not to give in. Not to lose your fight, your righteous anger, your strength. But day by day you grow weary. You stop fighting as life, as pain, drift further and further from your grasp. You can scarcely call yourself a prisoner anymore. He doesn’t even keep you tied and bound these days. You wonder, if you tried to open the door, would you find he had even bothered to lock it?

You find yourself looking forward to his visits, to the distraction. You find yourself counting the minutes until he returns.

“What exactly is it you want?” You’d asked him last time he came. Not because you had any intention of giving it to him. You were just making conversation. Passing the time. You were curious.

“The same thing you do.” He smiled that eerie smile again as he answered you. He left you then, alone to reflect on what he had said.

To reflect on the things you wanted.

You want to be able to breathe without this sharp pain stabbing you right through your heart. You want to banish this cloud of black insidious guilt eating away at your insides, consuming you a little more with every heart beat. You want goodness, integrity, strength, courage. Like Natalia. You want to be the person that she saw in you.

You want Natalia, undoubtedly. Want her to love you the way you loved her. Want to be with her forever. Truly with her. Want her to believe you when you told her you were sorry. Want her to understand how much she had changed your life.

You want to tell her this “I love you. I’m so sorry, for everything. I never meant to hurt you. I’m not the same person. You changed me, taught me. And I want to spend the rest of my life proving it to you, loving you, making you happier than you ever dreamed.”

But you know she’d laugh in your face. You can almost hear her telling you in response. “Please Olivia. Look inside yourself. Really, take a look. You haven’t changed. You never will. You’re not capable of love, you don’t even know the meaning of the word.”

Maybe that’s true, maybe you can’t change, maybe you’ll never be worthy, maybe she will never love you. But you want her to know you never meant to hurt her. You want her to understand all those things you’d said and done. How could she make sense of them? She must think you hate her.

You would probably die here, and she will never know the truth. She will never know that you love her. Never know how grateful you are. How much you admire and respect her. It seems the most important thing right in this moment, to tell her the truth, the whole truth. But how can you, when you’re prisoner here? You wasted so many opportunities, and now it’s too late.

You want Emma too. Long to feel her small arms around your neck, hearing her whisper in your ear, “I love you mommy.” You want to see those beautiful innocent eyes looking to you as if you could save the world. You want to be worthy of that unconditional love Emma felt for you. You want to turn back the clock and make up for all the ways you’d let her down.

You remember the last time your daughter had told you she loved you.

You were late home. Not just a bit late, hours late. You weren’t worried about Emma. She would hardly notice your absence, Natalia would take care of her.

Natalia had phoned you many times that night. You couldn’t bring yourself to answer the phone. She left half a dozen messages. You played each one over and over. The first was a simple enquiry about whether you’d be home for dinner. The next she was growing frustrated with you for not replying to her earlier message. And as the hours went on, her messages grew less angry and more concerned. She was worried about you. And that had to mean she cared, just a little, didn’t it? It made you feel so good hearing that in her voice. And you knew you should have called her back hours ago. That it was pathetic and pointless playing games like this. You could never explain it to her, to anyone. This cloud of blackness that consumed you ever since she announced her engagement to Frank, sometimes making it so hard to breathe that you honestly believed you would die. And how hearing her voice, that compassion and caring in those messages, took away that blackness for just a little while. Let you breathe easy. And so you hadn’t called her back, instead sat listening to her messages over and over.

When you finally arrived home hours later, Natalia was waiting for you in the lounge.

“Where have you been?” She demanded. It angered you, that she demanded an explanation like this. And yet it made you feel good, that concern in her eyes. Foolishly you had imagined arriving home, imagined her so relieved and pleased to see you that she would pull you into a tight embrace and just hold you. But you could tell instantly it wasn’t going to go down like that. To hide your disappointment you did what you do best, attacked her.

“Where’s my daughter?” You asked bitterly, ignoring her question and refusing to apologise for being late, for not returning her calls.

