Chapter Thirty-Three* — Maya

Three Years Later

I managed to disappoint my Dad after all. At first he was devastated that I wasn’t going to become a plastic surgeon like he was. I explained to him that working with people like Larissa who needed to keep updating their face to feel validated as a person wasn’t for me.

And also, there was no way in hell I was working alongside Gerard. He was fast becoming Dad’s protégé and the two of them spent hours discussing the intricacies of performing surgery that would be undetected by the naked eye. More power to them, but that wasn’t how I wanted to spend my life.

“Why would anyone want to be a clinical psychologist, working with depressed people who wander aimlessly through life?” My father’s lips pursed together and I knew he was referring to my mother. Anger boiled up under my skin, threatening to burst out, but I managed to stay calm—until Gerard put in his two cents worth.

“People who hear voices and self harm are the dregs of society. Shit, it would drive me nuts to work with people who felt the need to do that.” The horror in his voice was unmistakable.

Uncontrollable rage filled my body at how these two seemingly intelligent men could be so judgmental without knowing anything about what it felt like. I understood how it felt to be unwanted. To be left behind, deserted by the people you depended on most.

Neither my father nor Gerard had ever seen the marks on my body. Never knew what I’d been through. Only two people knew about that. And he’d left my life without a proper goodbye or explanation.

The night Oliver had walked out and left me standing there, dumbfounded and questioning what I’d done to deserve him leaving me, again, was also the night I’d told Gerard in front of both our families that I was not his girlfriend and never would be.

“I'm focusing on my studies for the next few years. No distractions. Definitely no boyfriends,” I’d said, my world falling apart as I tried to keep my shit together.

The weird thing was that the person who supported me most was Larissa. She’d stepped forward and placed her arm around my shoulders. “Maya's right. She’s so young; boys shouldn’t be her priority right now.”

I’d sucked in a breath, giving her a grateful smile. She nodded and smiled, but it didn’t reach her eyes that brimmed with tears. Did she know about Oliver and me? She never said anything, not even after that night, yet I had a feeling she suspected something.

We were getting along much better lately, but my stepmom still wasn’t on my go-to list of favorite people. Sometimes I’d find her in Oliver’s bedroom, just staring at a picture of him or holding one of the t-shirts he’d left behind.

Shortly after he’d left me standing in the hallway, I’d gone upstairs to assess the damage. Most of his belongings were exactly where they’d always been. All that was missing was a family photo of all four of us at lunch last Thanksgiving. It was one of the few pictures that had both of us in it; the exact replica stood on a table in my bedroom. Every night before I went to sleep, I’d kiss my fingertips and place it on the glass over his face.

How I longed for that time. I'd give anything to turn back the clock and do things differently—I would’ve told my stepbrother how I felt about him. But I'd never gotten the chance, and now I never would.

*****

Larissa stood in the doorway of my bedroom, staring at me. The room was spinning and my vision had become blurry. “Oliver’s hooked up with Bianca in Denmark?” I repeated to make sure I’d hear right.

That bitch still had her claws in my stepbrother. Images of them fucking the way they used to years ago made me feel sick to my stomach.

She nodded and came to stand next to the desk I was studying at for final exams. “He said he’s thinking of asking her to marry him over Christmas.” Her voice sounded a million miles away. I held on to my stomach and slouched forward—I was going to throw up all over Larissa’s new shoes.

Stunned when my stepmother reached out and took hold of both of my shoulders, I looked up at her. “That bad, huh?” she said.

“What do you mean?” I was fighting to keep the contents of my stomach inside. My skin had gone ice cold and clammy, yet I felt a shiver run up my spine.

“You and Oliver.”

“Larissa, don’t play games with me. What are you suggesting?”

A smile tugged at her lips. “I’ve never seen my son love anyone as much as you. Including me or his father.”

“Wh . . . what?” Bewildered, I searched her face for signs of mockery. There wasn’t any.

“You’re his little bee. He’s been obsessed with you, Maya. And eventually, he grew to love you. Only I doubt either of you saw it coming.”

“He . . . what?” Love was a strong word. No way in hell did Oliver King love me. It was impossible.

“You had no idea, did you? You were too busy fighting your own love for him.”

How the hell had the woman who’d always been so self possessed become so knowledgeable on my and her son’s feelings. Usually she was so wrapped in her own little bubble that she was oblivious to the rest of the world.

“The two of you are drawn to one another like I was to Oliver’s dad.” She hesitated for a long moment before she continued. “He . . . he was my stepbrother too. Only, it didn’t end well for us. Michael’s death wasn’t an accident. He committed suicide. He never really accepted that it was okay for us to be together.”

