Chapter 2 - “I Want to Go Home” Olivia buried her face against Stallone's shoulder.
Her small fingers twisted into the fabric of his shirt.
Eleanor watched.
“Olivia,” she called. “Come here.”
The little girl didn't move.
Instead, she held tighter.
That tiny gesture hurt Eleanor more than Stallone's accusations.
“You're turning her against me,” Eleanor said.
Stallone shook his head.
“No. She made that decision herself.”
The words landed heavily.
Eleanor's jaw tightened.
She had spent years controlling rooms with nothing more than a look.
People stopped talking when she entered.
Children straightened when she raised her voice.
Adults apologized before she even explained what they had done wrong.
But Olivia wasn't listening.
She had already chosen.
“Can we go home?” the little girl whispered.
Stallone didn't hesitate.
“Yes.”
He carried her outside.
The evening air was cold.
Streetlights reflected across the windshield of his truck.
For several seconds, he simply stood there holding her.
Then Olivia whispered, “I thought Grandma loved me.”
Stallone closed his eyes.
“I think she does.”
“Then why did she let him hurt me?”
He didn't answer immediately.
Because the truth was complicated.
Adults could love someone and still hurt them.
They could believe they were helping while causing damage.
They could carry their own pain for so long that they began handing it to the next generation.
“Sometimes people make wrong choices,” he finally said.
Olivia thought about that.
“Like when you forget my pancakes?”
A faint smile appeared.
“Exactly.”
“You always say sorry.”
“I do.”
“Grandma didn't.”
The smile disappeared.
He opened the passenger door.
Before closing it, he noticed something on the floor near the doorway.
Her red toy car.
“I forgot this,” he said.
He walked back inside.
Eleanor stood alone.
“You came back for the toy?”
Stallone picked it up.
“She loves it.”
“She loves many things.”
He looked at her.
“You don't have to defend what happened.”
“I wasn't defending it.”
“You were.”
“I was explaining.”
“Those are different when someone gets hurt.”
Eleanor looked away.
For once, she had nothing to say.
May you like
Stallone walked out.
And the door closed behind him.
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