“It’s late. She has school tomorrow. She’s been asleep for hours” Natalia told you, making you feel once again that you were the world’s worst mother.

“You put her to bed before I could say goodnight to her?” You asked angrily.

”We didn’t know when you coming home. I called you six times.” She threw back in your face.

You stormed angrily upstairs, realising she was right but not able to admit it aloud. Hiding your pain behind anger and resentment was so much easier.

You sat watching your sleeping daughter. You kissed her forehead. She stirred and mumbled sleepily, without opening her eyes “I love you mommy.”. And you sat there, stroking her hair, wondering if Emma had meant you when she said ‘I love you Mommy’, or had she been talking to her other mommy. The one who was here with her, the one who fed her dinner, the one who read to her, the one who tucked her into bed and kissed her goodnight?

It was that exact moment you realised Emma would be fine without you. Emma and Natalia both.

You decide finally that it doesn’t matter what you want. You can’t turn back time, can’t take back the things you’d said and done, to Natalia, to Emma. Can’t change the way you feel, or the way Natalia feels about you. Can’t bring Gus back from the dead.

‘I can’t have what I want.’ You would tell him when he came back for his daily visit. ‘I can’t have what I want, and I can’t live without it. And I don’t give a shit what you want. And I won’t help you get it. I’m already dead inside, I’m no use to you.’

You should have known all along you could never have her, didn’t deserve her. It would never work. You were nowhere near worthy. You should have known it. And yet it cut right through you the day her son stood before you telling you exactly that. It was the day you had argued with Natalia and snapped her wooden crucifix. The day you had found her packing, realising she was actually going to do it. Shatter your family for good. The day you had heard Emma ask Natalia if she could live with her and Frank. The day you realised that your daughter loved her other mommy just a little more than she loved you. The day you realised you were losing them both.

“I want to talk to you.” Rafe demanded.

“Not now.” You told him, pushing past. You didn’t have time for this.

He grabbed your arm, pulling you to a stop. And whispered in your ear.

“You can’t have her. She doesn’t want you. You’ll never have her.”

The truth of his words left you breathless. And you stood shaking. Feeling nervous. Inadequate. You despised him for making you feel like this. You hardly recognised yourself. Natalia had done this to you, made you weak, pathetic. You tried to despise her for that, too. But, somehow, you could not.

You lean close to him “Who are you to tell me what I can’t have?” You demanded, trying to make your voice steady, trying to sound like the ‘old Olivia Spencer’ Not this pathetic creature you had become in recent weeks.

You strain your ears to listen as that same ‘old Olivia Spencer’ whispered inside your head. ‘So what, Natalia doesn’t want you, when has that stopped you? When has anyone ever stopped Olivia Spencer from having what she wanted?’

Momentarily you felt better. Until you realised something. You couldn’t make her want you, need you, love you. And without that, she would be only a prisoner. You couldn’t ever have her the way you wanted her, couldn’t control her will, her desire. And even if you could control her that way, then she wouldn’t be Natalia anymore. It would be an entirely meaningless, worthless victory.

Rafe didn’t respond immediately. He didn’t need to. He stood looking at you, looking right through you. That look of contempt wasn’t new. You’d seen it before. That stare in his eyes. That stare telling you that he thinks he is a better person than you. That maybe you’d taken things from him, from his family. Maybe you’d won battles along the way. But he still won the war. Because he knew your victories were meaningless. He looked triumphant. Secure in the knowledge that he is good, worthy, happy. And you are bad. And crazy. And miserable.

You see something almost like pity in his eyes. It disgusts you. To realise that he pitied you. To realise his mother did too.

He stood calmly. As if he knew something you didn’t. Maybe he knew that you would never have Natalia. Never be worthy. Maybe everyone knew it. You’d been such a fool.

Maybe he just saw you breaking before his eyes and realised there was no need for him to be angry and forceful with you.

