Virgin's Sweet Rebellion

‘No?’ he challenged quietly. ‘What if that one episode reveals you? Shows what you’re really like?’

She just blinked then, because she had no answer for that one. She’d felt the same about herself. Choosing to let her mother down in her darkest hour had defined her character and all the choices she’d made since it had happened...fourteen years ago. Just like Ben she’d been living with the guilt of a single, regrettable action.

He nodded, his mouth curving in a grim smile. ‘You don’t have an answer for that one, do you?’

‘No,’ she said slowly, ‘but not because of you. Because of me.’

‘What do you mean?’

She knew then that she couldn’t demand honesty from Ben and keep back her own secrets. Her own shame. And maybe hearing about her struggles would help Ben with his.

‘Well,’ she said after a moment, her voice wobbling all over the place, ‘I made a big mistake just like you did, once upon a time.’

He frowned, his gaze moving over her face, searching for answers. ‘What do you mean?’

‘I let my mom down. In the biggest way possible.’

His expression softened then, and with a weak laugh that was far too close to a sob Olivia sank onto the sofa. She’d never told anyone any of this, ever.

‘What happened, Olivia?’ Ben asked quietly.

‘When she got sick, I mean really sick...’ She stopped, took a breath that tore at her lungs. ‘Let me go back a bit,’ she said after a few seconds’ pause when she struggled to maintain her composure. She knew she needed to tell Ben this, and maybe he needed to hear it. But it was hard. ‘I was my mother’s favourite. I’m not saying that to be mean or arrogant or something...’

‘I believe you,’ Ben interjected quietly, and she fell silent, managed a very shaky smile.

‘We just had a bond. We did so much together. We were similar, kind of shy to begin with but with a flair for the dramatic. She also encouraged my acting, which is why...’ She stopped then, because her chest hurt and her throat was going tight. After a moment she resumed. ‘We laughed a lot together, over the silliest stuff. And then she got sick when I was twelve. It was only a couple of months—she went downhill pretty quickly. But I...’ Her throat closed up and she drew in a revealingly clogged breath.

‘Olivia,’ Ben said quietly, and he came to sit beside her, reached for her hand. Olivia clung to it as if it were a life preserver in this sudden sea of emotion she was drowning in.

‘I bailed,’ she said simply. ‘On her. On everything. The sicker she became, the less I was around. She used to ask me to come sit next to her and tell her about my day, simple stuff, and I’d find any excuse not to.’ Olivia felt two tears slip down her cheeks and she dashed them away with her free hand. ‘Any excuse not to spend time with her. And I could see how it hurt her, and still I did it.’ She shook her head, more tears slipping down her face as a sob rose in her chest, a howl of guilt and grief and regret.

Ben didn’t say anything, and Olivia thought she must have shocked him. Disgusted him with her selfish, terrible behaviour. Her choice had revealed her. It hadn’t been like his, one moment of uncontrollable anger, deeply regretted. It had been a thousand little wounds, given deliberately, over a course of months. Of course it revealed her.

The pressure built in her chest and she knew she wouldn’t be able to keep it in. Like Ben, she’d stuffed her emotions down for so long. Tried to pretend they didn’t exist. And the intensity and passion they’d felt for each other had brought everything out to the glaring light. There was no hiding now. No pretending to be someone else.

And she still didn’t like who she was. Hated Ben knowing. She pushed away from him, averting her face.

Gently Ben reached out and cupped her cheek, turning her to face him. ‘Olivia, you were twelve.’

‘Oh, so that’s my excuse?’ she retorted, drawing back.

Ben gave her a quiet, sad smile. ‘And mine was self-defence, remember?’

‘It’s different, Ben.’

‘How is it different?’

She shook her head. ‘Because—because it’s me.’

Ben nodded, understanding gleaming in his eyes. ‘Okay, so one set of rules for you, one set for everyone else?’

‘We’re talking about my mother, the person I loved best. And I failed her. Utterly.’ She felt the pressure inside her building again, and her words came faster, harder. ‘Do you know what my last conversation with her was?’ she demanded, and with sorrowful eyes Ben shook his head.

‘No.’