Nervous butterflies erupted in my belly. What could she want to talk to me about? Did she hate me too, because my mother was married to her ex-husband?
I went to the bathroom and washed my hands without thought as worry ate away at my insides. You couldn’t tell me you had something to talk about and then walk away like that. What if she told me I needed to leave? Could I, given everything that had happened with Royal last night?
I exited the bathroom and contemplated changing my clothes. Was there a point? I was pretty sure she already knew what happened and it would probably just make it more obvious if I did.
“Oh get in here, girl. I’m not going to bite,” she laughed, and it made me smile. It was such a warm and inviting laugh. I shuffled across the floor and over to the small island. A glass of piping hot coffee was placed in front of me.
“I’m sorry. I’m just nervous. I’ve never done this whole meet the parents thing,” I confessed, taking a sip of the hot goodness. The small sip caused my senses to erupt and my body to shiver. Coffee was so fucking good.
“Oh, it’s okay, sweetheart. I’ve only ever done it once myself, with Royal’s father.” I bit at my lip wondering where this was going.
“You said you wanted to talk?”
“Yes. I wanted to let you know that I don’t blame you or have any harsh feelings toward you. I don’t think ill of you in light of what happened.” I was puzzled. I mean I know Mark left her for my mother, but why would she blame me?
“What are you talking about?” I questioned.
“I’m talking about Viviana, of course. Everything your mother did to ruin my marriage. The lies and the secrets. You’re aware that your mother claimed Mark was your father when you were born, right? You aren’t, of course, which we all know now. She said she had sex with Mark at a business convention but she didn’t. It was all a trap. She laced his drink so that he would pass out and she could set it up to appear like they slept together.” I blinked and coughed as the coffee that was in my mouth slid down the wrong hole. The liquid burned the entire way down my throat and my eyes began to tear from my coughing. I needed that burn; I needed it because I desperately wanted to scream out loud because of the things my mother did.
“I…” What could I say to Olivia that wasn’t already said? I understood all of it now. Why my mother was so hateful toward me, why her and Mark acted more like roommates than a married couple. Why Royal wanted to hate me and why he really did hate my mother.
“I’m sorry,” I spoke the words with honesty. I was so sorry for the things that my mother did to all of us.
“No, I’m sorry. I didn’t know that you had no idea. I thought Royal would have told you when he found out.” Hurt overwhelmed me. How long did he know? Months or days?
“I didn’t know that she did those things to you and your family. I somehow feel as if I’m intruding now,” I laughed nervously, feeling out of my element.
“You’re not leaving, Noelle.” Royal’s sleepy voice met my ears causing me to jump up out of seat. Coffee sloshed over the rim of my cup.
“Crap.” I clutched at my chest and quickly reached for the napkins sitting in the center of the table.
“Just because your mom is a raging bitch, doesn’t mean that you are. You’re nothing like her. Nothing. If you were I wouldn’t be so in love with you.” He placed a kiss against my forehead, and then walked over to his mother and wrapped her up in his arms. She sank into him the same way I did. Like she needed him to live.
“I wasn’t going to leave. I just didn’t know because you never told me. I don’t want to be a reminder of the pain.” My mom’s hate toward me made so much more sense now.
“You’re a reminder of the good that comes from evil.” Olivia spoke before Royal could. “We can’t hate you for someone else’s actions.” The sentence she spoke reminded me of the words I said to my mom before Royal came. We couldn’t judge someone based on their past. A checkered past didn’t make for a bad person. It just meant that somewhere along the lines you veered off track.
“I didn’t know she trapped him. I was never under the impression that Mark was my father. I love Mark like a stepdad, and he has always taken care of me but that’s it.” I didn’t know why I was defending myself when I knew that I didn’t have too.
“Stop. It’s okay.” Olivia’s voice soothed me like a salve over a bleeding wound. She was everything my own mother wasn’t. Sweet. Sincere. Loving. Things that I craved in my own mother for years.