You Looked Down on Me Once Now You Look Up (Patricia and Oliver) novel Chapter 784

He shuffled forward, shoulders tense, until he was standing right in front of Patricia.

“Pattie…” His voice was shaky, thick with emotion. “I’m sorry. I never wanted to hurt you.”

He gently let go of her hand, reaching out as if he wanted to pull her close. Patricia stayed perfectly still. She didn’t step back, but she didn’t lean in either. Honestly, she felt like Oliver was making too big a deal out of all this.

She was just raising her hand to push him away when a hot tear slipped down her neck and soaked into the collar of her sweater. The heat of it made her chest tighten, and her hand froze, hanging awkwardly in the air.

He sounded so lost, almost childlike. “What am I supposed to do?” His words came out broken and soft. “What do I do now?”

“I know I’m possessive. I know I can be controlling. I’ve always been this way. I try to understand you and support you, I even get your whole revenge thing. But when you look at someone else, when you give even a scrap of your attention away, I can’t stand it. I want to change, I do, but I can’t just erase who I’ve been for decades overnight.”

He looked at her with desperate eyes. “Pattie, please. What should I do? Tell me what to do.”

It was cruel, really, the way they kept pushing each other. One wanted to force a change, the other wanted to make the other give in. In the end, it was just two people hurting and struggling with each other.

Oliver was right. He’d always been this way, and it wasn’t something he could change just like that.

But Patricia… she was the one insisting he had to. Was it any different from forcing him to eat food he hated or do things he couldn’t stand?

If he didn’t change, then what about her? With every bit more he loved her, his need to control her grew stronger. Where was her freedom in all of this?

“I’ll call the doctor.”

He helped her over to the sofa, and she half-reclined there, waiting. At some point, Jackson came in with their dinner, and Oliver went to open the door.

After about fifteen minutes, Patricia was cradling her arm, trying to breathe normally, but her forehead was creased tight with pain. After a moment, she realized something was really wrong. She hunched over, clutching her stomach, and slowly slid off the sofa, crouching on the floor. Her face was paper-white.

Oliver dropped to his knees in front of her, his voice full of worry. “Pattie? What’s wrong?”

Patricia was trembling, her voice barely more than a whisper. “My stomach hurts.”