Two weeks since the Zoom call, since I saw her face pretending everything was fine when we both knew it wasn’t. Two weeks of silence. Two weeks of pretending I’m not checking my phone every hour like a damn teenager.
Now I’m back in Tacoon, and the air feels heavier, maybe because it’s colder, perhaps because I have new memories of her that hurt the same or more than before.
I pull into the site. Josh and Audrey are mid-convo with the foreman. I shake hands, nod when I need to, and pretend to care about floor plans. But I’m scanning the lot like an idiot.
She’s not here.
When the moment’s right, I ask, casual as I can, “Olivia not joining us today?” Audrey doesn’t even look up. “She’s around. Said she’s handling some things. She’ll jump in when she’s ready.” That doesn’t sit right. Oliviadoesn’t “handle things.” She shows up, leads the damn room, and makes people listen. When the meeting wraps, I barely wait until I’m in the truck before texting her.
Me: Hey, we just wrapped up. Surprised you weren’t there. You were excited about this.
Olivia: I’m back in Tacoon. Just handling a few personal things before I jump in. Everything’s okay.
But it doesn’t feel okay. That’s not her tone. Not really.
Me: I’m heading to your parents’. I’ll meet you there, and we can talk.
Olivia: I’m not staying there.
Me: Where then? Rental?
Olivia: No. I bought a place.
Me: Wait. You guys moved here?
Olivia: Not we. Me. With the boys. It’s a long story.
That stops me cold. What the hell is happening? I stop thinking. I type.
Me: Send the address.
Olivia: Ethan… I can’t. I’m with the kids. I’m dealing with some stuff.
Me: Liv. Send it. Now.
The pin drops. I’m already driving.
The place is tuckedbehind a line of pines on the edge of town. It has a hell of a view. You can see the city, the quieter side. You have pines all over it, and a lake at the back. The front door opens before I make it halfway up the walk. She’s barefoot, in jeans and a white tee, hair tied up. She looks tired but offers me a smile anyway. I walk inside. She shuts the door behind me.
“What the hell happened, Liv?” She doesn’t stall. “David cheated.” I stare at her, in total and complete shock. This motherfucker. “Wait, what? With whom? When was this?”
She rolls her eyes. “Yes. With his assistant. A couple of weeks ago, when I went back home. Any other questions? My chest lights up with rage. “You’re fucking kidding. I’m going to kill him.” She snorts. “Get in line.”
“Liv—”
“Look, I don’t need a white knight, Ethan. I’m furious, I’m sad, and even a little ashamed. But I’m not a weak ass woman. He cheated because he wanted to, and he could. He chose someone who kept her calendar and legs open for him. I made my fair share of choices, too.”
My fists clench. “Still?—”
“No, Ethan.” She steps closer. “I already yelled, broke some things, went to therapy, and moved out.” I glance around as she talks. The space already feels like her—it’s warm, sharp, a little chaotic, but alive. “So, you just... left?”
“I called my lawyer the minute it happened. And the city didn’t feel like home anymore. So, I came here, talked to my real estate agent, found this place, and I’m working on it.”
“And the boys?”
“They’re okay. Kids are more resilient than we think. They know we’re starting over. I’ll make it work.” I look at her and feel like I’m seeing her for the first time again. She’s on fire and holding it steady at the same time.
“You should’ve told me.”