“This ends now.” He finally told you.

There is genuine confusion on your face. You can’t quite keep up with him, everything is spinning so fast inside your head. You can’t think of a witty, cutting reply. You listen again for the old Olivia to whisper in your ear, but even she has left you for dead. And so you stood, bewildered. And he continued, talking to you as if you were the child and he the adult.

“This “thing” with my mother.” He spits out at you.

Somehow you want him to spell it out. You need to hear it. You need someone else to verbalise it. Then you’d know that you hadn’t imagined it. The way she looked at you. The way her eyes lit up when you entered a room. The tender way she touched you. The way . her heart beat faster as you sat beside her, the way her hand seemed to fit exactly inside your own as if God himself had created the two of you perfectly to fit within the other.

‘There is no thing’ You almost tell him. And it’s true. You never had the courage to tell her how you felt. Her reaction to Emma’s presentation told you all you needed to know. There was no real hope for the two of you. But you did hope that somehow your life could go on, with her, at the farmhouse. That you would be together as a family, forever. It would be enough. You’d be content for things to go on just as they had. You wouldn’t push it further, And maybe one day things would just naturally happen. But if not, you’d be happy just to have your family. But she had ruined all of that by her engagement to Frank. She had chosen someone else. And that’s why you couldn’t understand why Rafe felt the need to have this conversation with you.

“Haven’t you hurt us enough?” Rafe demanded to know. And you remembered the way you had tried to break up Gus and Natalia, the way you had taken their house, taken Natalia’s rings. The way Gus heart now beat inside you and he lay cold and lifeless in the ground. No wonder Rafe resented you. No wonder he wanted you out of his mothers life. You never bought anything but heart ache to Natalia.

“Just get out of our lives Olivia, for good.” He finished boldly.

You didn’t argue. You couldn’t. You hated yourself for the things of the past. You remembered every one of those things. Remembered the way you tried so desperately to search for meaning, to find something that would take away the pain, the guilt. You weren’t proud of it- The way you desperately sought relief to the exclusion of every one else’s needs. And found relief nowhere. Except in her. The way that realisation alarmed you, confused you, frightened you.

You remember Rafe looking at you as if you weren’t even human. Screaming and yelling that you had taken everything from him, and now you wanted Gus’ house. And you remember Natalia looking to him, whispering to him, assuring him that he was the better person. That you were sick and twisted and cruel.

You found yourself lost for words. Without excuses. Without accusations. You found the ground shaking beneath you. Found yourself longing for it to open and swallow you whole.

Clearly Rafe had not expected you to stand there passively. And he softened his tone for his final words.

“Look, If you care about her at all, just leave her alone. For good. ” With that, he turned and walked away.

You knew two things in that moment. You did love her. And for her own good, you had to leave her. Let her make her life with Frank, with her son. You had nothing to offer her.

You walked for hours after Rafe left you standing there stunned. As the sun was setting in the sky, you found yourself at the old shed behind the farmhouse. You realised you had never set foot inside it before. By the looks of the place, no one had set foot inside it for years.

It wasn’t yet dark enough to hide the cobwebs, the thick layer of dust and dirt that covered everything in sight, the old tools carelessly scattered across the floor.

Your eyes were drawn to something shimmering underneath the hay at your feet. You reach over and pick up the rusty old knife. You wondered what it was used for? You pictured a farmer slaughtering animals with this very instrument right here in this shed.

Your fingers grasp the knife tightly, so tightly your entire arm is aching.

The knife feels like it belongs in your hand. It makes you want to slice open your chest and cut out your heart. To hold it beating in your hands, To see with your own eyes if the thing in is one piece, or if it was as broken and shattered as it felt

You close your eyes, and imagine ripping that heart out, giving it back to its rightful owner. As if somehow it would bring Gus back. Or somehow bring that spark of joy back to Natalia’s eyes. Or somehow just end the pain you feel with every wretched heart beat.

