our daughter (marina fanfic)

Chapter 32

Carina's POV

"She did WHAT?!", Maya gasped after she heard her daughter had stormed out of her therapist's office in the middle of the session. 

"How long ago was that", I asked, trying to stay calm. 

"She left about 45 minutes ago. I assumed she would have come straight home, which is why I didn't call right away", Sarah explained. 

"Yeah no, she's not here", Maya replied. 

"How has Olivia been at home by the way?", Dr Hopkins added. "How has her mood been?"

Maya and I looked at each other, trying to have a conversation just by the looks of our faces. 

"Umm she has seemed fine?", Maya spoke. "She was happy she was able to start soccer again a while ago as we talked about, but nothing out of the ordinary. Her grades are great as always", she added. 

"She's still eating well?"

"Si, she eats at home and at school", I replied. 

"Okay, I'm glad to hear that. I can try to call Olivia as well. I'll let you both know if I hear anything okay? She's a good kid, I think she just needed some space to breathe", the Dr said confidently. 

"Okay thank you, we'll try calling her now", I replied as Maya pressed the end button on her phone. 

Maya quickly pressed Olivia's contact information and tried calling her. The line kept on ringing but there was no one replying. 

"God dammit", Maya let out a shout as she combed her hair with her fingers. "Why isn't she answering?". 

"I don't know bella. Hopefully, Dr Hopkins was right, that she just needed a breather. We'll try calling again soon. It's only 4 pm", I reassured. 

It was clear that something was bothering our daughter, but Maya and I had no idea what. 

Olivia's POV

I sat at the field, not clear about what the time was. My phone was buzzing occasionally, but I didn't pay attention to it. Sometime later I reached for my phone and saw that it was already 7 pm. I had been here for four hours. Shit, my moms must be so mad. I didn't wanna go home. 

As soon as I had stormed out of my therapist's office earlier, I felt a wave of anger and frustration wash over me. I didn't want to talk to anyone, especially to my therapist or my moms. I just wanted to be alone. I was tired. I didn't understand, why school was making me this stressed and overwhelmed. I still got good grades. Yes, I felt like I was drowning under the workload and the pressure, but I was still completing it.

I walked back into my house feeling defeated. As I opened the door, I saw mom and mama sitting on the couch and they turned to look at me as I walked in. I knew they were waiting for me, but I didn't care. I had just spent hours leaning against a tree, thinking, trying to make sense of everything that was bothering me, and I still didn't wanna talk to anyone. 

"Where have you been?", mom asked, her tone laced with concern as she got up from the couch. 

I shrugged, not really wanting to engage in conversation.

"We've been worried about you," mama said. "We didn't know where you were or if you were okay. We've been trying to reach you for hours", she added, her eyes scanning my face for any signs of distress.

"I'm fine", I said sharply. "I was just out", trying to sound nonchalant. "I'm not a kid anymore."

"We know that", mom said, her voice softening. "But you stormed out of your therapy session today, and we're worried about you after your therapist called us if we had heard from you"

After I wasn't saying anything. Mom looked at me with a furrowed brow. "What happened in therapy today?", she tried asking gently. 

I felt my anger rise again. Why did they have to pry into my life like this? "I left", I simply said. 

"Why bambina? Did something happen?", mama asked softly.

"I don't want to talk about it", I said, my voice raising in frustration. "Can't you just leave me alone?"

My moms exchanged a concerned look, and I knew they could tell something was wrong. But I didn't want to talk about it. I didn't want to talk about anything.

"Olivia, we just want to help you," mama said, her voice gentle.

I felt a lump form in my throat, and I fought back tears. Why did they have to be so kind? Why couldn't they just yell at me and tell me to get my act together?

"I don't need your help", I said, my voice barely above a whisper. "I can handle things on my own."

"I have homework", I added and left the room. 

I stormed off to my bedroom, slamming the door behind me. I knew I was being unfair to my moms, but I just couldn't deal with them right now. I needed time to sort through my thoughts and figure out what was going on with me. I also had work to finish. I already had lost precious study time today. 

Maya's POV

After Olivia walked through the front door, my heart leapt into my throat. The teenager had been gone for hours, and my wife and I had been frantically calling and texting her, but she hadn't responded. I was relieved to see her safe and sound, but I couldn't help but feel angry and frustrated at the same time. 

Carina and I tried to talk to her, to figure out what was wrong, but Olivia didn't want to hear it. She stormed off to her room, slamming the door behind her.

I was feeling a mix of emotions. I felt sad, angry, and frustrated. I love my daughter more than anything in the world, but sometimes it felt like we are speaking different languages. I wasn't how to get through to her, how to help her navigate the challenges of being a teenager. And after everything we've been through this past year, sometimes things felt even harder. 

Carina and I exchanged a worried look as we heard the sound of Olivia's bedroom door slamming shut. 

"Should we go talk to her?" Carina asked, her voice filled with concern.

I nodded, sighing deeply. "Let's give her a few minutes to cool off first," I replied. "Then we'll go in and see if she wants to talk."

We waited in tense silence, the seconds feeling like hours. Finally, we got up from the couch and walked upstairs, and softly knocked on Olivia's door. 

"Sweetie, can we come in?" I asked gently. 

There was no response. Carina exchanged a worried glance with me before pushing open the door. Olivia was lying on her bed, her face buried in her pillow.

"Olivia, honey, we're here for you," I said, sitting down on the bed next to her daughter. "We just want to help."

Olivia didn't respond, but I could sense the tension in her body. She was clearly upset about something, but she clearly didn't want to talk about it.

"Is something stressing you out?" my wife asked, sitting down on the other side of the bed. "Did something happen at school or with your friends?"

Olivia shrugged, still refusing to meet our eyes.

"We just want to help you, sweetie," I said, placing a hand on her daughter's back. "We love you, and we want to be there for you."

But Olivia still didn't respond. Carina and I exchanged a worried look, feeling helpless in the face of their daughter's pain.

"Okay, honey," I said, standing up. "We're here for you whenever you're ready to talk."

As we walked out of Olivia's bedroom, I couldn't help but feel a sense of sadness. I wanted to help my daughter more than anything, but I didn't know how.