I wasn’t sure what happened between dropping Olive and her sister off to park the car and coming inside the restaurant, but whatever it was clearly shook her. When I found our table, Olive was standing, and she turned to walk to the exit. To me.

I rushed over to her, ready to pick up whatever pieces had been dropped in those few minutes. Olive wasn’t paying attention and ran smack into me. I placed both hands on her shoulders. “Woah, woah Grinchy.” I stopped her quick exit. and she looked up at me. She was clearly enraged, her eyes red and cheeks flushed. “Are you okay?” I asked, although the answer was obvious.

Without responding, Olive shook her head, and I let out a deep breath. “Come on.” I grabbed her hand and without acknowledging the rest of her family, we left through the restaurant front doors.

Olive was breathing heavily and walking even faster than I was. She kept muttering to herself phrases like, “Never should’ve come here,” “I can’t do this,” and “This was a mistake.” They came out one after another, and she didn’t care at all of what everyone around us thought. She walked fast to the parking lot, searching for my car.

“Olive, let’s just calm down for a second. What happened?“

She looked up at me, and I thought she was going to break. Her hands clenched around her phone and keys. She looked tired and stressed, and I wanted nothing more than to provide any comfort that she would allow me to give her.

“I can’t go back in there, Finn.”

I nodded my head. I didn’t understand why, but I hoped she would eventually tell me, so I didn’t ask questions. I simply nodded. “That’s fine. Let’s just go.”

She looked like she was going to fall apart at any moment, and I had no words left. So I simply stepped forward, wrapped a long arm around her shoulders, and pulled her into my chest.

She settled into me with no hesitation, her face planted onto my chest and her hands laid flat on either side of her face. Her shoulders shook, and I heard a tiny sniffle. That small sniffle, tiny but so mighty, broke a piece of my heart.

She shook against me as she let out her tears onto my T-shirt. She painted me with mascara and lipstick, and I couldn’t care less; I would gladly be a canvas for her.

I could only imagine what must have happened between Sarah and Olive for her to react this way. My strong, confident, take-no-shit Olive was standing in a parking lot with her head on my chest crying so hard she was practically hyperventilating. And I was…useless. I was no help at all. What could I possibly say or do?