You wonder what would happen, if Natalia walked in? If she saw you lifeless and bleeding on the ground, and beside you saw the heart lying in the hay. Which on would she run to?

You knew you could never touch it, the heart. It was the most precious, painful thing you possesed. And it wasn’t even yours. It belonged to Gus, to Natalia. It was the things Natalia loved you for. The thing that brought you together. Even aching and broken, this heart is the most precious thing you have. The heart is like Natalia, hurting you deeply, but keeping you alive at the same time. You know you couldn’t do anything to that heart.

Instead you lifted the knife to your throat. You felt the cool blade against your skin. You held your breath for a second, five seconds, ten. You closed your eyes, you wondered how much it would hurt to drag that blade across your skin? How long it would take blood to drain out of you? How long before all the pain was gone? You could almost taste the relief death would bring. With a steady hand you pressed the rusty blade harder against the skin of your neck.

But you were just playing, just dreaming. The thought of actually killing yourself right there in that shed didn’t enter your mind, not seriously. Just as the thought of Emma playing only metres away in the house didn’t occur to you. You were lost in your own world, thick blackness swirling around you. Standing alone, just you and your knife. You were just dreaming, you told yourself later. You never would have done it.

Suddenly you felt the arms as they grabbed you forcefully from behind. Felt fear and anger rising up inside you at this intrusion. You spun around, tightened your grip on the knife, swung it quickly at your perceived attacker. You heard the sharp cry. Felt the knife in your hand as it collided with flesh. You were too afraid to open your eyes and see it. It all happened so suddenly. Later you told yourself that you hadn’t meant anyone any harm. It was his fault for sneaking up on you, grabbing you like that.

“What are you doing? Your kid is just in the house. You’re completely insane!” He screamed at you.

When you had opened your eyes you found her son once again standing before you. Your eyes are drawn to the arm he was clutching against his body, trying to stop the blood flowing from the wound you had inflicted. Then your gaze wandered to the bloodied knife you still held firmly in your trembling hand.

And then you heard the quiet gasp, and turned to see Natalia standing in the doorway.
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Chapter 9

Natalia

"And thou shalt in thy daughter see,
This picture, once, resembled thee."
(Ambrose Philips)


You glance at your watch. It’s almost time. For days you have spent hours standing in this very spot, watching Emma at lunch time play in the school yard. You don’t recognised her, this lonely solitary child, siting on her own. Not engaging with the other children at all. Never smiling, never laughing. You don’t recognise yourself either, hiding behind trees, stalking a child in the playground. Is this what your life has become?

You realise Emma may not want to come with you. And that what you’re planning, as well as legally amounting to kidnapping, might actually involve taking Emma against her will. And it feels wrong. If she really didn’t want to go with you, would you take her still? Would it be fair to her? Would you survive her rejection?

You feel like a criminal. A sinner. Feel like you’re plotting some heinous deed. But it seems you’ve screwed up so badly these last months that one more crime to the list could hardly make a difference. You hate the person you’ve become.

But as soon as you lay your eyes on that precious girl, your every doubt vanishes. Everything in you screams “that’s my child, my daughter” You believe it, more strongly than anything. Emma belongs with you. How could that be a crime? Emma needs to be with you. Olivia believed it too. She told you in her letter. Only thing she asked of you. Not forgiveness. Not understanding. Just ‘Take care or Emma.’ It was the very last thing you could do for her, the thing you owed to her. And you will do it, or die trying.

Emma is the reason you have to keep on living when everything in you feels like giving up. Your daughter needs you. And you had to have faith that you and she would be ok. You remember over hearing Olivia talking about you many months ago. About how she felt sorry for you, because one day you’d wake up and find that your faith had been little more than a cruel cosmic joke. Funny thing was, you felt sorry for Olivia in return, wondering how anyone could be so cynical, could survive with so little faith? How can anyone live with nothing to believe in? And yet still her comments hurt you. And caused you to stop for a moment, to look at your life, to wonder if you were really as pathetic and naïve and foolish as you appeared in her eyes. And now that your life has been completely shattered, you stop to wonder if Olivia had been right. You wonder if she is up there , somewhere, laughing at you. But you want to ask her this question-

Who’s the one left standing, Olivia?

