I’ve given up trying to understand why Caroline did the things she did and why she was filled with so much hate. While I helped my mother pack up her home, she finally told me a few stories about the little sister I knew nothing about. It started off innocent enough: a little five-year-old girl telling everyone she was going to marry her older brother. They thought it was cute. They thought it was sweet. As time wore on, her cute little girl antics rapidly morphed into threats and anger and jealousy. The first time I brought a girlfriend home my senior year of high school, Caroline set her bed on fire after we’d left to go to the movies. When I called home from Navy basic training and told everyone I was dating a girl I’d met on leave, Caroline cut off all of her hair and slit her wrists. Every girl I introduced to my family broke things off with me soon thereafter and I never put two-and-two together. Caroline was subtle with her threats, but they did the job. I stuck up for her when my parents got on her case for her wild nature, promising to always be there for her and take care of her. Maybe that was the catalyst for her obsession with me, who knows? She saw me as her hero; her knight in shining armor who always protected her and her feelings grew until they became something dark and twisted. As soon as she saw Olivia, saw her dark hair and olive complexion and no-nonsense attitude, she knew she’d have to up her game. She knew Olivia was different and it pushed her into the worst downward spiral her life had ever taken. Even though I never met my son, I know without a doubt I would have done anything for him. Maybe even cover up his mental illness and do everything I could to try and bring him back to me. I understand my mother’s actions a little better now, but that doesn’t mean I forgive what she did.

I’ll never be able to ask Caroline why and I’ll never be able to make sense of it all. The only thing I can do is remember the good times. Remember the little sister I watched over and protected. The little girl my parents brought home from foster care that I would have done anything for. No matter how hard I try, I can’t hate her. I also can’t forgive her for what she stole from me. Time heals all wounds and all that bullshit. I’ll eventually be able to let my anger and disappointment go, but for right now, I’m not going to let it get to me. I have a good life, an amazing woman by my side and I’m not going to fuck it up with regrets and rage over things I can’t change. What’s done is done and the only thing I care about is inside this house.

After Caroline’s funeral, my mother told me that if Olivia wanted to go back to work at the hospital, she would make it happen immediately. She always knew Olivia was the best nurse that ever came through the doors of UC San Diego and she’d hated herself for ruining Olivia’s career. Her only concern at the time was getting Olivia as far away from Caroline as possible. Olivia thought about it for a few days, but ultimately decided she liked being a home nurse. She enjoyed the change of scenery taking care of people in their homes provided. UC San Diego held a lot of bad memories for Olivia and she said she wouldn’t be able to walk through those doors again without remembering the day she lost our son. I supported whatever decision she made. As long as she was happy, I didn’t care what she wanted to do.

With my shit knee, my career as a SEAL is over and that’s okay with me. Not even Uncle Sam could tear me away from Olivia ever again, anyway. My computer skills are invaluable, though, and the Navy has asked that I stay on board, working in Intel. It’s not the most glamorous of jobs, but it keeps me busy and close to Olivia and that’s all I want and need in life.

Garrett and Parker just announced that Annie is going to be a big sister in six months, Layla turned the tables and proposed to Brady as soon as she got home from Napa, and Austin just called us yesterday and told us Gwen is also pregnant. I don’t know what the fuck those women drank in Napa, but it obviously worked wonders. Garrett, Austin and Brady all agreed that whatever I did, I should keep doing it because their women practically attacked them as soon as they got home.

The door to the bathroom suddenly flies open and I take a step back, searching Olivia’s face, making sure she’s okay. Maybe this wasn’t my brightest idea. The doctor told her the chances of her getting pregnant again were slim to none, but I reminded her over and over this morning that he never said it was impossible. Maybe I shouldn’t have pushed her to take that fucking test. All it’s going to do is remind her of something she might never have and I don’t want to do that to her right now, especially when all of our friends have been bit by the fucking fertility bug and she’s surrounded by their annoying displays of happiness, a constant reminder of something she might never have.

She’s holding the white plastic test in her hands, staring down at it silently. Her chin quivers and my heart instantly falls.

Shit! Goddammit! I’m such an asshole.

“Oh, baby. I’m so sorry. I shouldn’t have made you take that stupid thing,” I tell her softly, moving towards her and rubbing my hands up and down her arms. “It’s fine. It doesn’t matter. We’re going to adopt fifty, remember?”

Olivia shakes her head back and forth and my heart breaks as I watch tears escape from her eyes and fall down her cheeks. She looks up at me, the tears falling faster and I swipe them away, telling her over and over that I love her and it doesn’t matter. I kiss the top of her head and apologize again for putting her through this.

She doesn’t say a word and it’s much worse than if she was screaming at me and cursing my name.