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She didn’t.
Now, she’s in the same room as the guy who broke her heart in high school. With the guy who still gives her nightmares. The guy she apparently fucking saw yesterday and didn’t bother to mention that last night or today. Aaron used to play football. So did I. Hell, from the neck down, we pretty much look like copies of one another. We both deal with depression. We’re more alike than I thought.
Is that why Olivia is seeing me? I’m basically a version of Aaron, but one she can fix. I mean, look at how far I’ve come already, largely due to Olivia and her help. Am I her replacement for Aaron? Why in the hell didn’t she talk to me last night? Maybe she was planning to tonight and needed a little time to get herself together first. I can definitely understand that, so I need to make sure I don’t get pissed over it. As long as she was in fact going to tell me about this, that is.
Fuck. The timing of this sucks. I grab my football and lie on the couch, tossing it in the air like old times. Is Olivia going to text me and cancel dinner? Does Aaron know she has a boyfriend? He could be trying to get back together with her for all I know. Using being hungry as an excuse, I pull my phone from my pocket and text her, only to see if she’ll text back.
Me: I’m guessing our plans are postponed??
The minutes tick by with no response. She’s so busy with Aaron she can’t even take two seconds to text me back. Part of me wishes she wants me over there with her for support or something, just so I can be with her. I want to punch him in the face and I don’t even technically have a good reason. Yet. If I knew what happened or why he was here, then I could figure out whether or not to barge in.
Shit. I wish we weren’t so similar. I wish he wasn’t here. I don’t want Olivia around him for her sake, and for mine if I’m being honest. I sure as hell don’t want him alone with her. She was obviously around him yesterday. What if she didn’t tell him about me? He definitely needs to know she’s taken. That she’s mine. Not his. Not anymore.
Right?
Or am I his replacement?
Groaning, I tightly grip the football. I can’t torture myself like this for God knows how long he’ll be over there with her. My appetite is gone, but I can’t stay and wait. First, I make sure my spare key is under the mat in case she decides to come over once he leaves. Then I write a note and place it on the table with the football, telling her I left to go people-watching and to text me. Hopefully, the million thoughts and questions will stop if I’m not within walking distance of them.
Two and a half hours pass with me sitting in a parking lot, watching people come through the drive-thru at a restaurant. My muscles seem to tighten and tighten until I’m wrung to the point of exploding. My thinking is split in half. One half is all jealousy-driven. The other is worried for Olivia and what spending time with this guy may do to her. I’m in the middle of a text to Lucy, to check in with her about her trip, when my phone vibrates with an incoming text.
Olivia: Thanks for the note. Can you come back now please?
Me: On my way. Did you ever cook? Are you hungry?
Olivia: No and no.
Me: I’ll pick you up something.
After getting her some food, I drive home. I run my sweaty hands down my thighs numerous times on the way. I’m not sure what I’m going to find on the other side of my door, assuming she’s still in my apartment.
She is.
Olivia is sitting on my couch with her head in her hands, not bothering to look up when I enter. Can’t decide if that’s good or bad. I set the bag of food on the coffee table and sit next to her, laying an arm around her shoulders and pulling her to me. The squeezing in my chest lessens a bit when she leans into me. Olivia snakes her arms around my waist and tilts her head back to look at me.
“I’m sorry I didn’t text you back earlier. I know you’ve probably been going crazy wanting to know what’s going on.”
I nod as we lean back into the couch. “Crazy sounds like a nice word for it. You okay?” That’s my number-one concern at the moment. She doesn’t look as if she’s been crying, so that’s good.
“I don’t know. Are you okay?”
My eyebrows pinch together and I frown. I already don’t like where this is going. “Depends on what you’re about to tell me. Eat first.” Can’t blame me for prolonging the inevitable if it’s helping Olivia in the meantime.
We don’t talk as she eats, which makes me second-guess wanting her to do this first. I’m antsy to know already. Finally, she finishes. Olivia angles herself towards me, criss-crossing her legs as she reaches for my hand. This isn’t going to be good. She’s being too cautious.
“I was going to tell you tonight why I came home early. You know how when your siblings bring up your parents, you freeze?” I nod. “Mom sent me to the grocery store and I ran into Aaron. I froze while he was trying to talk to me. I was stunned at seeing him, that he was talking to me, but mostly I wanted to get away from him. Corey, it was bad. I lef
t the cart in the middle of the aisle and just turned and left. When I got to my parents’, I told them some excuse, got my things, and drove straight here.
“This is my safe place. I wanted to come back and I wanted to be around you instead.” She squeezes her eyes closed, taking a deep breath. “I had no clue he would follow me here. My mom must have told him where I live. Anyway, he wanted to talk about what happened. After all this time, he wanted to talk about it.” Olivia shakes her head, but her voice softens as she continues, “I had to let him, Corey.”
“Okay.” I nod in an effort to be supportive. Even though I’m dying to know, I force myself to say, “You don’t have to tell me what you two talked about unless you want to. I get that it’s between you and him.” The words nearly kill me.
“No, I’ll tell you.” A steady exhale relaxes me. “He mainly wanted to tell me the full story and how he’s worked to get better. Then he wanted to catch up. And he apologized too. That’s it, really. He’s in a steady relationship, he’s in college, and he’s happy.” Olivia shrugs like this is all over now.
It’s not.
I still have questions I don’t want to ask, but need to ask.