You’re the one still standing at the end of the day. You and Emma. And you have to believe that God would watch over you both. That God had always been watching over you.

You wonder if this is a test from God? Are you supposed to walk away, obey the law, let Emma be? You couldn’t. And if that meant failing God then so be it. It wasn’t in your control anymore. Besides, you weren’t sure you believed God was testing you. You’d been certain God had been doing exactly that with Olivia, testing you, tempting you. You’d been certain you’d done the right thing, choosing Frank. Certain you’d passed the test. You realised only now how completely you failed, failed Olivia, failed Emma, failed yourself. You even realise that you failed God. Because the God you believe in, the God who watches over you, could surely not look at this mess you created and call it a victory.

The events of the past year have undoubtedly cracked your rock solid faith. Shattered your ideals who you were, who you wanted to be. Left you questing everything. How faith, and wanting to do the right thing, could have caused this much destruction and pain? You must have got something terribly wrong along the way. Blindly following what you taught or thought right got you nowhere. Not just you, but Olivia and Emma too. This time, you would follow your heart. And your heart led you straight to Emma.

So for days, you sat and watched, your heart breaking a little more each time the bell rang and she returned back inside the building with her school friends. It had been almost a week. You hesitated because you weren’t sure about the logistics of just how you were going to do this. How much time would you have before a teacher noticed she was missing? And if Emma wasn’t willing to come with you, how would you get her away without causing a scene?

Your hesitation wasn’t entirely about constructing your plan. You were afraid. Emma’s words rang in your ears ‘I hate you.’ Her icy stare cut right through your heart. Like her mother she had put up walls to keep you out, and you knew all too well that trying to break down those walls was futile, you’d only be bashing your head against them. And so you waited. And prayed. You weren’t sure that God was still on your side. But you did it anyway. Prayed you’d be able to get through to Emma. Somehow God would give you the words to reach her. To convince her to come with you.

Aside from the fact it was Olivia’s last wish that you take care of Emma, and aside from the fact that it was killing you to be apart from her, you still wouldn’t have been able to commit a crime like this unless you really believed it was in Emma’s interests. And you did believe it. She wasn’t happy. If you really thought Emma better without you, you like to think you’d turn and walk away. And it had crossed your mind, more than once, that walking away was the best thing to do. That you’d screwed things up with Olivia so badly that you had nothing left to offer Emma. That you couldn’t spend the rest of your life looking into Emma’s eyes and remembering the things that happened. But Emma needed you desperately, and you couldn’t turn and walk away.

You couldn’t be one more person who let her down. You made promises to her, and unlike Olivia, you intended to keep yours. Emma needed her mothers, both of them. And now that Olivia was gone, she needed you all the more. Emma was hurt and angry right now, but that was nothing compared to the damage you’d do if you walked away for good, added yourself to that list of people who had abandoned her, let her down, broken promises. You wondered if Emma would ever get over that? Ever be able to forgive you? Would you ever see that innocent trusting smile on her face?

The other reason you hesitated, was simply because you didn’t know how you would look her in the eyes and tell her that Olivia was never coming home. Tell her that it was your fault, that you should have done something. To tell her that things spun so far out of control, and you sit back and let it happen, and you can’t even understand the reason why you didn’t stop this before it was too late.

You hear Rafe’s voice in your head, telling you this is madness. Telling you that Emma isn’t your child. To let her go. He doesn’t understand. It’s because of him that you know you have to do this. Because he taught you what it is for a mother to love a child. That’s how you love Emma, in that exact same way you love Rafe. Emma is your child every bit as much as Rafe is. No one can tell you otherwise. You feel it in every fibre of your being.

