Chapter 16
16
Olivia
My Neverfull ungracefully slides off my arm and onto Ian’s couch, weighed down by my laptop and the multiple copies of this week’s newspaper he demanded I transport for him.
“I thought we had people for this,” I whine, tossing the copies his way.
“We do. You’re just one of the people I rarely choose.” His tart smile causes the corners of his eyes to crinkle, and I can’t stay annoyed for long. If anything, I should be glad he’s being this chill with me. I’ve been severely slacking on the column I cowrite, have only been to one meeting in the past two weeks, and still have nothing to show for Ben’s story.
The thought of Ben’s story makes my teeth grind against each other, and I hope that Ian won’t bring it up.
“So where’s my story?” he asks, resting his chin on his hands. Dammit. The expectant look on his face isn’t necessarily aggressive, but it does tell me he’s ready to lay the pressure on me. “A little birdie told me you two were awfully cozy in the city the other day.” His eyes glitter with mischief, and while I don’t want him to pry, I’m grateful Ian “the hard hitting editor-in-chief” isn’t going to be hard hitting me. He wants gossip. But how much can I tell him without ending up in the gossip column myself?
“First of all, I resent the fact that you have little birdies spying on me— a staff member.”
“You may be on staff here, Liv, but you’re also one of them .” He says “them” like the word itself is greasy, and I’m reminded that Ian harbors some resentment for the distinction between old money and new. It usually never comes to bear when he’s with me, but I guess today he’s feeling feisty.
I sigh, wishing I would’ve come up with an excuse when he texted me. Instead, I’m in his apartment getting the third degree.
“Second of all, we were on a class errand. There was nothing cozy about it,” I add, shrugging nonchalantly. My day with Ben had felt cozy, but his radio silence, other than when we’re in class, has felt anything but. I push the thought away, unwilling to let him consume even more of my thoughts.
“He was carrying your bags,” he prods, his brows raising slightly.
My eyes narrow, intent on ending his speculation. “Because they were heavy?” I say this like it’s obvious, which it kind of is. His eyes search mine, seeking the truth of the matter.
He purses his lips, like he’s considering his next words wisely. “What are you doing, Liv?
“I mean, I’ve been busy, but I’ve already outlined my angle and?—”
“No, what are you doing with Ben ?”
I run my tongue across the top row of my teeth, wondering the same thing.
“Nothing,” I tell him, because that is true. Nothing is happening between us.
“Listen,” he leans in closer from across the counter, his expression uncharacteristically genuine. “I’m the first one to call Will out for the douchebag he is.” I roll my eyes. “But things look messy from where I stand. And the Olivia Beckett I know doesn’t do mess.” He stands back from the counter, picking up the papers I tossed there earlier. He glances at the door, apparently dismissing me already. “So clean it up. And get me my story.”
“I don’t know if you’re confused, Ian,” I start, irritation prickling my neck, “but the value I add to the paper isn’t in cheap sports gossip. I’ll entertain your shallow assignments,” I pause, watching him flush. “But I won’t be treated like a junior contributor who can’t point to a deadline on a whiteboard.”
His flush dissipates, my words only unsettling him for a moment. “I see I’ve poked the bear,” he says, a smug, playful grin on his lips. “So there is something there.”
A sigh, over this conversation. “And even if there were, you would be the last person I would tell about it.” I grab my bag and make my way to the door.
“Wiser words were never spoken!” he calls out as the door shuts, the mirth in his voice evidence that he won’t hold my wit against me.
“Babe, I’m sure you look fine. Can we please get going?” Will complains from my kitchen, hurrying me along.
I take one last glance in the mirror, liking what I see. I’ve paired my blue knit dress with black Stuart Weitzman thigh highs and thrown the black cashmere cardigan I bought while out with Ben the other day over the dress. Half of my hair is swept up with a banana clip, the front pieces continuously escaping no matter what I try. This is what’s taking so long. Shaking my hair out so it's all down again, I grab my clutch and head toward the kitchen.
“See. Totally fine!” Will exclaims after a cursory glance at my ensemble.
“Thanks,” I grumble, snatching my keys off the counter and heading toward my car.
We’re on our way to a team dinner, sanctioned by their coach and caused by “the recent discord amongst the players,” or so Will said. Apparently dining at an upscale restaurant is meant to solve whatever problems the guys are having. Plus ones were invited, maybe as a buffer, so here I am. Most of the team is there when we finally show up, and Will is bristling with irritation at our tardiness.
“Andy’s not even here yet, Will,” I say, smoothing my hand down his arm. “I think we’re okay.”
He glances around the table to verify and I feel the tension dissipate almost immediately.
“Sorry babe,” he apologizes, setting his green eyes on me, that boyish grin reappearing. “It’s been a long week.” He grabs my hand, pressing a hard kiss to it, and leads me to our seat.
