Page 60 of Pieces Into Place

When I pull away, she takes my face in her hands and looks kindly into my eyes. “Olivia,” she says softly, “I am so happy you’re here.” Then she pulls me back in for another embrace and something happens. I short circuit. All of the built-up loneliness from not having felt any parental love or acceptance in so long releases like an avalanche inside me, and I burst into tears without control. But instead of pushing me away or letting go, she holds me tight against her chest, allowing me to release it all and comforting me.

When I finally muster the strength to pull away, I notice Kane and his dad sharing a perplexed look.

“Wyatt,” Millie says, “I think we’ll have barbecued chicken and tri-tip for dinner tonight. Why don’t you and Kane go pick it up from the store?” Wyatt’s face morphs into confusion.

“But you said you were making pasta?” he questions.

“And now I’m not,” she retorts with a slight tilt of her head. “You and Kane will be barbecuing so that I can spend some time with Olivia.”

Kane steps forward, wraps his arms around my waist and lightly tugs me closer. “Are you going to be okay?” His voice is tender yet laced with concern.

I smile in response before nodding my head. Even though this is his childhood home, he would whisk me away in a minute if he sensed anything amiss.

He leans in, gently nuzzling my nose with his own before planting a chaste kiss on my lips. “I’ll be back soon.”

“OK,” I murmur while stealing a glance at Millie, whose face is imprinted with thoughtful curiosity.

Once they leave, Millie motions for me to follow her into the living room. I sink into the soft cushions of the couch and tug a blanket around my shoulders against the slight chill in the air. She hands me a steaming mug of tea, and I settle back, comforted by its warmth.

“My son loves you,” Millie says suddenly, and I feel a rush of surprise.

“Yes,” I reply with a smile. “I love him, too.”

“I know,” she says softly. “He looks at you like he’s never looked at anyone before.”

I pause, staring at her incredulously. “Really?”

She nods slowly. “Kane has always been very tough, almost like he had to be,” she says sadly. “But underneath it all, he has a really good heart and he’s given that to you.”

“I will never take it for granted,” I whisper.

“I know,” she says thoughtfully. “Has he told you anything about his father? Theo?”

My heart begins to beat wildly in my chest at her words. I want to jump up and run away. I don’t want to face this; face the hurt and anger in her eyes when she blames me for what happened to someone she loved; the father of her first child. But, instead, I stay. I sit and listen, because I love Kane, and if this needs to happen in order for us to clear the air and move on, so be it.

“A little,” I reply.

“I think it’s important that we talk about him,” she says, extending her arm, and I feel the warmth of her hand as it wraps around mine. “It’s not your fault.”

My mouth opens slightly in surprise and I shake my head slowly to make sure I haven’t misheard her.

“Olivia,” she says with her voice unwavering, “Listen to me. What happened is not your fault.”

The lump in my throat grows larger, but eventually I manage to say, “I’m just so sorry for your family. He took so much away from Kane.”

“He took things away from a lot of people.” She pulls her legs onto the couch and folds them beneath her, holding a cup of steaming tea between her palms as she breathes out heavily before saying softly, “I actually think it’s very poetic. You’re both victims of the same crimes, brought together by those very circumstances at a time in your lives when you’re ready for one another. Personally, I think this was fated from the beginning.”

I stare at her in shock. “You do?”

“Yes, I do,” she assures me, her voice full of emotion. She picks up a framed picture from the end table and hands it to me. It’s a photo of a man who looks strikingly similar to Kane, embracing a little girl with joyous laughter. “I took that on the day I met him,” she informs me, her eyes twinkling.

“Kane looks so much like him,” I say in awe.

“He does,” she affirms as she takes the frame back from me.

I take a deep breath before asking the question that has been on my mind since I first walked into this home. “Do I remind you of him? My uncle?”

Without hesitation, she shakes her head confidently. “Not one bit. The beauty of your spirit shines through so clearly. The only thing I see when I look at you is a young woman deeply in love. I’m so happy for you and Kane,” she says seriously. “Who we are related to is just random chance. It’s not who we are. One thing about this life is that you get to choose who you want to be and who you want to surround yourself with – that is your family.”