Chapter 104 Why are People Like That

Chapter 104 Why are People Like That
Leona slowly straightened up to her full height, leaving her hands resting protectively on the handles of Olive's stroller. The frantic, shaking adrenaline that had flooded her veins suddenly settled into a cold, untouchable, and absolute calm.
She looked the gossiping girl dead in the eye, her dark gaze practically burning a hole right through her.
"My husband did not have a fling," Leona stated, her voice eerily steady, smooth, and laced with absolute, undeniable venom. "My brother Chad took his own life. And while Owen and I were at his old house, emptying it out so we could sell it, Chad's girlfriend abandoned their baby on the front porch and walked away without looking back."
Leona took one deliberate step closer, invading the girl's personal space just enough to make her instinctively shrink back. The raw, heartbreaking reality of how Olive came into their lives hung heavy and sharp in the air between them.
"Owen didn't run. He didn't hesitate," Leona continued, her words landing like precise, physical blows. "He stood on that porch, looked at my terrified, abandoned niece, and he claimed her as his own in that exact second. He didn't just accept my daughter—he fought for her. He adores both of our girls with every single breath in his body, and he worships the ground I walk on."
The girl's mouth opened and closed like a fish out of water. Her smug, malicious smirk was completely wiped away, the ugly reality of her gossip leaving her utterly speechless and pale.
"Just because your own life is so pathetic and empty that you have to stand on a sidewalk and invent ugly little scandals just to feel relevant," Leona whispered, her voice a lethal, unbreakable vow, "does not make my family a tragedy. Olive is my daughter. Hazel is my daughter. And Owen Stark is my husband. Don't you ever speak to us again."
Without waiting for a stuttered response or an apology, Leona turned her back on the stunned girl. She grabbed the leather handles of the double stroller with a firm, confident grip.
A few feet away, Diane was still softly bouncing a now-soothing Hazel against her chest. The formidable Stark matriarch was practically glowing with a fierce, terrifying pride. She looked at her daughter-in-law as if she had just watched a queen rightfully claim her throne. Diane shot one last, devastatingly dismissive glare at the girl on the sidewalk before falling right into step beside Leona.
As they walked away, leaving the girl frozen and humiliated on Fifth Avenue, Olive kicked her little feet happily in the stroller. She adjusted her oversized sunglasses again and babbled cheerfully to the passing yellow cabs, completely unfazed by the drama, secure in the absolute certainty that her Momma and her Granna had everything perfectly under control.
They found a quiet, charming little sidewalk cafe tucked away from the frantic rush of Fifth Avenue, claiming a small wrought-iron table beneath the shade of a striped awning. Once they were seated and the menus were handed out, the sheer, protective adrenaline of the confrontation finally drained out of Leona, leaving behind a cold, heavy exhaustion.
They immediately swapped babies to give Leona a chance to decompress and feed the newborn. Hazel was now tucked securely into the soft fabric sling against Leona’s chest, nursing quietly while Leona leaned heavily back in her chair.
Across the small bistro table, Diane had effortlessly taken over toddler duty. Olive was sitting happily in a wooden highchair, kicking her little feet clad in her new designer sneakers. She was aggressively and contentedly munching on a crisp apple slice Diane had ordered for her, her oversized sunglasses resting on the table beside her plate.
Despite the peaceful setting and the wildly successful shopping trip, Leona couldn't shake the ugly encounter. The girl's snide, judgmental voice kept echoing in her head, twisting seamlessly into the terrifying "what-ifs" of the impending court date. What if the judge looked at them the exact same way? What if the court only saw the tragic story of Chad's porch, and didn't see the real, beautiful family they had built from it?
Leona stared down at her glass of iced water, watching the condensation drip down the sides. For just a fraction of a second, the unbreakable armor she had worn so perfectly on the sidewalk completely fractured.
"Why are people like that?" Leona whispered, her voice cracking slightly as she looked up at her mother-in-law. The fierce, lioness protector from five minutes ago was suddenly just an exhausted, terrified mother.
Diane paused, delicately setting her coffee cup down onto its saucer. The sharp, intimidating high-society mask she wore for the rest of the world vanished entirely, leaving only the fiercely loving, protective matriarch of the Stark family.
"Because they aren't happy," Diane said flatly, her voice holding absolutely zero sympathy for the miserable girl on the street. She reached across the small table, covering Leona’s tense, shaking hand with her own warm, steady one. "And honey, they also ain't worth a single second of your time."
Diane’s gaze shifted to the highchair, her eyes completely softening as she watched Olive happily babbling around her apple slice, those two messy, curly pigtails bobbing with every chew.
"That baby is ours," Diane stated, her tone leaving absolutely no room for debate or doubt. A warm, self-correcting smile touched her painted lips. "Well, yours and Owen's. But you know exactly what I mean. Leona, look at me."
Leona lifted her gaze, blinking back the sudden, hot sting of overwhelmed tears.
"There is absolutely no difference in my heart between Olive and Hazel," Diane promised, her voice thick with an absolute, undeniable truth that settled deep into Leona's bones. "None. I look at them, and I just see my two beautiful granddaughters."
Diane let out a soft, elegant laugh, shaking her head as she thought of her son. "And Owen? Shoot, Leona... that girl had him falling completely head over heels the absolute second you two found her on that porch and brought her home. He was a goner. It doesn't matter what some bitter girl on the street says, and it certainly doesn't matter what those awful people say in a courtroom. We know exactly who she belongs to."
Hearing her name, Olive looked up from her apple. She offered her grandmother and her mother a sticky, brilliant, gap-toothed smile, completely unaware of the heavy conversation happening around her
The tight, icy knot of anxiety in Leona's chest finally dissolved, completely washed away by Diane's unwavering certainty and the bright, happy light of her daughter's smile.