The laughter between us is contagious.
"Maybe you can take me to Portugal one day. Show me what it's is actually supposed to taste like?"
"I would like that."
I would like that, a lot.
Chapter thirty-six
Olive
Everythingfeels…lighter,inaway.
I’d like to say I don’t know why, but I’d be lying to myself, and I’m so tired of pretending.
Avery.
Avery is the reason why.
Against all odds, I’ve found myself in a relationship that doesn’t follow any rules I know.
It’s different, and it scares me a little.
The kind that feels freeing, honest, and without limitations.
But when you add a marriage on top of that, it turns this relationship into something a little more complicated.
To strangers, he and I are in love. We shared vows, committed the ultimate dedication to each other that two people possibly could.
Yet, behind closed doors where the lie is supposed to be set free, it feels trapped in the contract that we both signed.
Because when I’m not with him, I want to be.
And when he’s asleep beside me, I feel this overwhelming sensation in my chest that is so foreign to me, I wouldn’t even be able to place it.
Then I rememberwhowe are, andhowwe got here, and I feel the need to rein it all back in. Because there is no universe in which Avery Jones feels remotely anything toward me other than lust.
My mom still hasn’t forgiven me for getting hitched without her, but she and my dad have answered my calls and spoken to me like normal.
That’s how I know they’re still mad.
I’ve been telling myself that because they’re too wrapped up in being grandparents while catering to Cassandra and Willow’s every need, but at this point, I’m making excuses for whatever I can to help make me feel a little less guilty, to make it sting a bit less.
It hasn’t worked yet, but it will.
I hope.
The last time I saw Avery, it was for one night.
He cooked for me—awfully, by the way—but it meant more to me than anything.
I haven’t stopped thinking about it.
"Ol, you in there?" Akira calls out from behind my ajar green room door. Her signature knock follows before she opens it all the way. I sit up straighter on my couch, moving my hair away from my face.
"Hey, Akira," I say with a smile, moving closer to the arm of the couch to make some space for her, but she doesn’t sit down.
"We have a day off tomorrow," she tells me, eyebrows wiggling as if I should know where she’s going with the conversation. My brain is too tired to decipher any of it, so I don’t bother. Instead, I wait for her to continue. "Do you have plans?"
