"Olive?" Mom walked into the kitchen, grabbing a water bottle from the refrigerator.

I was sitting at the island, doing school work. "Hm?"

Callie was working, so it was just us.

She leaned against the island, right across from me. "Have you seen any more on your dad?"

I looked down, shaking my head.

"Okay. I just wanted to know. You haven't talked to me about it in a while."

I shrugged.

"Are you ok?"

"Yeah." I nodded.

"Liv. It's ok to be upset about it."

"I know."

"You're closing yourself off." Mom said softly.

"Sorry."

"Don't be. Just..." Mom sighed. "We can talk about it. I want to talk to you- make sure you're ok. I know this has to be a lot to handle."

"I'm fine. I don't really care." I told her. I avoided eye contact.

"Baby. He's your dad. It's ok to be sad. Or annoyed. Or angry. Whatever you want to feel."

"Do we really have to call him my dad? I know- I know that technically, he is my dad. But, like." I sighed, focusing on my hands as they rested in my lap. "Look at Callie, and her dad. Or, or Lexi and her dad. Or just... all my friends and their dads. I mean. Was he really ever my dad? I think that might be mean to say but I don't... I. Ugh." I frowned, finally looking up at Mom. "He's nothing like anyone else's dads. He doesn't even care about me." I felt the tears in my eyes multiplying my the second. I knew I was going to cry.

Mom frowned, her face all sad and sympathetic. Like I was some sad puppy. Nope. Just a kid with a dad who hates her.

"Honey..."

Tears were falling down my cheeks. I didn't bother to wipe them. They would just be replaced with new ones within seconds, anyway.

"I really don't care Mom. He doesn't care about me. I don't- I don't want to care about him. And... and that sounds so mean to say but I..." I felt like maybe I was being bratty for saying something like that. But, it was how I felt. I was safe telling Mom how I felt. She wouldn't judge me. I knew that.

"Okay. Okay." Mom nodded. "So... we'll just call him my ex?"

"Your ex?"

"Yes. Does that feel better?"

I nodded a little.

Mom smiled softly. "Good. Okay. That's good." She let out a breath of relief. She waited a moment, then, "Olive. We do really need to talk about how you're feeling."

"I'm not feeling anything." I told her.

"You're not?" Mom rose an eyebrow.

"No. I... I'm trying to not care. Like- like your ex." I liked not relating him directly to me. In the back of my mind, I know that he is related to me. But, it bothers me to think of it that way. It feels untrue. So, to use a different term felt better. I was glad Mom was so understanding.

"Baby." Mom frowned. "You don't have to put up a wall. It's ok to feel something."

"I don't want to, though." I said matter-of-factly. I didn't want to.

I didn't feel like he was worth being upset over. It's not like he cared if I was upset. So, what's the difference? He also wouldn't care if I didn't care. He wouldn't care if I was happy. He just... wouldn't care.

Mom took a breath. "I feel... better." She said, out of nowhere. "I feel like I am getting over it. Getting over him. I still feel very angry, though. That's motherly instincts. I'm angry that he would've ever even risked putting you in danger. But... I feel grateful. Grateful that I am not with him any more. Grateful you're safe, and that nothing happened. Very, very grateful." Mom spoke from her heart. She kept eye contact- eyes full of love.

I inhaled sharply. The long pause meant I was supposed to talk.

She wanted to know how I felt.

How I actually felt. Not how I wished I felt.

"I feel... mad. Mad because I know he doesn't care. But- but I do. Why do I care?" I felt tears once again come into my eyes.

Mom stayed quiet.

"I feel confused. I don't know what to feel. I'm sad because... well, this sucks. It makes me sad. But, I don't want to be sad when I know he doesn't care. Because that feels pointless." I said.

"It's ok to be upset. It doesn't matter how he feels. It matters how you feel- how you're dealing with it."

"But overreacting is dumb. Because he doesn't care." I tried to express how my brain was processing this all.

"Who's to say it's overreacting? Who else is gonna know how you feel besides you? Maybe me. That's it. He'll never know. You don't have to prove anything to anyone through how you react, Liv." Mom spoke softly, yet firmly. Setting the idea into my mind.

I bit my cheek. "I guess I just want to... prove to him that I don't care that he doesn't care."

Mom sighed. "But, you do care?"

"Of course I do. Everyone else gets to have a good dad, and I don't." I looked at my lap.

"Oh, honey. I'm so sorry." Mom felt bad. I could tell by her voice.

"It's not your fault, it's his." I looked back up at her, I needed her to know that.

She nodded a little. "You got the short end of the stick, and if I could change that, I would."

And, I knew she would. She would do anything for me. I knew that. And part of me hated that. Anything included staying with her ex- which she did. But, part of me loved that. At least I had one parent who cared about me endlessly. I got lucky to have my mom as a mom.

There was a bit of silence before Mom spoke again.

"I'm not pushing. Just gently asking. If you would like to see someone- you know, to talk about how you're feeling. Tell me, and that will happen."

"I don't need to see a therapist, Mom." I whispered.

"Okay, okay. The option is always open."

"Thank you."

"You're sure?"

I nodded. "I have you, and Isa... and I can talk to Callie." I saw the immediate happiness in Mom's eyes when I said that. I was warming up to Callie, and that made her happy. "I'm ok. I don't feel crazy upset or anything. It's not like... consuming me. I'm fine." I finished. I didn't want a therapist. Sure, it was unrealistic to think I could always just dump my emotions on my mom and my best friend. But, I couldn't have a therapist.

Mom nodded slowly, "Okay." She answered.