Olivia shifted restlessly on the barstool. She felt a hitch of guilt for pulling Huang out of his comfortable bed. A burn of shame for her inability to deal with her own goddamn feelings. But these sensations were overpowered by the roar of emotion coursing though her, jostling at her nerves and pounding at her heart. Her body could not contain her grief, her regret, her terror that she'd lived her life all wrong. She grasped for a way to let the doctor know what she felt, what she needed, but came up with nothing.
She was grateful, then, when Huang broke the silence. "Liv?"
Her voice was soft, choked. "Yeah?"
"Is this about Calvin?"
His tone was gentle, but the sound of the boy's name brought a lump to her throat. She nodded, unable to speak.
"Did something happen?"
She took a breath to steady herself. "His father signed a form giving custody to his grandparents. They came to the precinct and—" she shook her head, biting down on her lower lip. "They came and took him away."
"That must have been awful. For both of you."
"He didn't want to go," she whispered. "He was screaming, begging me not to let them take him. I was holding him; I remember his hair against my hand. But they took him out of my arms and—" she could no longer continue.
"Oh, Liv." She looked up and found Huang's compassionate eyes fixed on hers. "I'm so sorry." Unable to bear his sympathy, she turned away.
As she sat, suppressing sobs, she heard the water come to a boil, heard a pouring and mixing and the gentle clink of a spoon. After a moment, Huang came up beside her holding the tea.
"Come on. Let's sit down."
He handed her a warm blue mug and took her by the elbow, leading her out of the kitchen.
