“What? Why?” he asks, sounding surprised. “What’s wrong? Olive, talk to me.”
I shake my head. “I’m done. This is over. Please go and leave your key.”
He grabs my wrist and steps closer until he’s so close I can smell his cologne and feel the warmth of his breath. “Olive…”
I shake my head again and pull away from him, backing up. “Please don’t. Not now.”
“Just tell me why.”
My eyes fill with tears. “It was just a bit of fun. Right? And my letters? The ones you let that woman read… it was all a big joke to you. Just leave.”
His eyes flash with a look I don’t recognize, but he nods in agreement. My heart crumples further when he doesn’t protest. In fact, he doesn’t say another word. He just leaves the key on the side table as he walks out of my apartment and out of my life.
“What a dick,” Zoe growls after I tell her all about Harrison’s fiancée. “And you had no idea?”
“No. If I did, I wouldn’t have picked him over my match. Though it seems like that doesn’t matter because he’s the one that Rita gave my letters to if I am to trust what his fiancée said.”
Zoe looks at me skeptically. “You met him randomly at Rita’s office though.”
It’s true that we bumped into each other, but how did he get my letters? Why would Rita match me with him if he’s engaged to someone else? Now I’m wondering about that first letter. Did he somehow steal it from Rita? Is that why I had to write a second letter?
I’m so confused and heartbroken, I can’t seem to think straight.
“I don’t know how or why; all I know is that the woman knew things that she could only know if she read my letters to my match. She made it seem like it was a thing he does all the time.”
Zoe frowns and shakes her head. “I don’t think Rita would do something like that.”
“She seems so nice and sincere,” I say, agreeing with her.
“Maybe you should talk to Rita?”
I laugh, sounding almost maniacal to my own ears. “What’s the point? Harrison’s engaged.”
Zoe sighs and pours both of us more wine. “I just don’t understand.”
I take a big swig of my wine and pray that it drowns out some of the pain I’m feeling. “Me either…”
“I guess there’s a plus side,” Zoe says.
I raise my brow skeptically because from where my broken-hearted self is sitting, there isn’t a plus side.
“You found your muse again.”
She’s not wrong. I have done nothing but cry and write since I sent Harrison away. Well, and drink wine, eat my weight in chips, ice cream, and frozen pizza.
“I’m not sure the muse coming back makes up for the heartache,” I say sadly.
“Sometimes you just have to find the brightest part of the dark times and live in the gray.”
“Sounds pretty sad and lonely,” I whine.
“Not when I’m sitting in the dark with you.”
I lean over and rest my head on her shoulder. “Thanks, Zoe. You’re the best friend a girl could ask for.”
“I know,” she says, laying her head down on mine. “It’s going to be okay.”
I wish I was as convinced as she is that things will be okay. Right now, all I can think about is Harrison with that woman laughing at me and my naivety.
