His Dangerous Love On Ice (Olivia and Zane) novel Chapter 103

OLIVE’s POV

“What do you want?” I asked, not bothering with pleasantries.

“These are for you.” He held out the flowers awkwardly. “Well, technically they’re from Zane, but since you’ve been ignoring his calls he asked me to deliver them.”

I stared at the flowers like they might explode. “You’re playing delivery boy for my boyfriend now?”

“He’s worried about you,” Walter said. “And honestly so am I, because your mother called me yesterday and spent thirty minutes screaming about how I’ve corrupted you and ruined your life and-”

“The underground club, about Zane being involved with it, about everything.” He ran a hand through his hair. “She somehow found out and now she’s acting like I’m the worst person on earth, like this is all my fault even though we’ve been divorced for years and I had been lying to her about everything fight from the start.”

“Because you did, you lied to her, to us, to everyone. It feels like don’t know who you are. So you can’t blame her, can you?” I said, the words coming out sharper than I intended.

“That’s not-” He stopped, jaw tightening. “Look, can you just take the flowers? I promised Zane I’d deliver them and I really don’t need more people being angry at me right now.”

“More people?” I laughed, bitter. “Oh, so now you’re the victim? Now everyone’s being mean to poor Walter who just wants to be left alone?”

“I didn’t say that,” he protested.

“You didn’t have to.” I took the flowers just to have something to do with my hands. “It’s always the same with you, everyone else is the problem, everyone else is making your life difficult, when really you’re just scared of actually being responsible for anything.”

“That’s not fair,” Walter said.

“Isn’t it?” I ripped open the card attached to the flowers, reading ane’s handwriting. ‘I’m sorry. Please call me. We need to talk.’

“You know what’s really funny? When I have issues with Zane, it somehow becomes your problem. When mom has issues with you, it becomes my problem. When anyone in this fucked up family has any kind of conflict, it all circles back to you being the center of attention.”

“I’m not trying to-”

“And now here you are, delivering flowers like you’re doing me some huge favor, when really you’re just trying to make yourself feel better about being a shitty father.”

The words were pouring out now and I couldn’t stop them.

“Do you even realize that? Do you understand that everything you do is about making yourself feel less guilty instead of actually fixing anything?”

“Olive, that’s enough-

“No!” My voice cracked. ‘It’s not enough, because you know what I’m tired of pretending. I’m tired of acting like it doesn’t bother me that you disappeared from my life the second things got hard”

“I didn’t disappear,” Walter said, but his voice was weak.

“You did though.” I could feel tears burning behind my eyes but I refused to let them fall. “After Klaus died, after we had to watch him die, you couldn’t even look at me anymore. You and mom both just… cast me aside like I was the problem. Like I was a reminder of what you lost.”

“That’s not what happened,” Walter said, but he wouldn’t meet my eyes.

“Then what did happen?” I demanded. “Because from where I was standing, my brother died and suddenly I became invisible. You divorced mom, moved away, started a whole new life with a new wife, and I was just supposed to what? Be fine with it? Pretend it didn’t hurt that you could replace us so easily

“I didn’t replace anyone,” Walter said, finally looking at me. “I was trying to survive. We were all trying to survive after Klaus

“Don’t.” I held up a hand. “Don’t say his name like you have the right to mourn him when you couldn’t even be bothered to help me mourn him. I was thirteen, dad. Thirteen years old and traumatized and you just… left.”

“Your mother and I both thought it would be better-”

“Better for who?” I interrupted. “For you? Because it definitely wasn’t better for me. Do you know what it’s like to lose your brother and then lose your father because he can’t stand to look at you anymore? To feel like you’re such a burden that your own parent would rather start over than deal with you?”

“Olive, I never thought you were a burden,” Walter said quietly.

“Then why did you leave?” My voice broke. “Why did you let mom send me away from you? Why did you build this whole new life where I didn’t exist except for awkward birthday cards and occasional guilt-driven phone calls? But you have to give your new family the best vacations every month.

“Because I didn’t know how to handle it,” Walter admitted, and for the first time he sounded genuinely vulnerable. “Because every time I looked at you I saw Klaus and it hurt too much. Because I was a coward who couldn’t deal with his own grief so I ran away from everyone who reminded me of it.”

The honesty of it caught me off guard, made my anger falter for just a second before it came roaring back stronger than before.

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