**Shadows of the Past: A Dramatic Encounter with Olivia**
“You promised your parents would know about the baby and accept everything!” Olivia’s voice trembled, her eyes brimming with fear and despair. She gazed at Andrew, but he seemed a stranger now—cold, his lips pressed tight. This wasn’t the man she had fallen for.
“You misunderstood me,” he snapped, barely masking his irritation. “I said something in the heat of the moment, and you actually believed it? Seriously?”
“In the heat of the moment? What am I supposed to do now… what about *us*?” Olivia still hoped he’d laugh, take her hand, and make everything right. They’d go to his parents, announce their wedding, and live the future she’d dreamed of.
But Andrew only smirked. “If you try dragging my parents into this, I’ll make sure they know exactly who you are. A gold-digger who seduced me and now plays the victim with some bastard child. Don’t call me again. You won’t get a penny from me. Sort it out yourself.” With a final scornful glance, he walked away without looking back.
Olivia stood frozen, the cruelty of his betrayal sinking in. She’d only just learned of the pregnancy and had hesitated to tell him, believing he’d be happy—hadn’t he always said his parents wanted him to marry some society girl he didn’t love? A child would change everything. But now her illusions lay shattered. Her mother had warned her: “Liv, you’re too trusting. Never put your faith in a man’s promises.” Now she had to face the future—studies, work, and a baby on the way.
She knew a storm awaited her at home. Her mother would weep; her father would rage, cursing “those posh snakes.” “What were you thinking, Helen?” he’d scold her mother. “Didn’t you teach her where this road leads?” But then he’d soften, hugging her tight. “We’ll raise the little one, love. And mark my words, those high-and-mighty fools will regret this.” Olivia already knew she carried a son, certain her father would adore his grandson. “They’ve tossed away their own happiness, but we won’t lose ours,” he’d say.
Her parents lived modestly. Their cramped two-bedroom flat in an old council estate was humble but warm. Her mother, Helen, worked in a beauty salon, painting nails—a far cry from her youthful dream of becoming an artist. Her father, George, drove a cab, though he’d once dreamed of the stage. Two battered guitars sat in their lounge, and sometimes he’d play for Helen while Olivia hummed along. “Oh, Dad, I’ve let you down,” she thought, guilt gnawing at her. But she knew they’d stand by her, even if they grumbled.
She refused to live off them. She’d made her choices; she’d handle them. Of course, she’d need their help, but tears wouldn’t solve anything. “Well then, Liv, you’re not alone anymore,” she told herself, and the thought brought an odd calm. She was like her parents—guided by heart, not sense. It was time to tell them, not to burden them, but to lean on their strength. She’d manage.
The next day, she went to her parents’ flat, steeling herself. Her father opened the door, guitar in hand. “Liv, perfect timing! We’ve got guests—old friends are here!” The small lounge buzzed with laughter, a spread of food, and the strum of guitars. A man she didn’t recognize and a woman chatted merrily with her mother. “Look at us, reliving the old days!” her father grinned.
“This is our Olivia, clever girl, third-year uni student,” George announced proudly. “And this is my old mate Victor—we dreamed of being rock stars once. Now he’s a big-shot businessman—Victor Payne.”
Victor’s wife, Eleanor, joined in the singing. They drank tea, reminiscing. “Lovely evening, Liv. Glad you came,” her mother whispered, squeezing her shoulder. Olivia couldn’t bring herself to ruin their joy—the truth would wait.
At home, relief washed over her. Her family was safe, and new life grew inside her—what more mattered? They’d understand. Hardships? She’d endure. She rented a room, but it drained her savings—she’d have to move back. Her parents had never liked her living alone anyway. She’d keep studying—the baby was due in summer. Her part-time office job paid decently, and the accountant trusted her with real work. “Why did I ever ask Andrew for help?” she wondered. “I never saw his cruelty coming.”
On Friday, her mother called. “Liv, we’re invited to the countryside—those same friends. They want you there too. You’ve been pale—some fresh air will do you good. And we’ll talk properly.” Olivia agreed. The outing might clear her head.
Victor’s country home was a sprawling manor with vast gardens. “Blimey, Victor, you’ve done well for yourself!” George laughed, clapping his friend’s back. Olivia saw how the reunion lifted her father’s spirits. He spoke of their youthful band dreams, long buried under duty.
“George, it’s grand seeing you!” Victor beamed. “Meet our lad, still at uni—reckless, but he’ll settle down one day, help with the family business.” He beckoned his son forward.
Olivia went cold. Standing before her was Andrew. “This can’t be happening,” she thought.
“What’s *she* doing here? Come to humiliate me?” Andrew shrugged off his father’s hand. “No one’s buying her lies! That brat isn’t mine!”
“Andrew, what’s got into you? Spouting nonsense again?” Victor frowned.
“You know each other?” Eleanor pieced it together.
“Sod the lot of you!” Andrew grabbed a motorbike from the garage and roared off. Silence descended.
“Liv, is it true?” Eleanor asked gently. “Are you expecting his child?”
Fighting tears, Olivia confessed, careful not to vilify Andrew. She apologized to her parents first. “Mum, Dad, I meant to tell you… I thought we’d talk here.”
“Well, now we have,” George sighed, exchanging a look with Victor.
“That rotten little—!” Victor exploded. “Leading a girl astray, then abandoning her? He’ll answer to me! He *will* marry you!”
Olivia smiled faintly. “I’m sorry. I didn’t know he was your son. But I won’t marry a traitor.”
The countryside trip was unforgettable—for all the wrong reasons. Yet the old friends didn’t quarrel. After the shock wore off, Victor vowed to rein in his son and begged Olivia not to cut them out of their grandchild’s life.
When little Michael was born, Olivia had more help than she’d expected. She even returned to uni. Michael had two doting sets of grandparents—Victor and Eleanor adored him. Andrew lived apart, never married, embittered by his father’s refusal to bring him into the business.
“Why would I want a betrayer for a partner?” Victor said coldly when Andrew failed him yet again.
He offered George a job and Olivia a role as their accountant: “Liv, join us—make it a family affair!” But she declined—she loved her work. “Let Michael grow up first—he’ll carry on the family legacy,” Victor winked at George.
Olivia raised her son, grateful for her loved ones. Marriage wasn’t a priority—she’d met no one worthy. Michael was her world, along with her parents and Victor and Eleanor, who jokingly called themselves “in-laws.”
“No husband, but the best in-laws a girl could ask for—lucky me!” Olivia laughed, content at last.
