Not a good idea.
Patricia lowered her head, saying nothing. Honestly, she didn’t have the energy to deal with anything else right now.
Oliver waited for her answer. And waited. The silence stretched on and on.
Still nothing. Not a word.
It felt like trying to punch through a pillow—just soft resistance, leaving him more and more frustrated. He finally couldn’t hold it in anymore and backed off a little. “Alright, we’ll go with what Sara suggested. We’ll stay one night on the twenty-ninth, have New Year’s Eve dinner with the family, and then on New Year’s morning, I’ll go with you to visit your grandma. How’s that?”
“My uncle and aunt still don’t know about us,” Patricia said quietly.
“They’re going to find out eventually.”
“But I don’t want to bring it up when everyone’s together and happy. I don’t want to ruin the holiday.”
“Then when do you want to tell them? What, am I supposed to be more embarrassing than your loser ex-husband?”
Patricia saw his anger flaring and got nervous. “That’s not what I mean.”
“So it’s no to this, no to that—just tell me what you’re really worried about.”
“I just… I want to take things slow.”
Oliver had always been a little overbearing, but Patricia was so gentle and small that he always tried to hold himself back, afraid of scaring her.
But tonight, her words crossed a line. He snapped. “There’s no more ‘taking it slow.’”
“Oliver, can’t you be reasonable?” Patricia pleaded. She set down her cup and walked over to reach for his arm.
He stepped back, dodging her hand.
Her hand landed on nothing but air.
“You not coming back with me already makes me feel terrible. You not introducing me to your family? That’s even worse. Patricia, am I just some secret you’re hiding? Am I your dirty little side piece?”
Patricia was frozen. Oh my God. How could he even think that?

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