Chapter XXXX

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Chapter XXXX

Unlike last time, she controls her urge to vomit. She swallows it down, not wanting to make the same mistake she did two years ago. She showed her vulnerability then and this time around, she will keep that side of her to herself. Until she needs to speak with Freya, though. Then she will show that side of herself, but not now. Especially not in front of her parents and Andrew. She will hold her composure and not lose it.

    She steps out of the car without any help from others. Mr. Haden offers his hand, but she doesn't take it. Not out of spite of him bringing her here. He is simply doing his job, but because she is caught in the moment between silence and the moment when she will have to speak and smile. She straightens her back and stands in a posed manner that her mother taught her in her adolescent years. The mourning veil does well to hide her frown at the sight of Andrew when he steps closer to greet her as her parents do the same. She frowns with the disappointment of him being here can't be stopped. He should be gone. She pictured him to be away when she arrived and spoke with Freya. How will they have a moment alone if her husband is the reason why Olive asked to be here?

    Freya stays back and it creates a deeper hole in Olive's heart.

    "Olive!" Marina cries out. She doesn't hug her, but she places a loving hand on her shoulder. "How was your journey here? Well, I hope," she asks, but before Olive can do so, her father is in front of her with a smile that appears to be forced than anything.

    "It's nice to have you back at the manor," he offers, but his words hold no welcome. Either way, her eyes stray from her parents and to Freya, her only sister. Her heart beats wildly at the vision of herself walking over to her and hugging her, hugging her so tightly to say sorry. To say all the words that she couldn't write and probably won't be able to say properly soon. She wants to hug her sister. She wants to approach her and tell her that she loves her and that she hopes that she still loves her.

     But the vision washes away and her legs refuse to play it out. Instead, her eyes focus on reality and fall onto her father's face.

     "It's good to be back. I'm sorry for my absence lately. It's been a hard two years."

    Her mother smiles at her and shakes her head.

    "It is in the past. Now, let's go inside and catch up. How is Neil?" Her mother sparks the conversation instantly and Olive starts to answer her questions as they start the journey up the stairs to the front door. Andrew walks as close as to Freya and then stops while Olive finds herself boxed in by her parents, forcing her to walk up the stairs while they talk and ask her questions about her life since they last saw her. She answers them in a haste, but her mind, and her eyes, are busy with Freya and Andrew. She watches Andrew walk to Freya and peck a kiss on her cheek. Suddenly and, in a way, lovingly. But Freya doesn't kiss him back. Instead, she walks away, toward the side of the manor.

     Olive finds herself wishing to follow her. She wonders if it would be the best thing to do and might help her ease the blow of what might happen later if she doesn't. They are too close to the door now, though, and Mr. Delacery opens it for them. Her mind might be playing tricks on her weak state of mind, but she almost believes that he opens the door in attempts to tell her to leave Freya alone and go inside. She needs to catch up with her parents. It's the only thing she can do now. Later, she will be able to do the right thing, but now, she needs to follow her parents.

     She wants to push herself away from the entrance and run toward Freya and see if she is alright and if she is suffering more than she is letting people see. She knows that to be true. How could Freya let her feelings go in the back of her head to care for Olive that first night back two years ago? She frowns underneath her veil. She pushes it to the top of her head in swoop and enters the manor, leaving any thought of going after Freya at the doorstep.

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