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“Oliver, can we talk when everyone walks off?”
My question hangs in the air for a second before he nods, and we continue forward until the fire comes into view. I’m about to say something to Ella, to let her know where I’ll be when Oliver grabs my hand and starts leading me away from the group.
“I actually need to get something off my chest too.” His tone is far more serious than the usual casual flare he possesses.
He wipes his hands against his shorts before looking past me at Lake Michigan.
“Okay.”
Oliver lets out a nervous breath before bringing his eyes to mine. There’s something in there I’m trying to piece together. Where is his head at right now? Oliver has always worn his emotions on his sleeve, but tonight, there’s nothing there.
“I need to see my friend again. I want to apologize to them before moving on.”
Apologize?
“Why do you need to apologize?” My brain starts to file through my memories from back then. Nothing is popping up.
“A few days before CPS took them away. My friend told me they were scared because their dad might hit them.”
The memories flood back. That night, my parents were arguing, and my dad was angrier than normal. I should have shut myself into my room that night, but some part of my head thought maybe Dad would like me more if I comforted him.
It was all a mistake. My presence irritated him even more. Maybe part of the fantasy was me still trying to convince myself it wasn’t me that drove my parents to the edge, but Damian threatened his own child.
A few days later, Child Protective Services showed up to ask questions, and my birth parents didn’t even try to lie to them. Just like that, I wasn’t their kid anymore.
Oliver’s eyes stay on me, almost studying my reaction before continuing. “I was so scared for them. I thought it would be a wake-up call for their parents, but it wasn’t. They took my friend, and that’s what’s been holding me back.”
Before I can even think, I’m saying, “Thank you.” Tears prick my eyes. “Thank you.”
“S—”
Cutting him off, my lips connect to his. It only takes a moment before he’s kissing me back, trying to deepen the kiss. His nervous hands from before wrap around my waist, pulling me further into his body.
“Thank you so much,” I whisper, pushing my face into his chest with one last inhale like this might be the last time I get to smell him. “You saved me. You were always my hero. Even in the end, it stayed true. Because of you, I was able to find my real family.”
I look up, seeing the swirl of emotions clouding his sea-green eyes before pulling away. This is the true test of our relationship.
“Oliver, that was?—”
“I know,” he says before hanging his head, avoiding my gaze. I need him to look at me. I need to feel his gaze on me, even if it's full of anger.
“When did you find out?” It's the only question on my mind right now.
“I read one of the letters your mom wrote to you.” Oliver sounds almost ashamed that he read them, but I can’t be mad at him for it. I’ve been lying to him for the past two months.
“Oliver—”
“Look who it is!”
My stomach drops at the nauseating voice I hate more than anything. With whatever strength I can muster, my head turns to see an obviously drunk Dalton standing a few feet away from us.
I was so consumed in the moment with Oliver that I didn’t even notice his approach.
“Dalton, what are you doing here?”
“Dalton?” Oliver growls, and I curse myself for saying his name. “This is Dalton?”
“Oh, she told you about me.” He sounds content with himself. “Did she also tell you she’s actually a dude?”
