Chapter 42

Olivia

We weren’t expecting any visitors the next morning, so when I heard the sound of someone knocking impatiently on the front door, I was a bit confused.

Nathan was in the shower, so I ran to open the door in my pajamas. My stomach dropped when I saw none other than Maria standing there with another pot of soup in her hands.

“Oh— Mar— I mean, Mrs. Ford,” I said, opening the door a little wider, “I wasn’t expecting you.”

Maria scoffed as she walked in. Her judgmental eyes wandered up and down my body. “Still in your pajamas, I see,” she said, her voice mocking me. “It’s almost ten o’clock.”

“Y-Yes,” I said, managing a bit of a smile. “It’s Saturday.”

“Hmph.” Maria gave me a cold look. “Well, I thought I did tell you that I would be back today, so shame on me for assuming that you would bother to make yourself presentable. Well, it’s no matter. I made more soup for you.”

I felt like an idiot. Maria did mention that she would be back today, but I was so sick when she told me that it completely slipped my mind.

My eyes wandered up the stairs, where Nathan was still in the shower and completely oblivious to the situation.

“Nathan is showering,” I said as I followed the stern older woman into the kitchen. “He’ll be down in a few minutes. Can I make you some tea, and then maybe we can all enjoy breakfast toge—”

“No need.” Maria abruptly slammed the pot she was carrying down on the stove with a clang and clicked the burner on. Within a matter of moments, the pungent smell of those awful medicinal herbs assaulted my senses. It took all of my energy not to gag and cover my nose.

“Since you threw up what I gave you yesterday, I added something extra,” she said, stirring the thick, dark brown liquid with a wooden spoon. “This should keep you from throwing up, so you’ll have to keep it down this time.”

“Oh, good,” I said, hoping that she wouldn’t notice that my voice was dripping with sarcasm. If she did notice, she didn’t say anything.

A few minutes later, I was exactly where I was yesterday.

I sat at the kitchen table, my hand trembling as I held the spoon, forcing myself to swallow the concoction my morning sickness rebelled against. The aroma of the soup filled the room, a pungent mixture of overpowering spices that only intensified my nausea.

Across from me, Maria sat with a cup of tea in her hand and watched me with a critical eye.

"Come on, Olivia, just a few more bites," she urged, her tone laced with an unwavering determination mixed with pure disdain.

My hand shook as I held the spoon. I was already struggling to keep the contents of my stomach down, my body pleading for reprieve with each spoonful. Whatever extra herb she put in this batch of soup made it even more unbearable, and what made it even worse was that I knew I couldn’t throw it up.

But Maria seemed relentless, oblivious to my discomfort. Or maybe she just didn’t care; I couldn’t tell.

I felt trapped, caught between my own physical limitations and her relentless insistence.

Nathan, where are you? I thought to myself. I hoped that he was out of the shower by now, and maybe he could smell this awful soup and come running.

He did promise, after all, that his mother wouldn’t be able to force me to eat it again.

“Delicious,” I lied, just looking for an opportunity to not eat the stuff as I stirred it with my spoon. “What is the new herb you put in there? Will it really help with the morning sickness?”

Maria let out a small sound that sounded like a hiss between her teeth, and sipped her tea. “It shouldn’t matter to you,” she chided. “Just eat the soup. As the surrogate, you have no real need to know, after all.”

Just hearing that word — surrogate — made me feel sick, but thankfully, I heard the sound of the shower shutting off.

Thank god, I thought to myself. I just have to get through a few more minutes, and he’ll come down and stop it all. He’s bound to smell this wretched soup by now.

Maria watched me like a hawk as I forced another spoonful of soup into my mouth. It was too hot, and it had the texture of mud. I was certain that if I stirred it enough, I would find sticks and twigs floating in it.

“By the way,” Maria said, looking over at the baking cupboard. “I noticed that you’ve got quite the baking shelf over there.”

I raised my eyebrow, hoping that this would be an opportunity to strike up a conversation so I could go a few minutes without eating this dirty water called ‘soup’.

“Oh,” I said, setting my spoon down, “do you like to bake?”

Maria scoffed. “No. I’m only bringing it up because you should be watching your weight. I don’t want my grandbaby to be overweight at birth because you spent the pregnancy stuffing yourself with cakes and—”

“Mother!” Nathan’s voice suddenly rang out.

I felt a wave of relief wash over me. Footsteps pounded down the hallway, and I had to resist the urge to grin as the kitchen door swung open, and Nathan strode in.

His eyes narrowed in on the scene before him, and his expression hardened.

“Good morning, Nathan,” Maria said, glancing at him over her shoulder. “Nice of you to finally join us. I was just telling your surrogate that she should be watching her weight.”

Nathan said nothing. His blue-green eyes flickered back and forth between me, the putrid soup, and Maria for a few moments. As his eyes caught my gaze, I silently pleaded with him to end this torture, and he seemed to understand.

Without hesitation, he marched towards the table, snatched the bowl from my hands, and dumped the remaining soup into the trash.

“Nathan!” Maria exclaimed, jumping up. “What on earth was that for?!”

“That’s enough, mom,” he growled, slamming the dirty bowl down in the sink and folding his arms across his chest. “No more soup, and no more insults. I’d like you to leave, please.”

Maria gasped. The room fell silent, with the atmosphere so thick that I felt as though my chest would cave in. I watched in awe as Maria’s thin face turned a bright shade of red, and she began to tremble.

But Nathan just held his ground.

Just then, at that moment, he looked more handsome than ever; he was like my knight in shining armor, sent on a mission to save me from the Soup Demon. I would be willing to throw myself at his feet and pledge a life of servitude for him in exchange for this kindness.

Maria looked back and forth between me and Nathan, clutching her chest.

“Olivia!” she shouted, her voice shaking. “I thought you liked the soup!”

I didn’t know what to say, so I said nothing. Maria’s eyes widened, and she looked back at Nathan.

“Nathan—”

“Leave, mom.” He pointed toward the door, still holding his ground. “Get out of our house.”