Chapter 56
Olivia's POV
The familiar hum of Lunera Beauty’s labs was a welcome slice of normalcy after Aiden’s attack.
The sharp scent of distilled oils and faint hints of floral blends filled the air, grounding me in a way I hadn’t felt in days. Here, at least, I was in control. Or so I told myself.
I leaned over the counter, adjusting the dropper to add another measure of lavender extract to the mixture before me. The formula was coming together, but there was a nagging thought in the back of my mind.
You could do so much more with this, Matthew had said. Imagine helping people detect illness before it’s too late.
I shook my head, trying to focus. The idea had merit, but it felt like stepping onto a slippery slope. My work had always been about empowerment, not diagnosis.
But what was empathy if not an emotional diagnosis?
The suggestion lingered. Was I holding back on the idea for logistical reasons? Or was it something about the way Matthew had said it?
Before I could second-guess myself further, I grabbed my phone and dialed his number. The call felt impulsive, but I needed clarity.
Matthew picked up after the second ring.
"Olivia," he sounded surprised, but his voice was warm, almost intimate. “I wasn’t expecting to hear from you today.”
"I’ve been thinking about what you said," I began, keeping my tone neutral. "About the formula and illness detection. It’s… an interesting idea."
"Interesting?" He chuckled softly, and I could picture his charming smile, the kind that always made people feel seen. "It’s groundbreaking, Olivia. You’d be saving lives."
I hesitated, gripping the edge of the counter. "It’s not that simple, Matthew. The logistics alone – plus the ethical implications – it’s a lot to consider."
"Which is why you need someone who believes in you," he said smoothly. "You’re already doing so much, balancing LB, your Pack, and… everything else."
The pause before his last words wasn’t lost on me. It hung there, a silent reminder of the gossip and rumors surrounding my marriage.
"You mean Ethan," I said bluntly.
Matthew didn’t deny it. Instead, his voice softened. "I just worry about you, Olivia. You’ve taken on so much, and I’m not sure he sees how much you sacrifice."
My chest tightened. "Ethan’s been dealing with a lot too," I replied, though the words felt defensive, even to me.
"Maybe," Matthew allowed, his tone carefully measured. "But does he understand you? Your vision, your goals? Because you deserve someone who doesn’t just stand beside you but truly supports you."
The implication wasn’t subtle, and for a moment, I was at a loss for words. Matthew’s concern felt genuine, but there was something else beneath it, an undercurrent that made my wolf stir uneasily.
"Matthew," I said finally, my voice firm. "I appreciate your support, but my decisions aren’t about what anyone else thinks I deserve. They’re about what’s best for my Pack and my company."
"And yourself?" he pressed gently. "Don’t you deserve to prioritize your happiness for once?"
I swallowed hard, torn between gratitude for his understanding and a growing discomfort at his persistence. "I’ll take your suggestions into consideration," I said, keeping my tone even.
"Of course," he replied, though there was a faint edge to his voice. "Just remember, Olivia, I’m here if you need someone to talk to. About anything."
The call ended, but the unease lingered. I stared at the beaker in front of me, the faint lavender scent now cloying. Matthew’s words had a way of burrowing into my thoughts, but something didn’t sit right.
Was he genuinely trying to help? Or was there something more to his interest in me, and my work, than I wanted to believe?
My wolf shifted restlessly, echoing my uncertainty. Whatever Matthew’s motives were, I couldn’t let him sway me. Not now. Not when so much was already at stake.
The steady beeping of the heart monitor was both a comfort and a source of dread as I sat by my mother’s hospital bed.
Her breathing was shallow but steady, her once vibrant presence reduced to a withering figure under the weight of illness. I reached out to smooth the blanket over her, the fabric cool beneath my fingers.
"Mom," I whispered, forcing a smile I didn’t feel. "You’re still fighting. That’s all that matters."
Her eyes fluttered open briefly, the faintest flicker of recognition passing through them before they closed again. My chest tightened as I held back the tears threatening to spill.
The world outside these walls – the political chaos, the uncertainty – felt distant, like a half-remembered dream.
A soft knock on the door pulled me from my thoughts. Matthew stepped in, his expression as calm and composed as ever. "I thought you might need this," he said, holding out a cup of tea.
I took it with a small nod. "Thanks, Matthew."
He moved to stand beside me, his gaze shifting between my mother and me. "How are you holding up?"
"Not good," I admitted, my voice barely above a whisper. "Why aren’t the treatments working?"
Matthew’s hand rested lightly on my shoulder, a gesture that felt both reassuring and intrusive.
"I’m not sure she wants them to. Losing a Mate is… more than most can come back from. But she’s holding on as best she can, Olivia. I see how much she means to you, and I’m sorry."
His words, though well-meaning, felt like a spotlight on my own inadequacies. I wasn’t doing enough. Not for my mother, my Pack, or even myself.
"You’re carrying a lot," Matthew continued, his voice low and soothing. "More than you should. I just hope Ethan sees that."
I tensed, recognizing the veiled criticism. "I’m managing," I replied, my tone sharper than intended.
Matthew didn’t flinch. Instead, he sat in the chair beside me, his posture relaxed. "Are you? Ethan showing up here, accusing me of manipulating you, threatening me, didn’t exactly scream ‘supportive partner.’"
I stiffened, the mention of Ethan reigniting the simmering frustration I’d been trying to suppress. "Ethan’s protective," I said carefully.
"Protective," Matthew repeated, his tone measured. "Or controlling? Olivia, you deserve someone who trusts you, someone who doesn’t see every other male as a threat. Or who refuses to let you in."
The words stung, not because I believed them, but because they echoed the doubts already lurking in my mind. Ethan’s jealousy, his guarded demeanor, his refusal to fully open up…it all painted a picture I didn’t want to acknowledge.
"Matthew," I began, but he held up a hand.
"I’m not saying this to come between you," he said, though his expression suggested otherwise. "I just want you to think about what you need, what you deserve. You’ve given so much to everyone else, maybe it’s time to think about yourself."
My gaze shifted back to my mother, her frailty a stark reminder of the shortness of life.
"I should focus on her right now," I said, a note of finality in my voice.
"Of course," Matthew said, rising to his feet. "I’ll check in on you, and her, later.”
As he left, I exhaled slowly, my grip tightening around the cup of tea.
The doubts Matthew had been planting didn’t leave with him. They lingered, intertwining with the guilt and fear that had taken root in my heart.
