Chapter 3

"When are you going to grow up?"

"You really embarrassed me today!"

That was the first thing Olivia said once we were in the car, her brow furrowed.

I remembered what she had said to Adrian in the room.

A wave of sadness washed over me.

I didn't understand why she thought I was immature.

We’d been together for five years, and I was the one who always took care of her.

She couldn't cook, so I made all our meals.

She didn't do laundry, so I washed her clothes for five years.

When she had a bad day at work, I would take her shopping to cheer her up.

To me, maturity meant being responsible and reliable. That's what a mature person was.

A player like Adrian just had some money. He would never treat a girl with real care.

That wasn't maturity.

I looked at Olivia sitting in front of me.

"So you like guys like Adrian?"

"Olivia, are you tired of my immaturity, or are you tired of me being broke?"

I might not be as successful as Adrian.

But I worked harder than most guys my age. That’s why, at 26, I had already been offered a job opportunity abroad. Olivia was the one who never wanted me to go.

"What are you talking about?"

Olivia slammed on the brakes and turned to me, annoyed.

"Adrian has a girlfriend."

"He takes great care of her. He doesn't even let her work; she just gets to relax at home all day."

"I heard you with my own ears. You said if you could turn back time, you would want to meet him first."

I stared into her eyes.

I desperately wanted her to explain, to tell me it wasn't because she didn't love me anymore.

I really didn't want to break up with her.

I suddenly remembered, years ago, when my father came home drunk and tied me up, beating me.

He cursed at me between blows. "You little bastard! All you do is eat and shit! You're useless!"

"I don't even have money for cards because of you!"

Many people walked by and saw what was happening.

But no one helped. They didn't want to get involved.

My dad just kept hitting me until he knocked out two of my teeth.

I thought I was going to die, but then the police arrived.

They took my father away.

Olivia rushed in and untied me.

Her eyes were filled with pity. "I'm so sorry, little guy. I'm late."

Later, my dad was sent to prison for abuse.

I also found out that after our first meeting, Olivia had gone to the overpass every day to wait for me.

When I didn't show up for a few days, she started asking around for me.

When she found out my father was beating me, she called the police immediately.

That was when I was finally free.

No one would ever hit me again.

That’s why my feelings for Olivia ran so, so deep.

Deep enough that I could forgive some of her worst behavior.