Your heart aches as you think of Rafe. As you realise that, for the moment, taking Emma means leaving him behind. You wanted to let him in on this. But he would only try to talk you out of it. You couldn’t stand to hear it again. And, realising he had failed, you wondered what lengths he would go to stop you? Wondered if you could forgive him if he called the police, had Emma taken from you? If you’d ever look at him the same way? So you kept him in the dark.

It was killing you, leaving him behind. But you remind yourself he did the same thing when he was on the run from the law. And then you remind yourself that he is the child and you the mother. You’re not supposed to leave him behind. He needs you. But Emma needs you more. You owe this to Emma, to Olivia. You couldn’t live with yourself if you didn’t do this last thing for Olivia. Rafe will be fine. Rafe is grown. You’ll call him, when you and Emma are safely away. That has to be enough for now.

Lost in your thoughts you look up and realise that Emma is standing in the school yard staring right at you. You look around making sure no one is watching, and beckon her across the road.

Your daughter obeys you instantly and approaches you. So much like her mother, she isn’t one to run from a confrontation. You had almost expected her to turn, to walk away, run inside the school and tell her teachers that you were trying to abduct her from the school yard. But she does not. She walks towards you slowly, but purposefully. She holds her head high. She looks you straight in the eyes, and if looks could kill that would have been the end of you.

You can’t help the tears in your eyes. You want to hold her so badly. She doesn’t cry, but stands so distant and cold. So much like her mother. And you know that you have to find a way to get through to her. To make things right. This is the second chance that you’ll never have with Olivia.

“Emma.” You manage to say her name finally as you crouch down to meet her at eye level.

You long for her to speak. To say something. Anything. To say ‘Yes, Natalia?’ Spitting your name out so hatefully as she had done in the last words she spoke to you. To even hear her yell and scream and tell you again “I hate you.” At least it would have been something, At least you would have connected with her on some level. But she is silent. Almost still. Taping her foot on the pavement, her gaze never wavering. Waiting expectantly for whatever it is that you are going to say or do.

The cold loneliness in her eyes breaks your heart. But it is also that which gives you strength. You know this is the right thing to do. If you leave her here what will become of the happy carefree loving girl you knew? She is miserable, broken, lost. She needs her mother.

“Emma, I want you to come with me.” You tell her quickly.

She says nothing. Asks no questions. Not ‘why?’ or ‘where?’ or ‘when?’ or ‘why should I?’ She doesn’t nod or shake her head. She doesn’t flinch. She doesn’t looked shocked or confused or relieved or frightened. She just stands there before you, waiting.

“Emma I’m so sorry, for everything. I’m so sorry you mom isn’t here. I’m sorry I had to leave you. But I came back for you, just like I promised I would.. I want us to be together. Because we’re family. And that;s the most important thing.” You’re speaking in a rush now, knowing that the bell is going to ring any minute. Knowing that time is slipping through your fingers. Knowing that you’re probably not making sense to her. Knowing that this few minutes isn’t long enough to tell her all the things you need her to know. And even if you had an eternity you wouldn’t be able to find the words.

You longed for her to speak. But you dread her questions. What had they told her about Olivia? What would you say if Emma asked you ?

Where is mommy?

Is she coming home?

Why isn’t she coming home?

Or when she asks you

Why have we changed our names?

Why can’t I call Rafe?

Why are we hiding from the police?

You had prepared yourself for all her questions. Which isn’t to say you had an answer for her. Just that you were expecting her to ask.

“You must have a lot of questions.” You tell her. Planning to finish with something like ‘You’re just going to have to trust me for now. You’re so young, one day you’ll understand. We’ll talk later, but for now just get in the car, We need to go.’

But she shakes her head, a blank expression on her face. And instead of the barrage of impossible questions you had expected, she stands silently. Still waiting.