It isn’t until we’re about to be seated across from him that I realize this dinner will involve being in the same room as Will and Ben. Not that it should matter, but he’s been missing in action since our seminar on Monday. He’s answered my texts about class, but nothing else. There shouldn’t be anything else , I remind myself, but the disappointment remains.
My gaze lands on a gorgeous copper tinted blonde, laughing far too intensely at something Ben just said. She seems overly familiar with him, her posture not nearly nervous enough to be on a first, second, or even third date. Annoyance rolls over me before I swat it away. Who am I to judge Ben for his choice in women? Why do I even care?
I clutch Will’s hand tightly under the table, and move it to my thigh, flirtatiously glancing his way as he caresses it. I sneak a glance at Ben who, oblivious to us, rolls his eyes, smirking at mystery girl’s amusement, before recognizing the couple who just sat before him, something like alarm flashing in his eyes. He quickly recovers, giving us a friendly wave.
“Hey, Will,” he says, a tepid smile on his lips. “Olivia,” he nods, like we’re barely acquaintances. I can’t help but feel offended, even though I shouldn’t. I haven’t even told Will about my day with Ben, yet. He almost flipped when I told him we studied together. What would he do if I told him we spent the day in the city? This is for the best , I convince myself. For all intents and purposes we aren’t anything more than acquaintances, anyway.
“Hi,” the blonde squeaks with a hint of southern drawl, snatching my hand and clutching it tightly. “I’m Sloane. Where did you get that sweater? I absolutely love,” she exaggerates the word love, reaching across the table to run her hand over the cashmere.
Rarely taken aback, I stutter. “Uh… Veronica Beard, over on Newbury.” I peek at Ben to find his gaze coolly resting on me.
The girl abruptly turns to Grant, seated to her left, and grabs his arm. “Remind me to stop at Veronica Beard when we go to Newbury tomorrow. I have to have that sweater. Do they have it in anything less… dreary?” she asks, squinting one eye as if that somehow makes her characterization of my favorite color better.
“I see you’ve met my sister,” a tight, but loving expression on his face. Understanding dawns on me, and I realize this girl is most likely not Ben’s date at all.
“Sorry, I was just so distracted by how soft your sweater looks,” she all but giggles.
“I’m glad someone likes it,” I reply, deciding I find Sloane incredibly endearing. I tilt my head toward Will as I say, “This one thought it was just ‘fine’.”
Sloane gasps in mock disbelief.
“I said you look totally fine, to be clear. And yeah, I mean it’s nothing to write home about. Not worth being late over,” he adds, mumbling audibly. Sloane squints at Will, disdain seeping from her gaze.
“You look great, Olivia,” Ben contradicts his brother, apparently deciding I’m worth speaking to. “You were right when you saw it on the rack— that color suits you,” he says, reaching across Sloan to grab a piece of bread. His gaze isn’t on me though, it’s on Will, an antagonistic smirk settled on his face.
“What does he mean ‘you were right’?” Will mutters to me under his breath, sharply pulling his hand off my thigh. Fuck .
“We had to run an errand for that class we’re in and I wanted to stop by a couple stores. I could have sworn I told you,” I casually remark, wanting to kick Ben under the table for even mentioning it, but when I nudge my foot forward I most certainly come into contact with Sloane’s calf.
“Hmph,” Will scoffs. “You keep swearing you told me things, and I keep swearing you didn’t.” I hum in agreement, brushing him off, and thank the heavens when the waiter finally makes his way to our section.
The rest of the dinner continues without another disturbance; Sloane and Grant switch spots so that he can more easily converse with Ben and Will, and Sloane and I discuss the democratization of art which I admittedly know little about, but Sloane gives me quite the education. By the time we’re debating whether to grab dessert here or at the ice cream parlor down the street, I’ve completely forgotten about Ben’s subtle admission.
“The lavender bacon ice cream sounds like an odd pairing, but I swear—” I’m extolling the virtues of Little Boo’s ice cream flavors when Will cuts me off.
“I think we’re gonna get going though, right babe?” he demands more than asks, irritation lurking in his eyes.
I give in, choosing to have this out in the comfort of my home rather than Little Boo’s tiny store font.
“Oh my gosh, you’re right. We were…” I hesitate to generate a quick lie, and Ben’s calculating stare clocks it. “We were going to watch that new A24 movie together. And we already have ice cream in my freezer. But get the lavender bacon, Sloane— I promise you’ll love it.”
“Yeah, sure,” Sloane reassures me, suspiciously glancing at Will before pushing up from the table. “Hopefully, I’ll see you around. I’m here indefinitely .” She says indefinitely like the word itself is haunted and laughs.
“Yes,” I smile, eager to have a friend. “Will you be at the gala?”
“No, I’m seeing a show that night, but I’ll text you!”
