The room was silent as she turned and fled, her vision blurred by tears, her heart pounding in her chest. She didn’t hear the whispers that followed her, didn’t see the look of concern on Olivia’s face as she quickly rose to follow her.
All Lillian knew was that she needed to escape. To get away from her mother’s judgment and from the unbearable weight of her own failures.
Lillian sat on the cold stone steps outside the house, her knees drawn up to her chest, arms wrapped tightly around them as if holding herself together. Her tears flowed steadily, no matter how hard she tried to stop them. The night air was cool against her skin, but it did nothing to calm the storm raging inside her. She was exhausted and emotionally shattered, andthe weight of her mother’s words felt like they had cracked her wide open.
She heard the door creak behind her, the soft sound of footsteps approaching, but she didn’t look up. She knew who it was. Olivia had always been the one to follow her when things got too hard. The one who saw through her attempts to keep everything bottled up.
Olivia didn’t say anything at first. She just sat down beside Lillian on the steps, close enough to offer comfort, but far enough to give her space. There was a long silence between them, the only sound the occasional sniffle from Lillian as she tried, and failed, to pull herself together.
"Lil," Olivia said softly after a while, her voice gentle but steady. "I’m here. Whenever you’re ready."
Lillian’s breath hitched, and she wiped her eyes with the back of her hand, trying to calm herself, but the tears wouldn’t stop. The silence stretched on for another minute before she finally found the courage to speak, her voice shaky and broken.
"I can’t do it, Olivia," Lillian whispered, her voice barely audible. "I’ve tried so hard, but it’s never enough. I’m never enough. Not for her, not for Mom, not for anyone."
Olivia reached out and placed a hand gently on Lillian’s arm, offering silent support.
"I messed up in the OR," Lillian continued, her voice thick with emotion. "It was a huge mistake. I could’ve killed someone. And...and Rebecca was there. She just fixed it like it was nothing, like I was nothing. She barely looked at me, Liv. She was so cold."
Olivia frowned, not interrupting, just listening as Lillian poured out her pain.
"And then, Rebecca," Lillian’s voice broke when she said her name. "We were...involved, I guess. I thought it was more than just work. But I was wrong. I wasn’t enough for her either. Shejust... I tried to open up, to ask for more, but she shut me out. She made me feel like I didn’t matter, like I was just a distraction."
Lillian let out a shaky breath, her hands trembling as she wiped at her tears again. "And now Mom... She thinks I’m a failure. She always does. It’s like no matter what I do, I’m never enough. I’ll never be like you or Catherine or Roz. I’ll never live up to what they expect."
Olivia squeezed Lillian’s arm gently, waiting for her to finish before speaking.
"You’re not a failure, Lillian," Olivia said softly, her voice filled with sincerity. "You made a mistake. That happens, even to the best of us. And as for Rebecca..." She paused, as if choosing her words carefully. "If she couldn’t see how amazing you are, that’s her loss, not yours. You deserve someone who lifts you up, not someone who makes you feel small."
Lillian sniffled, her head leaning against her knees as she listened. Olivia’s voice was like a balm on the open wounds she had been carrying.
"And Mom…," Olivia continued, her tone more measured now. "Her coldness isn’t a reflection of you, Lil. It’s about her. It’s always been about her need for control and perfection. But that’s not something you have to carry. You don’t have to be perfect. You just have to be you."
"But I’m not enough," Lillian whispered, her voice barely audible. "I don’t know how to be strong like you guys."
"You’re stronger than you think," Olivia replied firmly, her hand now resting on Lillian’s back. "You’ve been through so much, and you’re still here. That’s strength, Lil. And you’re not alone. You don’t have to do this by yourself."
Lillian’s breath hitched again, but this time it wasn’t from sadness. It was from the small sense of relief that came from hearing Olivia’s words. The pain was still there—raw and fresh—but for the first time in days, Lillian didn’t feel quite so isolated in it.
"I don’t know what to do, Olivia," Lillian confessed, her voice soft and vulnerable. "I feel like I’m drowning in all of this. I don’t know how to fix anything."
"You don’t have to fix everything right now," Olivia said gently. "One step at a time. And I’ll be here with you every step of the way. You’re not alone in this, okay?"
Lillian finally looked up, her eyes red and swollen from crying, but there was a flicker of hope in them. She nodded slowly, grateful for Olivia’s unwavering support. She leaned into her sister’s side, resting her head on Olivia’s shoulder, allowing herself to be comforted in a way she hadn’t allowed herself to feel in a long time.
"Thanks, Liv," Lillian murmured, her voice a little steadier now.
"You don’t have to thank me," Olivia said softly, wrapping an arm around Lillian’s shoulders. "That’s what family is for."
They sat there in silence for a while, Lillian finding comfort in the quiet, steady presence of her sister. The weight of her emotions was still heavy, but Olivia’s support made it a little easier to bear. For the first time in what felt like weeks, Lillian didn’t feel quite so lost.
Lillian leaned her head against Olivia’s shoulder, the weight of the night settling into her bones, but the warmth of her sister’s presence eased some of the pain. The tears had slowed, and though her heart still ached, it no longer felt as though it was shattering into a thousand pieces. Olivia’s arm around her felt like a tether, something steady to hold onto when everything else in her life felt like it was spinning out of control.
The quiet between them was comfortable now, the emotional rawness of the evening slowly fading. Lillian closed her eyes for a moment, letting herself just breathe, feeling the rise and fall ofOlivia’s steady presence beside her. She had always been the one to lean on, and tonight was no different.
Her thoughts drifted back over the events that had led her here: her mother’s harsh words, the suffocating expectations, the mistake in the OR that haunted her, and Rebecca’s cold, distant rejection. It all swirled inside her, a heavy mix of shame, regret, and sadness.
I’ve been carrying so much. Too much.