The silence is shattered by the piercing sound of she school bell ringing, summoning the children back inside. You look up sharply to see the children begin to vanish inside the building. You know you have only minutes before they notice Emma missing. You know you can’t let her go back inside and tell them that you were hiding in the trees watching her. This is it, your chance. Your one and only chance.

When you return your gaze to your daughter standing before you, you notice that the bell hadn’t startled her. That she hadn’t even glanced over her shoulder to her school yard. She was still standing before you, eyes glued to you.

“Emma.” You said her name again, and reached for her hand.

She steps back away from you instinctively, flinching at your touch. You look up again, at the children disappearing. You imagined Emma with them, filing inside the building. Imagine the back of her head disappearing right before your eyes as she walks away from you without even looking back over her shoulder to wave goodbye. Your heart is racing. You can’t breathe. You look back to Emma, then up to the sky. Praying to God, to Olivia, to Gus. To anyone who would hear you. But answer came their none. You are on your own. And you have to act. Quickly.

You reach forward and take Emma into your arms, so abruptly that she hadn’t time to scream before you clamp your hand over her mouth. She kicks and fights you as you pushed her into the car, more out of fright than because she didn’t want to come with you, or so you tried to tell yourself. You startled her, that was all. You hated the way you pushed her inside the car and locked the door. But you had to do it. Then you got in the car, and drove away faster than you’ve ever driven in your life.
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Chapter 10

Olivia


You hear his footsteps coming towards you, and wonder what he could possibly want. He’s already made his daily visit today. You weren’t expecting him so soon. You’re also weren’t expecting the way he bursts angrily through the door and demands to know:

“Where are they?”

You don’t know what he is talking about. He drags you to your feet and pulls you close, asking you again slowly “Olivia, Where are they?”

His anger is escalating in direct proportion to your confusion. You feel suddenly dizzy standing on your feet. Your legs shake beneath you, how many weeks had it been since your legs had to hold you up? You feel the blood rush from your head. If not for his strong grasp of your shoulders, you know you would have fallen to the ground. But he holds you steady in front of him and asks you again “Where are they?”

You try to answer him, to tell him you don’t know what he is talking about. But he drifts further and further away, and reality drifts with him. Inside your mind you’re back inside that cold dim shed with Natalia and her son.

Rafe is telling his mother that you’re completely insane. He stands there proclaiming it ‘She is completely insane!’ as if Natalia didn’t already know that. Everyone knew that. Even you. It wasn’t news.

He holds his arm close to him, suddenly looking so much more pained than he did in the moments before Natalia arrived in that doorway. He is milking the sympathy for all its worth. She barely looks to you, moving towards him, full of motherly concern.

You’re still holding that knife in your trembling hand. If she sees it, it doesn’t bother her. She isn’t afraid, Not of you, not for you. She isn’t Natalia in that moment, She is just Rafe’s mother. And you can’t blame her for that. You try to imagine it was you who had walked in and found her attacking Emma or Ava with a knife. But it’s beyond your comprehension.

You feel the burning stinging pain across your neck where you had pressed that knife only moments before. With your free hand you reach up and feel the faint scratch you left behind. You clasp your hand over it immediately, to hide it. You feel so exposed, because she is the one person who can see right through you. It takes you a minute to calm down. The minute that you realise she can’t see through you, she can’t even see you, not while her precious boy child is standing there in front of her. You don’t exist.

She is asking him if he is ok, and after the inordinate amount of time it takes her to conclude that his wounds are not lethal, she starts asking for answers. She is asking him, not you. Bug you’re grateful, because you don’t have any answers for her. He looks to you, and for a moment you think he is going to tell her everything. You

wait for him to say the crazy lady attacked him in the shed, wait for him to tell how he found you with the knife at your throat, to tell her just how crazy you are, how much you disrespected the gift of life that Gus gave you, you wait for that fury in her eyes, followed by that pathetic pity, and finally that look that says you’re beyond help, beyond salvation.

