You Looked Down on Me Once Now You Look Up (Patricia and Oliver) novel Chapter 370

Patricia sat on the couch and slowly covered her face with both hands, not daring to make a sound.

Oliver had always been the kind of guy who knew his manners. He’d met Atticus through Patricia’s older brother. The two men had served together in the army, and when Oliver was young, he’d often tag along with his brother to the base. That’s how he and Atticus got close, despite the age difference. They’d become friends, the kind who could call each other brothers.

When Patricia got into trouble, it was Atticus who called Oliver in the middle of the night, asking for help—calling him “brother” like it was nothing.

No one saw this coming.

Now that “brother” had turned into nephew-in-law.

Oliver looked over at Atticus, his eyes deep and calm, but with something conflicted hiding beneath the surface.

Atticus, for his part, was a career military man. He wasn’t exactly rough, but he didn’t have the kind of sharp intuition you pick up working in business.

“What’s that look for? You got somewhere else to be?” Atticus asked, his voice gruff.

Oliver shook his head. “No.”

“Then what’s going on?” Atticus pressed.

Patricia, feeling the tension behind her, turned and called softly, “Uncle…”

Oliver didn’t want Atticus to give Patricia a hard time. He jumped in right after, matching her tone.

“Uncle…”

Atticus just stared.

Grandma was speechless.

Maggie fell silent too.

For a moment, the living room felt thick with awkwardness, the silence heavy enough to suffocate.

“Dad, stop!”

“Honey, please!”

Grandma hurried over, reaching out to help Oliver up. They’d met before, and she thought she knew him, but she never imagined she’d see him sprawled out like this, right in the thick of all this drama.

“Thank you, Grandma,” Oliver said quietly as she helped him up.

The second Atticus heard him say “Grandma,” his temper flared up all over again. He jabbed his finger at Oliver, shouting, “Say that again and I’ll make sure you regret it!”

“First you call me your brother, now you’re calling my mom ‘Grandma’? Really, Oliver?”

Patricia stood up, gripping the back of the couch, her hand trembling. She’d known Oliver would take a hit for this. “Uncle, marrying Mr. Padilla was the best choice I could make. I need his support and the connections he brings. This wasn’t some heat-of-the-moment thing, and he didn’t trick me. Getting married was my decision, and I thought it through.”

Atticus wasn’t buying it. He pointed at Oliver, voice sharp. “He’s smart. He’s always thinking ten steps ahead. You really think your ‘careful consideration’ wasn’t just him pulling the strings the whole time?”