CHAPTER 4
1256 Words
Olivia
My parents' home looked like something that crawled out of an Elle Décor Magazine. The living room had several pieces of furniture, including a large white sofa which sat at the center of it all and in front of it a large marble coffee table. On the other side of the room was a glass case showcasing my father's priced book collections, and next to it was my father's favorite painting of a majestic horse.
"Your skin looks dry," my mother examined with critical eyes. She stood across from me, her own skin glowing with a milky opalescent that almost seemed too fake. Her blonde hair was pulled back in a bun, and her eyes did little to hide the disapproval she felt.
"Have you been attending your monthly facial?" she asks, her eyes lingering on my neck.
"Yes, Mother," I reply, forcing a smile.
Good. You're not getting any younger, you know; it's good that you make an effort to maintain your youth. Ever since Kathrine's engagement to Xavier, my mother has made it a habit to constantly remind me that I am aging. Which was ridiculous if you ask me.
"I'm still young," I tell her. I was only twenty-six. There was no need for me to rush into a relationship, especially since I wasn't entirely over Xavier. I couldn't let someone fall in love with me. Knowing I couldn't give myself fully to them. I tried once, but it only ended in heartbreak and sorrow.
"You can't possibly be serious, Olivia; you're almost thirty. You should be thinking about settling down and not dilly-dallying away your time chasing a dream that'll never happen. I mean, just take a look at your sister, and there it was. The comparison. Ever since I was little, it was always, 'Why can't you be more like your sister?' or 'Kathrine did this; why don't you learn from her.' You would think that Kathrine was some type of faultless goddess, the way she spoke about her. My jaw clenched, and I tried my best to remain unaffected by her words.
"She's getting married tomorrow to none other than Xavier Sinclair. Why can't you be more like her and bring someone half as decent as him home? Over the last few months, my mother developed a pattern, or as I liked to call it, the Xavier complex. In her eyes, no one would compare him to Xavier. I learned early on that even if I could miraculously get over Xavier, whoever I brought home would never be good enough.
"That's enough, Dorothy," my father says, emerging from one of the rooms. He offers me a warm smile, and I smile back at him.
"Hey, Dad," I greeted him as he wrapped his arms around me in a hug. Growing up, my father was one of the few people on my side. I could always count on him to defend me from my mother's spiteful words. At the age of sixty, Martin Blackford looked every bit the CEO he was. His brown hair was neatly combed, and he was dressed in one of his men's spring collection outfits. During his lifetime, he had single-handedly built the Eldora from the run-off-the-mill boutique on the side of the road. It was in the 60s to the high-end fashion company it is today.
"I won't have you say another word to our daughter this evening." my mother opens her mouth to object but is met with a stern look from my father. She snaps her mouth shut in a huff before heading toward the kitchen.
"Are you okay?" he asked, causing my cheeks to ache as I forced a smile.
"Why wouldn't I be?" he studied me a moment before giving me a nod.
The door of the living room opened, revealing Kathrine in an ember-colored satin dress, her blonde hair pinned to the side, and by her side, Xavier was there with his hand on her hip. He seemed utterly enamored with whatever my sister was telling him, causing a dull ache to throb in my chest.
I looked away, my eyes connecting with his mother behind him. Avery Sinclair was a small woman with jet-black hair that cascaded down her back in long flowing waves; tonight, she was dressed in a lemon-colored fitted gown, which was a direct blend of her husband's black tuxedo. Her smile widened when her eyes landed on me, causing my chest to tighten.
"Peaches," she called the childhood nickname she had given me, was the only thing she addressed me to even now in my mid-twenties. "It's been forever." She wrapped her arms around me in a hug.
"It's good to see you again, Mrs. Sinclair, I replied, returning the hug.
"You know you're allowed to call me Avery, right?" she says. She had always insisted I call her by her given name, something I always struggled with as a teen. Mia walks in behind her in a pair of pants and a white blouse.
My father and I escort the Sinclairs to the dining room, where the table is already set. I take the empty seat beside Mia while Xavier pulls out a chair for Kathrine.
The dinner conversation is light and fluffy, with both Avery and my mother talking about the wedding. My sister's phone rings, and she fetches it from her bag. Her brows narrow as she stares at the caller's ID.
"Excuse me, I have to take this," she says, and leaves the table.
"So, Olivia, has anything exciting happened in your life lately?" Avery says, causing everyone to redirect their attention to me. The food in my mouth suddenly seems too tough to swallow.
"Actually, I recently auditioned for a role in a movie that's shooting in LA," I say.
"And I got the part." Congratulations erupted from everyone at the table except Xavier, who was looking at me with an expression I couldn't read.
"That's wonderful, liv," Mia says, wrapping her arms around me in a half hug. I grinned and thanked her.
"So when do you leave?" Xavier's deep voice cuts through the haze of congratulations. I swallow
"Two days after the wedding," I respond, taking another bite out of my lasagna.
"Two days" my mother choked. That's too soon. No, you aren't going"she says, leaving no room for no argument.
"Dorothy..." my father tries to speak up, but my mother gives him a look that shuts him up.
"I'm not about to let my daughter go halfway across the country to chase some dream," she says, the word dream like the thought of me dreaming was unacceptable.
"With all due respect," Xavier began, causing my mother to pause. Olivia has the right to make her own decisions. My mother's face flushes as she says
I think I know what's best for my daughter, Mr. Sinclair, she responds.
I think you should let your daughter make her own decisions. She isn't a child, Xavier said, causing my mother's face to turn even redder than it was. She opens her mouth to say something, but I use that opportunity to interject.
"Mother, leave it; I'll tell Carl to turn down the audition," I said. My mother lets out a huff but doesn't say anything further. I looked at Xavier, who was looking at me with a mix of concern and something else. Kathrine returns and takes her seat beside Xavier.
"What did I miss?" she asks, and I resist the urge to say everything. You missed everything.
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