We are not going back

Chapter forty-five

I sat in the dimly lit green room of the talk show, my fingers tapping nervously against my lap. The producer had just given me a two-minute warning before I’d be on live television, and the weight of everything I was about to face pressed on me. I wondered why I had agreed to this. Maybe I thought it would give me some sense of control, or maybe, deep down, I needed to defend myself one last time.

The host smiled at me as I stepped onto the stage. The cameras zoomed in, capturing every inch of my discomfort. I tried to compose myself, smoothing the wrinkles of my blouse as I sat across from him.

“Eleanora,” he began, his voice soft but probing, “there’s been so much speculation about why you chose to protect Olivia for so long. Even when the allegations came forward, you stood by her side, and now we know the truth about the abuse you endured. Can you explain why?”

I took a deep breath, trying to find the words that wouldn’t make me sound foolish. “At the time, I thought I was doing what was best,” I began. “I believed that if I could hold everything together, protect her, protect our image, it would make everything right. I didn’t want to admit what was really happening, not even to myself.”

He nodded, leaning in slightly, as if trying to coax more out of me. “But in those public interviews, when you defended her… did you ever regret it?”

“Every time,” I admitted, my voice shaking slightly. “I regretted it every time. But I didn’t know how to stop. I convinced myself that if I kept quiet, it would all go away. That maybe she’d change, or that things would somehow go back to how they were at the beginning.”

The host’s eyes flickered with sympathy, but he pressed on. “And now, there are rumors about your relationship with President Harris. Olivia herself alluded to it. Is there any truth to that?”

My heart raced at the question. I had anticipated it, but it didn’t make it any easier to answer. “No,” I said, forcing my voice to stay steady. “There is no truth to those rumors.” I paused, feeling the weight of what I couldn’t say hang in the air. “Olivia had her suspicions, but there was never anything to substantiate them.”

The host didn’t let up. “Do you think people will believe you? With everything that’s come out, do you think Olivia might have proof of this supposed affair?”

I stared at him for a long moment, wondering if even I would be believed. “I don’t know,” I finally said. “But what I do know is that I never betrayed her during our marriage. Whatever Olivia thought was going on… that was her fear, her insecurity. Not reality.”

"If you say so," The silence in the room felt deafening. Then, he leaned in for the final blow. “Eleanora, after everything you’ve been through -everything that’s come to light- do you think you could ever forgive Olivia?”

I felt the air rush out of my lungs. The mention of forgiveness was like a knife in my chest, and the image of Elivio’s grave flashed before my eyes. My son. The one piece of me that Olivia had destroyed.

“I don’t know if I can ever forgive her,” I whispered, the emotion thick in my throat. “Not after what happened with our son. Elivio deserved better than what she gave him. And I should’ve been a better mother. I should’ve protected him.”

Tears threatened to spill over, but I blinked them away, determined to hold it together for just a little longer. The host nodded gently, seeming to understand that there were no more words left.

“Thank you, Eleanora,” he said softly, signaling the end of the interview. “I can’t imagine how difficult this has been for you, but I hope you find peace.”

I nodded, but peace felt like something far away, something I wasn’t sure I’d ever fully grasp.

***