Her eyes misted over and her voice sounded strained. She clutched her pearls the way she always did when she was distressed.

“I’m sorry. I never knew,” I offered. I never had a clue what to say in situations like these. Sorry seemed so lame. But there it was, the best I could come up with.

Clearing her throat, she blinked her eyes fast before continuing. “He started drinking and sleeping around with younger girls. Much younger girls. Some barely legal . . . if that.” Her cheeks had turned pink and her hands were trembling slightly. “I tried everything to make him love me again—tried  to look young so he wouldn’t fuck those little whores.” The look of guilt and anguish on her face tugged at my heart. “Nothing worked. He drove his car straight into a tree, Maya. He killed himself because he couldn’t deal with it.”

I swallowed hard, blinking back my own tears. So this was why Oliver was so fucked up. Why he kept making remarks about being tainted that I couldn’t understand. It wasn’t his fault. None of it.

“Larissa, oh my God, nobody should have to go through that,” I said, taking her hand in mine and leading her toward the bed so she could sit down. I sat beside her, squeezing her hand in mine.

“Alec . . . I met your father when I was at the lowest point in my life, the darkest nights of my existence, not trusting my own self worth because of my husband’s behavior. Alec wasn't just my plastic surgeon, he also became my friend.”

She smiled up at me, genuine adoration in her eyes when she spoke of my Dad. “After we were married, Alec assured me I was beautiful and refused to do more work on me. I never believed him. I was getting older, things were getting saggy. So I went elsewhere to get my fix of botox and the knife. Of course he was aware of what was going on. I mean, the man is one of the best plastic surgeons in the country and I went to his colleagues for help. Ironic, huh? And being the stellar man that he is, Alec never said anything because he knew that I was still hurting inside. That I needed it. Only he wouldn’t be the one doing it. Every time I got back from a visit to LA, I saw the hurt in his eyes, but I told myself that I was doing it for him.”

I was proud of my dad for understanding her needs, but I still didn’t like that she was hurting him. “Dad’s good like that. He has a good heart.”

“Yes, he is. When I lost Michael, we became even closer; both our spouses had left us by taking their own lives. Alec helped me more than I can ever tell you. Your father is a wonderful man.”

I scrunched my nose up. “How did you pay for it all?”

“The stuff I had done in LA? I had some money from the insurances when Michael died. And Oliver. He gave me a loan from his inheritance from his grandparents. They were very wealthy. He got it all when he turned eighteen.”

“Oliver’s rich?” I gasped. He never flaunted it. Sure, he dressed well and had beautiful watches and a nice car, but he never bragged or flashed his wealth around.

Larissa nodded. “He’s not a multimillionaire, but he’s sitting on some pretty large stocks. He bought his own place in LA when he turned twenty, even though he was studying. Mostly he stayed away from here because he didn’t know how to handle his feelings for you.” There was no bitterness or anger in her voice, she was simply stating what she believed was a fact.

I shook my head, unable to absorb it all. “You and I have different recollections about my childhood then. As far back as I can remember, Oliver has hated me and made my life a living hell. And he had Bianca . . . and other women. It doesn’t make sense.”

Larissa laughed softly, her eyes sparkling with amusement. “For the same reason you baked brownies and bought new clothes whenever you knew he was coming. You were besotted by Oliver.”

“Besotted? Hell no, I hated him. He was so mean to me.”

She patted my hand reassuringly. “All a cover, my dear girl. Because he didn’t want to go the same route his father had. He thinks Michael was weak. And in some ways he was. Michael refused to fight for us. He let everyone else’s opinions matter more than us.”

“Oliver knew?” I breathed. “About the two of you? That you were stepsiblings?”

She wrung her hands together. Her expression was pained. “Yes. It caused the biggest family scandal; people called us names, said we were living in sin, and that our child was from the devil himself. People are cruel, Maya. They never consider what their words can do to another person.” 

I nodded. I'd seen it over and over again, and I hadn’t been around that long. My heart ached for her, and especially for Oliver. He was just a boy. Why would people label him like that? No wonder he was so fucking angry all the time. I had no idea he’d been through shit like that. All that time I hated him for being mean to me, he was simply taking it out on me to hide his own grief.

“Oliver has been through a lot then. I think I’m finally starting to understand him better. Why he did some of the things—I ] wish he’d told me. I could have been his friend.”

“He is way too stubborn for that. He didn’t want to care for you, my dear.” She shifted uncomfortably on the bed, casting her eyes to the floor.

