I could still remember so clearly the first night we met. The smoky club. His voice ringing above the music. The way time had stood still while we appraised each other from across the room. The sensation of all other people disappearing.
He’d made me feel things with just his gaze that no one else had ever made me feel. I’d been bold, and beautiful, and special. Like a sorcerer, he’d begun to transform me, but before his work was finished, someone broke the spell.
Jamie.
Sometimes, I thought that tour had left me in even worse shape than before. My big attempt at reinventing myself had been a pathetic failure.
“It’s so hard,” I admitted, tears pricking behind the backs of my eyes. “How would you feel if you believed you’d peaked in life by the time you turned eighteen?” I cracked open my eyes to see Zoey’s expression soften.
“Ivy, that’s nonsense. You didn’t peak on that tour.”
“You weren’t there,” I choked out. “He made me into someone better.”
“I wasn’t there,” she conceded, “but I know there was nothing wrong with the Ivy who went on that tour. And the only thing wrong with the one who’s sitting across from me right now is the fact that she allowed some guy to make her life very small.”
“What do you mean?” I said, sniffling.
“It’s like he’s a planet, and you’re in his gravitational field. All you’ve been doing for the past two years is orbiting him, and you’ve forgotten there’s an entire universe for you to explore. Get out of his orbit. I know it’s hard, and it’ll hurt, but I’m confident it’ll be worth it.”
I leaned back against the sofa and let her words sink in. Something in there had resonated with me, but I still wasn’t fully convinced. I bit on my lip and shot her a look. “Isn’t that what great love is supposed to feel like? Like that person is the center of your universe?”
“Oliver isn’t the great love of your life,” she insisted. “Not even close. A great love is not supposed to make your life feel small. It’s supposed to expand it and fill it with possibilities. It’s supposed to make you feel powerful. One day, you’ll find it, and whatever you’ve felt for Oliver will pale in comparison.”
A sad smile tugged at my lips. “For someone who’s never been in love, you sure know a lot about it.”
Zoey snickered. “You pick up all kinds of wisdom from reading romance novels.”
My chuckle was interrupted by my phone vibrating in the back pocket of my jeans.
Buzz. Buzz. Buzz.
I sat up straight, schooling my face into a neutral expression. “Okay, let me think all of this over. Thanks for rushing back, by the way. I’m sorry I had to interrupt your studying.”
She reached over to squeeze my hand. I prayed she wouldn’t notice how my pulse had begun to race beneath my skin.
“Of course, babe. Now don’t make it a habit, okay? I really do need to study my ass off right now.”
I nodded at her and stood up from the sofa. “You got it. I’m gonna go lie down in my room if you want to study here for the rest of the day.”
“Yeah, I’ll do that,” she said, also standing up and moving toward the bathroom. I waited for her to go inside before dashing into my room and pulling out my phone before the door had even closed.
I typed in the passcode incorrectly three times before it finally worked. My hands trembled as I scrolled through the notifications to his message. It had been almost two weeks since I’d last heard from Oliver.
“I dreamt of you last night. You were in my bed, your hair cascading over the side like a black waterfall. When you saw me, you gave me a teasing smile, as if you’d been waiting for me to catch you like this. Before I could get to you, I woke up. I felt an awful loneliness waking up to nothing but the cold side of the bed. I miss you, beautiful. Do you miss me, too?”
There was a ball in my throat. How could I block him? These messages, always filled with pretty words and tempting fantasies, never failed to bring me to my knees.
I sank to the carpet and pressed my back against the door. A tear carved a path down my cheek, followed by another, and then my vision blurred.
Zoey’s advice rang in my head, but my despair rang louder. My friend was right, my life was small, but I didn’t have enough faith in myself to think that by pushing Oliver out, I’d be able to expand it. I swiped the tears away with the back of my palm, afraid she would hear and realize I was crying. I couldn’t show these messages to her anymore. Not after the conversation we’d just had.
What do I tell him?
I missed him, but I’d missed him for so long by now that the feeling had dulled. He was thirty-one now, and I didn’t know this version of him, not really. He must have changed in the past two years, given everything that had happened in his life. The realization that the guy I still pined for might no longer even exist pulled a pitiful sob out of me.
I wasn’t yet ready to cut him off. But maybe I could start to make small moves in that direction.
My fingers danced across the screen as I crafted my response.
