the one working to bring money home to pay for the trailer, to pay the bills, to make us all food.”
“How old were you?” she whispers.
“Too young to be taking care of a baby. That’s for sure.”
“I’m sorry, Roman. I wish…God, I wish you could’ve had a different life.”
“I’ve always been good about blocking people out and focusing on the important things. While trying to keep us fed and alive, I was caught dealing, did some juvie time, and lost my brother. My druggie mother didn’t fight for him either, so by the time I got out, it took me a while to locate him in the system. Even then, no matter how hard I tried, I kept finding myself back in the system. An eighteen-month stint in jail, here or there, for petty shit. When I eventually saw where he was, I vowed to take care of him. To do the one thing my mother never did.”
“But it wasn’t that easy,” she supplies, a knowing, saddened tone to her voice.
“No, it wasn’t. I had to jump through all these hoops, prove I could take care of him, even though I’d already done it most of our lives. I’ve taken care of him since I was a kid. I’ve been taking care of both of us, for as long as I can remember. When kids my age were making friends and playing sports, I was raising an infant. I’ve spent the last year and half getting my life on track, starting with buying a house and working a full-time job with benefits.”
“Wow. That’s…that’s the most selfless thing I’ve ever heard.”
As if sensing I need some extra compassion, Max gets up from his bed and sits down next to me, resting his head in my lap. Tightness spreads through my chest. Olivia rubs her slender fingers between his eyes and trails them up behind his ears, in a massaging motion.
“That night, a while back, you mentioned something about Max’s name.” I look down at him and only think of Ryder. “He was my little brother’s. He found him a while back. His foster family wouldn’t let him keep a dog, and he seemed sad, so I told him I’d keep him. I’d take care of him till he could come home, then he’s all his. He chose the name Mad Max.”
Slowly, Olivia glances up at me, her hazel eyes filled with unshed tears. “You’re something else entirely. You know that?”
A grin tugs at the corners of my lips. We share a moment when we’re just looking at each other. There’s a sudden shift in the air. Her cheeks redden, and she quickly averts her gaze.
“So, this is what you do in here all day, while you’re ignoring me? You work on this car?”
A laugh catches in my chest. “Pretty much. It helps me clear my head.”
She stands, and I can’t help but watch her, as she takes in everything. She touches the car, and it’s a stark difference from the last time we were in here together, and I snapped at her. I didn’t even mean to do it then. It just happened. Olivia always has a way of making me feel out of place, out of my comfort zone. It was easier to be mean and force her out of my space than it was to welcome her in. It still feels odd. I haven’t let anyone in—in any capacity of my life—in the past five years. But here with her? It feels easy.
“What about you?” I raise a single brow. “What’s your story? You seem to have it all figured out.” I lean back on the bucket, resting my back against the wall, watching her closely, as she walks through my space. My safe haven.
“Me?” She scoffs, shaking her head. “Not even close. Can I be honest?”
“I’d prefer it.”
“I’m a mess.”
“You don’t say.” I snort, and she swats at me, playfully, with amusement on her face.
“I was in a relationship for a really long time. One I thought would last forever. I mean, we weren’t the perfect couple by any means, but things just started to feel so robotic and trivial after a while. There was no spark. No interest on either end. It just felt like he was, somehow, doing me a favor, by staying with me, and that’s not the life I want. I don’t want someone to stay with me out of obligation or because they don’t want to hurt me. I want them to be