YOU [RT] ✓

IX

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C H A P T E R F O U R

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olivia's point of view

"O, are you okay love?" Roger asked with one of the most concerned looks on his face that I could see through my blurry eyesight while lying down.

I quickly sat up and wiped my eyes, acting as nothing that had just happened in the past 15 minutes was ever happening. I adjusted my long sleeve flannel shirt and my pyjama shorts as I responded.

"Yeah yeah, I'm fine nothing to worry about! Just go back to bed Roggie." I replied in my croakiest yet most soothing voice I could offer to him.

"Well it just doesn't seem that way... ever since I walked in this afternoon I knew something was up. Where's Tho-"

"Don't say his name"

"Why? Where is he?" He asked from my doorway, his voice getting lower with everything he said as if he was angry.

"I just, i don't even know Rog, I don't know what to do" I said. When it came out it came out as barely a whisper, while tears started falling down my cheeks again. I was quick to wipe them away before I thought Roger had noticed, but his reflexes are obviously very good when he replied with

"Hey, don't cry please! Oh love, you'll be alright." He said as he walked over and took a seat in front of me on my bed while I tried to gather my emotions.

"You know what, no. I know you Olivia, and you can't bottle up your thoughts and emotions like this and you know that, so I'll go make tea and we can sit on the lounge and talk, or just sit on the lounge okay?"

"O-okay..." I replied as I wiped my tears. Once I had gathered myself reasonably well, Roger got up of my bed and stood there waiting for me to get up. Once I was standing he started walking out my door and down the hallway. I decided that once I get to the lounge that I'll be okay with walking with a limp. I tried my very best to walk normal, which worked until I got to the living room where Roger looked at me concerned and proceeded to ask me,

"Why are you standing... walking like that? Are you okay?"

"Yeah Rog, just come sit down after you make your tea, I don't want one."

He gave me a concerned flash as I finally sat and then quickly took the kettle off the stove and made his tea exactly as he liked it. Black tea with a little bit of creamer. I found it nice that I knew the 23 year old's tea off by heart, I think he appreciated it, especially after we hadn't seen each other in so long.

He took a seat and asked me the question that had obviously been on the tip of his tongue since he saw me so distraught 20 minutes earlier.

"Where is he? What did he do to you?" he asked, with slight anger but mostly sympathy in his voice.

"I-i-i don't know where he is, b-but he..." I said through chokes coming from my throat.

"He said that he's done with me because he was sick of the same continuous argument we were having about something-g, an-and he called me horrible names, like a s-slut, and a bitch and saying that our argument made him th-think I was a whore and he c-called me ugly too and the-then he g-gr..." I couldn't stop the shakiness of my voice. I was well and truly about to lose it.

"He did what, Olivia?" Roger asked, anger now more evident in his voice.

"He grabbed me a-and gripped my shoulders so tight where the a-are still in pain now, and-and he s-slapped me." I replied, still through chokes coming from my throat with the odd tear or two rolling down my cheek. I made it very clear in my head to keep the last bit out so Roger wasn't too concerned.