She picks up on the second ring. “Hey, babe.”
“Hey,” I say, forcing a smile into my voice. “I called earlier.”
“Yeah. Sorry, I’m out with Leo and totally spaced out. We ran into some people and lost track of time.” There’s a pause. “Is Olivia one of those people?” My jaw clenches. “Yeah, actually, she is here with her sister, or was here, I don’t see her around anymore.” Liar, she is right in front of you, twenty feet away, but still very close to you. I don’t have to lie: Hannah is not here to see it, but she knows about Olivia —not every detail, but enough.
And I know that by telling her just that, her mind will go places that it doesn’t need to go. Fuck. What am I doing? She’s not stupid. She knows what Olivia meant to me, means. She knows I loved her, that I haven’t loved another woman the way I loved her. And that even maybe I still do.
“Is she doing okay?” This woman is a saint. Even after all, she asks for her. Now I feel like a fucking piece of trash. I was just between Olvia’s legs, and now I need to tell my wife that she is doing well? She was right, there won’t be next time. This can’t happen again. I need to apologize.
“Yeah, she seems fine.” Silence stretches thin between us. Then her voice softens. “How are you holding up? I’m happy you are out. You guys deserve that,” I exhale, watching Olivia pace nearby, her hand clenched into a fist. “Yeah. I’m fine. It’s been good to have a little distraction.”Yeah, right.
“Claire has been asking about you. Leight lost her bunny again.” I huff a breath. “She’s probably hiding it under the couch again.” Hannah laughs, the sound familiar and warm and a little too far away. “We miss you,” she says. “The girls do. I do.” Guilt slices straight through me. God. “I miss you too.” She’s quiet for a moment. “Just… don’t shut me out, okay?”
“I won’t,” I lie. “I’ll let you go. Call me tomorrow?”
“Yeah. I will.”
“Love you.” I look over just in time to see Olivia walking my way. “Love you too.” I end the call, but the tightness in my chest doesn’t let up. I watch her as her shoulders sag slightly. She looks haunted. She presses a hand to her temple like the weight of everything is finally sinking in. I step forward. She holds up a hand without looking at me. “Don’t.”
“Liv—”
“No, Ethan, just don’t.” Her voice is controlled, but it’s cracked at the edges. I stop, nod once, stepping back. Her phone rings again, and she answers, this time softer. “Hey. I know, I’m sorry. I got caught up.” She steps away so I can’t hear her conversation, but I hear just enough. “Love you too.” It hits like a punch to the ribs. She ends the call, shoves her phone into her purse, and turns away from me.
“We need to talk,” I say, stepping forward again. Her eyes flash. “No, we don’t.”
This stubborn woman. “Olivia.”
“Nothing happened, Ethan. And nothing willhappen again.” Her voice is sharp. It feels final, like a blade cutting between us.
“We can’t do this,” she continues. “Not to us. Not to them.” Us. Them. She’s trying to draw the lines. Okay, I get it. I stare at her. My body is still humming from her taste. “You really believe that?” I ask quietly. She straightens her shoulders, lifts her chin. Looks me dead in the eye. “I have to. We have to.” I nod slowly, biting the inside of my cheek. “Whatever you say.” But we both know the truth. We’ve already crossed the line. And I’m not going to pretend I don’t want to do it again.
CHAPTER ELEVEN
OLIVIA
The morning moves slowly,as if time itself is dragging its feet, not just me. I stay in bed longer than I should, but hey, I’ll take any extra sleep I can. I need it. My body is exhausted, and it looks like my mind is competing with it. I can barely keep my eyes open right now. Last night still lingers in my head. His hands, his mouth, the way he said my name, like it still belonged to him.
I sigh and grab my phone. Two messages. Not from David, not from work. From him.
Ethan: Sorry about last night, you were right. We crossed a line, well, I crossed a line, and we shouldn’t have. This isn’t fair, to you, to me, or them.
Ethan: I let myself go. I got caught in the moment. It can’t happen again, it shouldn’t. We shouldn’t… fuck
Ethan: Coffee as a peace offering? Joe’s 10:00 a.m.?
I look at the time, it is 9:27 a.m. I don’t know what the hell to reply. What can I say? I’m aware of what happened, and while he is blaming himself, I can only think that I’m equally guilty. Yes, we did cross a line, and no, we shouldn’t be doing that. But this isn’t his fault. I didn’t stop him. And if I’m being honest with myself, I don’t know if I’ll stop him if he tries something again.
By the timeI pull into Joe’s parking lot, it’s 9:53 a.m. And of course, he is already there. I’m never late to anything, but today, I didn’t want to be the first one here. He is on the same table we used to sit back in the day. The one that has “the best” view. It just looks out onto the street, but it is the only window where you can see the old church and the mountains in the background, so it offers a nice view. Being here, it feels like no time has passed. That we are still those kids who once fell in love. And I hate to admit it, but it feels nice.
I sit on the seat in front of him, my heart is pounding, and I can’t even look him in the eye. Why am I so nervous? He is the one who wanted to talk. We are adults; we can have a nice conversation, admit we werewrong, apologize, and promise never to do it again. Right?
He starts to speak, but I lift a finger to shush him. The first sip of coffee is sacred, and I haven’t had one yet, so he needs to wait. After that first sip warms my body, I take a deep breath. “Okay,” I say. “Friends?” This is good, this isn’t too much. We don’t need to talk about what we did, right? What for? We got this. He starts to apologize, but I cut him off.
“It was a mistake, we had a moment, alcohol was involved, there were too many memories triggered, we cave, we are aware of it. That’s all.”
“But,” He looks so confused right now. “Ah,” I stop him again, “We are adults, we can move on without having to talk about it.” He tilts his head, trying to understand why I am being so calm. And truth is, I would kill to know too. “Just like that?”
“Yep, just like that.” I extend my hand to shake his; we do, and then we actually move on.
