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Oliver slows down, stopping in front of the tall iron gates with the initials E.C. The home had belonged to my great-great-grandfather, Elias Carmichael, and he passed it on through the generations. My father, despite his controlling behavior, couldn’t control the one thing he desperately wanted—a son to call his own who would carry the name.
“It’s a beautiful property,” Oliver says.
“It looks like a jail.”
I remember staring out my bedroom window as a young child, oblivious to the world I would grow up in. I’d spend countless hours gazing at the luscious green lawns, perfectly manicured thanks to our team of gardeners and my mother’s obsession with maintaining this property. I thought it was all beautiful.
I would look at the sky, see the purity of the untouched clouds, and dream about things that made me happy. But then, I grew older and wiser. I began to see my father for who he was—a dictator, a man possessed by image and wealth, and my mother followed his trail and mimicked his footsteps.
“So when do I get to meet the family?”
I turn to face him, torn between the need to go inside and tell my father I’m done with his hold over me or just running away and forgetting this life exists.
“I can’t… I can’t…” I blurt, panicked.
Oliver rests his hand on mine. “I was just kidding. I’d probably need to get you in bed first and see if you’re worth the hassle.”
A smile escapes, and a bit of tension releases. “I don’t think I can go in there.”
“Then don’t. No one’s holding a gun to your head.”
“Then where do I go?”
Oliver starts the engine, throwing the car into reverse. “We can pull a Thelma and Louise right now. The world is our oyster, baby.”
My stomach erupts into laughter, the very thought of Oliver dressed as Louise has me in stitches.
“Do I want to know how you’ve even seen that movie?” I laugh.
“A mother obsessed with Susan Sarandon, a father infatuated with Geena Davis, and two sisters. That’s how.”
“I might be a drama queen at times, but by all measures, we can take it down a notch. How about we go somewhere? There’s something I would love to show you.”
He smiles, running his thumb against my bottom lip. “Lead the way, Gabs.”
Eighteen
Oliver
We stand in the long, brightly painted corridor staring at the large monument carved in gold.
The statue resembles a child, a wide smile etched into its face. As I lower my head, I read the inscription on the plaque. It references the opening of the children’s cancer wing inside the hospital we’re standing in.
“Your name,” I say, continuing to read while processing my thoughts. “You opened this wing?”
Gabriella silently runs her hands along the foot of the statue, with a reflective smile. There’s an aura surrounding her. She appears at ease with her thoughts unlike the usually troubled woman I have grown accustomed to.
“When I left college, I began working on foundations and charities with my mother.” Her expression alters between a graceful smile to one of sadness. “My mother does it to make herself look good. She couldn’t care less about the goodwill and charitable cause. Everything with her is about upholding the Carmichael name.”
“She sounds splendid,” I sneer.
“About two years ago, one of the heart surgeons who often donated sizable amounts of money for our events had a son. He was diagnosed with leukemia at the age of five. Dr. Chan and his family were always contributing, and I felt helpless, wanting desperately to help them because time was of the essence. So, I put together the biggest charity ball in the county and called every associate of my father’s to attend and donate. We raised enough money to open this wing to make it as comfortable for children and their families while they went through chemotherapy.”
I’m shocked, unable to put words together to express how amazing this woman is for bringing this all to life to help families in need. During our time together, she never once mentioned in detail what she did back home, almost as if she purposely kept it a secret due to being ashamed. Far from reality. She should be fucking shouting this from the rooftops.
“You did this? Opened the wing… this hospital wing?”
“Yes, I mean, not my money, but yes. It was a hard year and a lot of work, but the reward outweighs it.”
