Chapter 463

Olivia

“Olivia! How wonderful to meet your mother!”

My mother? I blinked, momentarily taken aback by Benjamin’s comment. The mention of my mother caught me off guard; it had been ages since anyone brought her up. She had passed when I was only a teenager, barely old enough to grasp the full weight of the loss.

I composed myself, shaking off the sudden wave of emotion that threatened to take over me. “I’m sorry, Benjamin, but my mother died a very long time ago.”

An awkward silence fell over the three of us. Benjamin’s eyes widened behind his wire-rimmed glasses.

“Oh my god, Olivia, I’m so sorry,” he said. “You two just just resemble each other so closely, I made an assumption…” His voice trailed off embarrassedly, and he looked away, rubbing the back of his neck.

I offered a slight laugh to help ease the tension. “It’s alright, Ben,” I said gently. “Honestly, a lot of people have said that Clarissa and I look alike.”

Clarissa and I turned to look at each other then; curiosity and something deeper nagged at me as I studied her.

Now that the uncanny resemblance had been pointed out so many times by so many different people, I supposed that I could see it in the details—we had the same long, honey golden hair, although hers had a long gray streak in the front.

And the almond shape of her hazel eyes did echo my own. Even her brow bone, delicate with the eyes sitting deep and expressive, seemed to look similar to mine.

In fact, I noticed other tiny similarities I hadn’t picked up on before, such as the mole on her neck that was a mirror image of mine, but still—we weren’t identical. Just a strange coincidence, I told myself.

Clarissa met my gaze calmly in that moment. She tilted her head, scrutinizing me in a new light. “I suppose I do spot a resemblance. It must be the hair,” she remarked with a chuckle.

“Or the eyes,” I added slowly.

Another odd wave of deja vu washed over me as we assessed each other. It was like peering into a distorted mirror, one that reflected a version of me from the future. In Clarissa’s graceful posture and refined beauty, I did see glimmers of my late mother.

But my mother was dead. Lung cancer had taken her; the same cancer that had taken my father. I had attended her funeral. She was dead and buried.

Still, I didn’t understand this weird magnetic pull between us, this profound sense of… recognition, almost. Clarissa was still virtually a stranger to me, yet an inexplicable, intangible familiarity lingered.

Maybe she was a long-lost cousin after all? I supposed it wasn’t entirely impossible.

Just then, the twins awoke from their nap and began fussing loudly in their playpen. I cleared my throat, snapping myself out of the odd trance connecting Clarissa and I.

“Well, duty calls,” I said, forcing a polite smile. “But thank you again for all of your help today, Clarissa. It was lovely having you here.”

Clarissa gave me a small, sad grin that didn’t quite reach her eyes. “Of course. I really should take my leave now.” She stepped forward suddenly, as though extending for a hug, but then appeared to catch herself, stopping short instead. “Goodbye, Olivia. We really should meet up for coffee sometime.”

I nodded. “Yes. We should.”

I watched Clarissa’s silhouette retreat, her low heels clicking rhythmically against the floor, as an unsettling feeling sank into my gut. I couldn’t name it exactly—longing? Loss? Like I was watching a glimpse of something special disappear from view without fully grasping what it was.

Still, I shook off the heavy sensations. I didn’t have much time to wallow in them anyway, as Elliot’s ear-piercing wails escalated from the playpen, demanding attention.

…

I collapsed later that evening onto the living room sofa, the strange interactions with Clarissa persisting in my mind. When Nathan arrived home from work, I recounted the odd events of the afternoon, including Benjamin’s confusing assumption.

Nathan listened thoughtfully, although I could tell the convoluted details weren’t striking him as strangely as they had me.

“I’m sure it’s just sheer coincidence that Clarissa bears a resemblance to your late mom,” he finally remarked with a shrug. “You know how sometimes complete strangers can look eerily similar.”

I nodded slowly, considering his words. Nathan had a logical point. It was rather silly of me to get so inexplicably worked up over a chance similarity.

“You’re probably right. I guess my hormones must be making me overly sensitive these days.”

Nathan chuckled and leaned over to give me a tender peck on the lips. “Well, speaking of hormones, don’t get yourself too stressed, Liv. We’ve got that big exciting doctor’s appointment coming up. Next week, right?”

I jolted slightly at the mention of the appointment. In my swirling thoughts, I had nearly forgotten.

“Next week?” I asked. “It’s scheduled for this Thursday afternoon.”

Nathan’s face fell, smile disappearing. “Wait, seriously?” he sputtered. “But I swore it was marked down for next Friday.”

My heart sank as I watched him mentally scroll through his calendar. I knew already what was happening—Nathan was realizing he was double-booked.

“Shit,” he uttered, the curse confirming my fears. “Liv, I’m so sorry… I already have a meeting with the association that morning. And I can’t miss it.”

My nerves knotted up instantly with disappointment and rising panic. That glimpse at our growing baby was all I could think about recently. We were supposed to find out our baby’s gender that day.

“Nathan, that appointment is so important,” I insisted. “Isn’t there any way you can call out of the meeting, just this once? Surely the association would understand.”

“I wish nothing more than that I could.” Nathan pressed his lips together regretfully. “But it’s so early on in my probation period. If I bail now, it’ll leave a terrible impression.”

My heart sank further as I processed the situation. Nathan was clearly distraught, hating to let me down. And honestly, I understood—he had worked so hard to get on the association. We both had.

“It crushes me to miss part of the appointment,” Nathan said gently, grasping my hands in his. “But tell you what—I swear on my life that I will find a way to be by your side again before it’s over.”

Despite my lingering sadness, seeing the desperation in my husband’s apologetic eyes managed to dull the sharpness of my disappointment.

“Okay.” I sighed, resigning myself to his compromise. “Just please do your absolute best to make it there, even if you’re a few minutes late.”

Nathan squeezed my hands gratefully. “I promise I’ll be there, come hell or high water,” he said gently. “I wouldn’t dare miss the big gender reveal.” He pulled me into his sturdy, reassuring chest then. And wrapped in his arms, my frustration ebbed slightly.

Still, as we lay together in the darkness later that night, worrisome thoughts still plagued me about Nathan’s reassurance.

Would the crucial association meeting really wrap up on time for him to make it? Or in a worst case scenario, would I potentially have to navigate the peak of our appointment—including learning our baby's gender—alone? It was almost too much uncertainty to handle..

Eventually though, from pure mental exhaustion, I somehow drifted off to sleep.