Olivia often wonders if Elliot truly understands the depths of her perception.
She had always wanted children; a girl, if she was lucky, but a boy would have been a similar blessing. Olivia would not allow herself to have that blessing, not in an eternity, not if the world was ending. What Elliot often overlooked, so entranced was he with his four children and wife, his picture of a family, was that Olivia thought herself if not evil, carrying the catalyst for evil. Elliot had said, more times than she could count, "You would understand if you had kids." So often she had been tempted to say, "Perhaps then, you would understand if you wanted them more than anything, but wanted nothing to do with yourself."
She forgave Elliot for that which he did not know. She forgave Elliot for everything. And no, he was not the man of her dreams, he was no knight in shining armor to her, but he was family, the only family she had known for more than a week. He had said it: family is everything. Her mother was no family, not with her drunken insults and half hearted, shameful attempts at love. It is difficult to feel love from one who is removed from themselves by wine and tequila.
Family has always been elusive. Olivia has always drabbled in the tired corners of imagery, of staring jealously and wondrously at children holding their mother's hands and fathers throwing baseballs to their sons. She has never experienced sit down dinners and curfews, parents staying up on the couch till midnight so as to see their daughter walk in the door at one minute past. She has never felt the pang of disappointment sidling into her mother's eyes, or a father's worry. She has never had arms to cry into, she has closed within herself, an emotional survivalist
She does not expect Elliot to understand her or her perception, or the tear tracks, or the pain. He has his own version of life, or drear and dank and silence. She just wishes she weren't so alone to slay silent and impenetrable ghosts all on her own. She has grown tired, and weary, and small.