Olivia Sparks

Upon seeing the guests, the stationed nurse left Maxen and Olivia so she could pick-up the doctor at the entrance, leaving the two alone to enjoy some quality time with the sleeping Amelia.

"Are you close with the gardener?" he whispered in Olivia's ears when the smell of hospital disinfectant and the sound of machines inside told him that he had entered Oliver's mom's room and that he should be mindful of his voice.

Olivia just nodded to his question and pointed to a nook by the tall double windows. But instead of following her lead, he helped her empty the heavy crystal vase and rinsed it for Olivia. 

While rinsing the vase, Maxen peeked over his shoulders to see Amelia's sleeping form and lo and behold, he had an epiphany: Amelia was a spitting image of Olivia while Oliver looked exactly like Henry Lin.

After filling the vase with water, he left it in the sink so Olivia could arrange the flowers she got from the gardener in it. 

"It was a good thing you didn't look like your brother," he whispered, biting his lips behind the mask to keep himself from booming a laughter inside the cabin.

"But what if I do look like Ollie? Would you still date me? And why are we whispering?" she asked, scrunching her eyebrows as she faced him.

"To answer your question, no. I won't date someone as ugly as my best friend." He deadpanned that Olivia had to cover her mouth with the back of her hand when a smile escaped her lips.

Allured by her smile, Maxen dropped his gaze from her eyes to her lips and tucked the mask under his chin, saying, "And this mask is too uncomfortable and scratchy." 

"Put that back," Olivia uttered. Her hands were mid-air when Maxen held her wrists hostage. "Not before I kiss you first," he replied under his breath, dipping his head to press a quick and daring kiss on her lips.

He released her hands and put the mask back in place, chuckling at the sight of Olivia who pretended as if nothing happened yet the blush on her cheeks betrayed her big time when it was as rosy as the flowers that she was holding.

Standing by the sink and ignoring Maxen's presence, Olivia started dumping the flowers in the vase because honestly, she lacked any artistic bone in her body and that includes doing floral arrangements. 

Once she was done, she passed the vase to Maxen who carried it back on the bedside table, breathing color, vibrancy, and life to the room.

Feeling equal parts nervous because of his disguise and curiosity, Maxen silently sat in the nook as he watched Olivia take care of her mom, checking if Amelia's clothes or a.d.u.l.t diapers needed changing, and fluffing the duvet too. Eventually, the weird vibe that he got from Uncle Chan was pushed to the back of his mind.

He was silent as it was his first time stepping into Amelia's cabin and the last time that he saw her was when she was still conscious and pregnant with Olivia twenty-five years ago, before the fall out of Henry Lin and the Suis.

He glanced at his watch, estimating that they had a few minutes until one in the afternoon before a round of medical professionals would flock the cabin.

"Do you want some time alone with your mom?" he asked, walking over to Olivia who was now sitting beside Amelia's bed. He planted his hand over her shoulders to get her attention when she didn't respond but instead of a reply, what Maxen got was Olivia leaning her cheek on the back of his hand.

He stood still in silent comfort, watching Olivia's fingers brush on her mother's swollen hand until a fat hot tear dropped at the back of his hand. 

Instantly, his grip tightened on her shoulders, the same intensity as how his heart crushed at the thought of her holding back her tears. 

Snapping out from her trance, she glanced at Maxen and saw worry painted all over his face so she bumped her head on his as if telling him she's fine with a lopsided sad smile.

"Do you know…" Olivia's voice tapered off, swallowing the golf ball-sized lump that got stuck in her throat and wiping the lone tear that dampened her cheek. 

"As far as I can remember, there was nobody to hold my hand during a doctor's appointment. No warm hand to calm my racing heart during shots nor a soothing voice to tell me that everything would be okay or that the needle would only hurt for a second. It's just me and the doctor or nurses with a nanny of course.

"But I got over it; the need to be dependent, longing for someone to stand beside you. I got the memo as early as four-years-old when my nanny spanked me for squishing and hurting her hands during a flu shot. 

"She said that I should toughen up because I'm alone in this world and that flu shots were nothing compared to the things that I would face as a grown-up.

"But I didn't understand what she was saying. I was four and, at that time, I was hurt by her response, so when we got home, I ran and locked myself in my room. I didn't cry by the way. I was just there, staring out the window before I called my dad's assistant to inform him that I wanted that nanny fired. I didn't wait for his reply, I just dropped the call because I am a brat. The next thing I heard was a cab honking out on the driveway and the nanny pulling her trolley away from my apartment.

"That evening, I realized my nanny was right. The truth was right there before me when I saw myself and nobody else sitting by the dinner table with a feast that was good for a family of five.

"So I made a pledge to myself that my yearly physician visits would be a reminder that there should be nothing that would scare me because I have no one to rely on except myself and that I am a strong and independent woman."

She beamed at Maxen. She kept that little story to herself for years and now that someone knows it too, she felt light and fluffy like a floating c.u.mulus cloud on a bright and sunny day. 

"You have me now, baby." Maxen rubbed her cheeks with the back of his index finger, enough to soothe her, making her eyes closed as she responded, "I know."