Chapter 292: The Talk

Olivia’s POV

Louis poured the wine while Lennox lit the last candle on the table. As I looked around, taking it all in, my heart swelled to the point of pain.

"I don’t understand," I whispered, my eyes brimming. "How did you even pull this off?"

Levi smiled gently, his gaze never leaving me. "We did all this throughout the day."

"It’s beautiful." I whispered, my voice cracking.

Lennox leaned down, brushing a strand of hair behind my ear. "You deserve to feel loved, Olivia. Cherished. We wanted to remind you of what we had... and what we can still have."

Levi rested his hand over mine. "You’ve always been our everything. We just forgot how to show it."

A heavy silence fell over us... not tense but comfortable...

Until I spoke... "I missed you. All of you. So much it felt like dying."

Louis squeezed my hand. "We missed you too, little bird."

That name. That damn name.

It cracked something wide open inside me.

It was the name Lennox had given me because he always teased that I was like a bird—fluttering, always circling them. And he wasn’t wrong. Back then, I was always around them.

Tears fell, slow and silent, streaking down my cheeks. I didn’t wipe them away. I let them fall. Because for the first time in what felt like forever... I wasn’t crying alone.

Lennox reached across the table and gently caught one of the tears with his thumb, his touch featherlight. "You’re here now. That’s all that matters."

I nodded and flashed them a weak smile. "Let’s eat. The meal is getting cold."

They nodded and offered to fill my plate, and then we began eating in silence. I knew we had a lot to talk about, but we were waiting until after the meal.

They kept refilling my plate with my favorites, urging me to eat more, drink more.

By the time dessert came—chocolate mousse with strawberry hearts—I felt full in a way food couldn’t explain.

"Alright, please stop," I said with a soft chuckle, pushing the dessert slightly away. "I’m going to explode if I eat one more spoon."

They all smiled, watching me with that same soft admiration. But underneath the warmth, I could feel they were tense.

"I know you guys probably have a lot to say," I murmured, folding my hands on the table. "But let me start."

They paused, all three of them. Attentive. Silent.

"I heard what happened to Anita... and her family."

The air shifted instantly. Like the wind had changed direction.

Lennox’s jaw clenched slightly. Louis looked away. Levi’s fingers tapped against his glass.

between them. "What... exactly did

low and grave. "He found the letters, Olivia. The ones

my eyes.

There was a pause.

answered, his voice a whisper

widened. "Your parents forged

were, they wanted

words in the letters that messed us up," Levi added, looking directly at me. "Anita’s father—he got a

confused.

dark one," Lennox said, his voice hard. "It was meant to twist us. To make us hate

nodded. "So much hate, it would’ve made us

but I wasn’t shocked. If he could set up my father, he was capable

the table, placing his hand over mine.

"I know. We didn’t kill you physically... but we killed

something we’ll never forgive ourselves for,"

could see it plain as day. The regret. The guilt. The pain

the lump in my throat, the weight of everything pressing on my chest. "How long?" I asked softly. "How long have

glances. It was

with the Council," he

clenching. "Then why didn’t you tell

leaning forward slightly, "you wouldn’t have believed us, Olivia.

I thought back to how broken and

you," I whispered, more to myself

again, heavy but

need to tell you something," I said, my voice gaining strength. "Anita... she confessed to me.

to mine, sharp with

her to a witch," I continued. "She was bathed... spiritually. To make

brows

"What?" I asked gently.

his jaw. "The first time we actually touched her... it was confusing. Off. We became friends with her to

a thought, Olivia. Not until just a few weeks before

it started," Lennox said, his voice tight. "That strange... pull. That desire. We thought we were losing our minds.

sick. "It wasn’t love. It wasn’t even

something. Because she was always... there. Always sacrificing. Or so

trying to breathe

I was hurt by them, by their actions, but these men were victims, too. They wouldn’t have hurt me the way they did

This makes sense now...

knew—my boys—they never

might’ve ignored me. Maybe even distanced themselves. That would’ve hurt, but not

piece by piece with their

But

never who they

really liked her. Back then, they barely tolerated her. I always noticed it. The obvious distance, the way they dismissed her opinions, never really talked to

when they started acting obsessed with her—kissing her, claiming her—it was like watching

thinking it

I knew

It wasn’t them.

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