“What?” I murmured, bracing myself.

“I was so ashamed when Oliver found out that his father slept with girls his own age. Subconsciously, I think maybe I thought I could have stopped that from happening. If I looked younger, or prettier, his father wouldn’t have strayed. Ultimately wouldn’t have wrapped himself around a damn tree.”

I grabbed hold of Larissa and pulled her closer, hugging her as she sobbed.

“It's not your fault, Larissa.  You were dealt a cruel hand,” I said. I was beginning to understand Larissa a lot better—why she was so damn obsessed with how she looked to the point of absurdness. She was hiding her insecurity behind her looks. I couldn’t help pitying her a little. Because my father was right, she was a beautiful woman in her own right. She didn’t need all the surgery she’d become addicted to.

“Thanks. I try to remind myself of that. I just don’t want Alec to go the same way. And I want you and Oliver to be happy.”

I sucked in a breath. “So you didn’t hate me, then?”

“God, no. The reason I wanted you out of the house isn't what you think; I wanted you to fall in love with someone else. But it was too late. There was already something between you and my son. I never wanted either of you to go through what I had. It ate me alive. People’s nastiness and bullying can destroy lives. Throwaway comments can cause suicide. That’s why I think what you are studying is so helpful to others and why I support you.”

Larissa reached out and took hold of both my hands, pushing my shirtsleeves up. Her thumbs caressed softly over my wrists. “I've known about these for a long time. Although the scars have healed on your skin, the scars in your heart are still there, haunting you.”

My gaze met hers. For the first time we really connected.

“Does Daddy know?” I held my breath, waiting for her answer.

“Yes,” she whispered. “Oliver told us after it happened. He was beside himself.”

What?

My mouth hung slightly open as I tried to absorb it. Oliver told them and then blackmailed me into sex with him for the very thing he’d already disclosed? Why would he do that? It didn’t make sense.

“He never said he’d told you. He said it was or secret.” I couldn’t keep the disbelief out of my voice.

“He made us promise to watch you all the time. That’s when your father installed security cameras around the house. It was all Oliver’s idea. He was terrified you’d try it again and that he wouldn’t be there to find you.”

“Daddy . . . you . . . if you knew, why didn’t anyone say anything?”

Her hands smoothed over her skirt. “Oliver was convinced he could help you. That’s when he decided to move back to Santa Barbara, even though he’d said he hated the place. He wanted to be closer to you. Of course he didn’t tell your father that. But I understood what was going on.”

With my fist I rubbed large circles over my heart to ease the ache that settled there. “What should I do, Larissa? Help me, please. I love Oliver so fucking much it hurts.”

Her eyes widened. “Oh dear, I never thought you’d admit that. That’s the first step.” She paused, tilting her head to look at me for a long moment. “What do you want, Maya? How do you want your life to be?”

I didn’t hesitate for a second. “With Oliver. Wherever he is. However he is. Just as long as I’m with him, that’s all that matters. He can't marry Bianca. It has to be me. I love him with all my heart and soul.”

“Oliver’s little bee.” She smiled. “Those are strong words. Your love will be tested. There will be people who know your history and will look down on you. I never knew when I agreed to marry your father that it could affect you and my son like this—I didn’t think he’d fall for you the way he has. He always went for blondes, like Bianca. I thought you were safe.”

Her words rattled me. My head was spinning with all the new information I’d just learned. Sometimes nothing was as it seemed. Our reality was so different than what we showed the outside world.

“It's not your fault, Larissa. None of it. Not what happened to Michael, or me, or Oliver. Now that you’ve told me, I understand you so much better. I get where your insecurity comes from—and I don’t blame you at all.”

“Thank you,” she breathed, her eyes misty.

It still didn’t solve my problem with Oliver. How could I stop him from making the biggest mistake of his damn life?

“Go to Oliver. Talk to him,” she said as if she had read my mind.

“Go to Denmark? I—I can't. What if Bianca is there? What if Oliver rejects me?”

Larissa cocked her head, a small smile twisting the corners of her lips. “How much do you love my son, Maya? Is he worth fighting for?”

I nodded, tears streaming down my cheeks. I swallowed the burning lump in my throat. “I love him so much. I just had a hard time admitting it. I've tried everything to resist it, but I just can't shake him. I’d give my life for that man.”

Larissa rose to her feet. “I’ll make the arrangements. Bring him back home, Maya. He belongs here with us. We can finally be a real family.”

I blinked fast. Larissa was helping me?

How things had changed.