Page 51 of Burning Embers
I shake my head. "No, thanks. I'm driving."
My eyes follow Rachel as she talks to my dad. She's at ease in my space, and I love that, but I also worry about getting too comfortable. I don't want to be another disappointment. She holds in so much, her walls built so high, but it's not hard to see why. I keep replaying the question she asked me.
"What is your biggest fear?"
It was becoming no better than my biological father. A real-life monster, he had no empathy; he was a narcissist. Years of therapy have taught me this. But it's an ugly thing when fear takes root—wondering if it's in my genetic makeup. My mum used to say he wasn't always that way. It didn't make what he did to her, orus, any easier to accept.
"Oliver?"
I turn. "Mum?"
"What's the matter?"
She's always seen right through me, even from the first day they brought me home from the hospital. I tried to pretend everything was all right. Even though I spent over a year in pain every day, I acted as though it was nothing. She knew differently. It's why I won't lie to her now. "I'm worried about getting in too deep. I don't want to hurt her—or Molly. But I can't stay away, either."
She takes me by my arm and leads me into the kitchen. "Olly, you've always been so melancholy. Even when you found a group of friends at school…you always held back a fraction."
"It's not intentional." It's not.
I sit on a barstool, and she sits opposite, reaching for my hands. "I know. The first time you called memum—do you remember that?"
How could I not? I felt so guilty afterwards, I didn't utter another word for three days. "Yes."
"You always felt too much. It's why you are so hard on yourself. Why you over-analyse everything you do. It's why you do what you do, with your charity and at the gym."
She taps the back of my hand, and I glance down at the tattoos along my forearm—the ones which were intended to camouflage my scars—but eventheydon’t make them invisible. "You can't save everyone, Olly. Sometimes you have to save yourself."
I know she means well, but there are things she doesn't know about that night—something I've never admitted to anyone. "I'm not trying to, and besides, you saved me by never giving up on me."
It’s the truth. I know my life would be very different if it weren't for her and my foster family.
"And I never will, no matter what." She stands up. "Now come and give me a hug."
I do as she asks, towering over her, but in her arms, I still feel like the little boy who was bullied because of my burns. "Let's get back out there before dad does something to embarrass me." She laughs into my chest, knowing it's likely already too late.
I scan my family until I find Rachel. Her blush is evident, and I know my brother is likely coming on to her. She looks up, and relief floods her when she spots me. I walk over, reach for her hand. "Mine," I growl.
He lets out a soft chuckle and fake pouts. "Whatever you say, brother."
He turns and walks away. I pull her into my body, oblivious to everyone else around us. "Was he hitting on you?" I ask.
"He was harmless," she replies.
"Yeah, well, I didn't like it."
Cupping my cheek, she stares up at me. It's like she knows how I need to be touched. "Well, as you said, I'myours."
I lean down and give her a chaste kiss, unable to suppress my smile.
Hers.
Chapter Thirty-Four
OLLY
Molly is having a small birthday party today at Sophie’s deli. Rachel invited the children from Molly’s class. I arrive early to help set up, and I smile when I find she’s already here. “I would’ve come earlier.”
She looks over her shoulder and smiles. “It’s okay. I just wanted everything to be perfect.”