But then you realise, Rafe isn’t going to tell her. He thought about it. But decided it was too risky, it would elicit too much of this mothers sympathy and attention for you. And that’s the last thing he wants. You can almost see the wheels turning inside his head, he wants to convince her you’re crazy, a lost cause, but he knows her too well. Knows that her compassion knows no bounds. Not when it comes to you, to Gus’ heart.

He looks to his mother blankly “She just attacked me.” He tells her pathetically.

And even though he is standing there bleeding, and even though you’re standing there with that blood stained knife still in your shaking hand, she doesn’t quite accept this version of events.

“Is that what happened Olivia?” She demands to know. You tell yourself you owe her nothing, least of all an explanation, yet you find yourself telling her, defensively, as if it mattered what she thought, as if you cant stand the way she is looking at you, as if you’d do anything to make it stop.

“He snuck up on me” You protest, and it’s true.

“So you attacked him with a knife?” She asks incredulously. “He is just a boy.”

Now you’re outnumbered, and instantly the walls go up. You defend yourself in the only way you know how. Instead of telling her the truth- that you never meant to hurt him, that you’re horrified to think you actually cut him, that didn’t mean it. Instead of apologising, you find the bitter words escaping your lips “For God’s sake Natalia, It’s just a scratch, He is a big boy. I’m sure he’s endured worse things in prison.”

And Natalia just stands there, silently looking at you, seeking her answers. Without a word she somehow pressures you into speaking again.

“He grabbed me, I didn’t mean to.” You add. It was also true. He startled you. You hadn’t meant to hurt Rafe or anyone else. She seems more satisfied with this answer.

“What were you doing here?” Natalia asks you.

“Just….tidying up the tools.” You tell her, sticking a fake bright smile on your face, your hand still covering the scratch across your neck. You don’t know why you bothered speaking, she knows you’re lying. She hates you for it. You hate her for not understanding, For the way she walks out of there, her son under her arms and leaves you standing in the cold. You know you gave her no choice. You know that moments ago she stood there asking you what happened, asking you what has gotten in to you. You could have answered her. You could have told her the truth. You hate yourself most of all for that.

I don’t want to die

You remember the day you told her that. Remember being shocked by the words as they came from your mouth. Shocked to find yourself confessing them to her and even more shocked to find out how much you really didn’t want to die. And then you think back to all the times you told her the exact opposite, that you wanted to die, that you were going to die, that you simply refused to go on living. You couldn’t expect her to understand what you felt or what you wanted when even you don’t truly know the answer to that anymore.

Suddenly you hear Emma calling from the house. It’s enough to snap you from your self pity, and it almost pulls you to your feet. Until you realise she isn’t calling you, she’s calling for her other mother.

You can still hear someone calling for you, but they aren’t calling you ‘Mommy’, they are calling you by name. It takes a moment to recognise that it’s him, a moment to re orient yourself to your surroundings. He looks to you expectantly,

“Where are they?” He is still asking you that same ridiculous question.

“I don’t know what you’re talking about!” You finally tell him angrily.

“Natalia and your daughter.” He answers.

“What do you mean? Has something happened to them, tell me.” You demand to know.

“No, you tell me Olivia, Where would they go? There are police looking for them all across the country, and no one can find them. Where would they hide?”

You can’t make sense of what he is saying to you. Natalia and Emma have disappeared?

He stops for a moment and that eerie smile creeps back across his face. “Nevermind where they’ve gone. They’ll be back.”

“I doubt it.” You can’t help but say it aloud. You don’t know what is going on, or what Natalia and Emma are running away from, but it makes you smile to think of them together, to think of them hiding away out of everyone’s reach, out of danger.

“They left something behind. And they’ll be back to get it.” He finishes.

It takes you a minute to figure out that he is talking about you. You’re the bait in his trap to Lure Natalia and Emma back.
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