Olivia
"You need to let go of the children. You're going to smother them," my mother urges. "You've been holding onto them for five hours. I think they know you love them, even if they're asleep."
I got home five hours ago. The helicopter trip back to Los Angeles was quiet except for the sound of the helicopter blades. After we landed, Rock drove me home, this time dropping me off at the guest house instead of bringing me into his house.
I didn't even say goodbye to him, and come to think of it, he didn't say goodbye to me either. I wandered into the house, like a zombie or a woman who's in love with the man who has just dumped her because she's a "commitment."
The minute I walked inside, I gathered my children to me, and I haven't let them go since. I don't know why I can't let them g
