Total pages in book: 78
Estimated words: 74004 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 370(@200wpm)___ 296(@250wpm)___ 247(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 74004 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 370(@200wpm)___ 296(@250wpm)___ 247(@300wpm)
He hesitated, his body stiff with indecision before he nodded back and turned, walking out the door. I made sure to memorize his broad shoulders, tapering down to the most perfect ass. I took in his swagger and imprinted it on my mind. Just in case I never saw it again.
He said he was there for me, but not how I needed him. And right now, I needed time to figure out what I could live with.
And what I couldn’t.
27 Olivia
“I think I’m going to dye my hair pink.” Oaklyn’s voice barely registered.
“Sounds good.” I didn’t even bother to look up from picking at my nail polish.
It’d been almost two weeks since I’d walked away from Kent the first time. Less than a week since I spent my last day in his hotel. Less than a week since he’d walked away from me.
I had no need to see him anymore. Except that my body desperately ached for him. Except that I missed hearing his voice and watching him laugh. Except that missing him hung like a fog around me—a buffer keeping any happiness out.
It was dramatic—rationally, I knew that, but my heart didn’t care. It was a dramatic bitch that said screw rationality.
I’d moped around and clung to my phone, typing message after message only to delete them. He knew where I stood, and as devastated as I was, I wouldn’t beg. As much as I wanted to say I wouldn’t beg because of pride, the reality was that I knew it wouldn’t change anything.
I saw the same hurt in his eyes—the hope that we could work past this, that I would step up and make a better decision. I saw the plea for me to just be strong and tell Daniel about us. But as much as the hurt clung to me, so did the fear, and I couldn’t bring myself to do it. It didn’t matter how much he loved me, and I loved him, sometimes love wasn’t enough.
Which left me sitting in Callum and Oaklyn’s living room, crossed legged, staring at my hands, picking at the last of my nail polish. I hated fidgeting. It showed weakness and nerves, and I was Olivia Witt. I didn’t show any of those.
At least, I didn’t used to. Now, that’s all I was—a hollow body without the armor I used to wear before Kent.
“You’re not even listening.” Oaklyn’s voice whipped through the fog.
Lifting my chin, I forced myself to meet her eyes. “Yes, I am,” I lied.
She blinked slowly, giving me a deadpanned stare. “Really? Because I just said I was going to leave Cal to get a sex change, and I got nothing from you. No dick jokes or anything.”
The reason I’d been avoiding her eyes in the first place hit me; the concern, the pity, the worry. If I could block them out, maybe I could pretend it was just me making a big deal out of nothing. But staring at Oaklyn now, there was no pretending this break up wasn’t a devastating massacre.
“I’m sorry. I just…I’m a mess.”
“I know.”
“Thanks,” I said dryly.
“You know what I mean. I hate that you’re hurting, and I’m your best friend, so of course, I notice it no matter how much you hide.” She reached across the cushion between us and held my hand, lowering her own gaze now. “Maybe it’s better it happened now than later.”
Her words hit me like a slap to the face, and I snatched my hand away from hers. Oaklyn always played the devil’s advocate for me as I did with her, but right then, I didn’t need her rationale.
“There wasn’t supposed to be a later,” I argued. “Us breaking up shouldn’t have happened at all.”
She sat back and shook her head, not letting me hide behind the perfect future I’d pictured for Kent and I. Her look let me know she would drag out reality. Her look let me know she’d been soft and caring long enough, and it was time to face the truth. I both loved and hated her for what she was doing. I knew it would ground me and pull me back from my emotional ledge. I also knew it would hurt like a bitch.
“What did you expect to happen, Olivia? It was a lose-lose situation for him.”
“I expected him to stand by me, no matter how long it took,” I proclaimed, stabbing the couch. “I expected him to want me enough—to love me enough.”
“Put yourself in his shoes. What if someone asked you to lie to me? Lie about something that could do irreparable damage if I discovered it on my own. Something that would hurt me to find out you lied about. The longer the lie goes on, the bigger the damage it can cause. He had just as much to lose as you if the lie continued.”