I feel Will pulling my chair out, signaling that it’s time to go. “Yes— get my number from Grant,” I say, not wanting to make Will wait any longer.
Once we’re in the car, an uncomfortable silence sets in. His mouth is set in a determined line, and he hasn’t so much as glanced at me since we got in the car. He’s fuming, and for once he’s not totally wrong for it. I didn’t tell him about my day with Ben because I knew , regardless of when he found out, this would happen. Maybe I was hoping to staunch the fallout, but on some level I knew this was inevitable. My heart races as I consider how this could go, a pit forming in my stomach.
“Sloane was nice,” I blandly state.
“Yup,” Will says, dedicated to the silent treatment I’m now sure he’s giving me. I guess I’ll be the one to rip off the bandaid.
“Will,” I start, glancing at him in my passenger seat. “I didn’t think it was crucial you know I did a thing for class. Since when do we tell each other every single thing we did each day? ‘Today, I chose my checkered mug over my floral one.’ I just?—”
“Cut the shit, Liv. I’m not an idiot, and neither are you,” he cuts in, looking out the window. I pause, guilt jacketing me in my seat.
“You’re right. I’m sorry I didn’t tell you I was with Ben. I knew you would get weird and I… just wanted to avoid it, because there is nothing to be weird or worry about.” I feel the lie the moment it comes out of my mouth. I catch the fire erupt in Will’s eyes, and something in me begins to unfurl itself. Like that lie was the last one in a long line of them, the lie that broke the camel's back. It feels… not as horrible as I thought it would, and the dread in my stomach transforms into a fire of my own.
“Really? There is nothing to worry about? I told you to stay away from him,” he presses, looking directly at me now.
“You know, Will, for the first time in a long time, I wasn’t even thinking about what you would think when I chose to go into the city,” I reply, defiance settling in my bones. “I just did it. Because he offered to come with me and it made sense. There was no special calculus, no agenda. But this reaction is why I didn’t tell you.”
“I can’t trust you, Liv.” His hands tangle with his blonde waves, his eyes pressing shut.
“I have done nothing but be everything you want me to be, for years, Will. For years. But the minute I don’t let you control me, because that is what this is, you can’t trust me?” I scoff, unable to meet his gaze as I feel him look at me.
“I control you, now?” His laughter is laced with venom as he shakes his head at me. “Seemed like we were on the same page until Ben showed up.”
“A page you chose! When, in the past two years, have we made choices that center me? It’s always about you, Will.”
“So this is about control?” He gives me a withering look, full of disdain. “That’s fucking pathetic.” I feel anger climb up my throat, incensed by his commitment to this narrative he’s crafting about me.
“You know what is pathetic? The number of times I’ve watched you hit on women, in front of me , and done nothing. What’s pathetic is how you let Gen cosplay as your girlfriend when I’m not around, and I blame her . What’s pathetic is how I let you speak to me, the way you did tonight, and turn the other cheek.” I feel tears prick at my eyes, frustration welling there instead of sadness. “I don’t even know how we ended up here.” I think back to the night of that kegger, the way he told me he’d been looking for me. The way he took charge of our conversation and how charming I found it, found him. “You know, that night we met I could’ve sworn you were looking for Lily.” I finally turn toward him, contempt settling in my chest.
“I told you?—”
“I know what you told me, Will, and it isn’t even about that. It’s about how from the start, it has never felt like I’m a priority.”
“Of course you’re my priority, Liv?—”
“If this is what being your priority feels like, then I don’t want it anymore,” I say exasperated, but with clarity. I think I’d been feeling this way for a while, but was just in denial.
“Where is this coming from?” His eyes search mine intensely, like he’ll find something he can hook into and reclaim, when suddenly, he scoffs. “Something happened, didn’t it?”
I narrow my eyes at him, the suggestion making my heart race. “How dare you, of all people, ask me that.”
“That isn’t an answer, Liv.”
“Of course nothing happened! Are you—” I take a deep breath, willing the chaos of this conversation to end. “I need a break, Will. I need a break from this. From you,” I decide, relief washing over me the moment the words are out in the ether.
“I don’t,” he says, his voice tinged with confusion and laced with panic. “We don’t need a break. What we need is?—”
“You don’t trust me, Will! You just accused me of cheating on you.” I’m shaking my head in disbelief, his denial of the shit-show we’ve become astounding to me. I know I’ve been crossing lines with Ben, lines that I never should have approached, and I feel guilty for that. But I have not, and I would not, cheat.
“I…” his voice drifts off, his lips pressing firmly together. “I can’t lose you.”
I watch his jaw twitch, his teeth undoubtedly grinding against each other in irritation.
“Why not, Will?” I give him the chance to explain, to tell me why this fight should be like all our other ones. He opens and closes his mouth once, twice, before his shoulders barely shrug.
“I just… can’t, Liv.”
I roll my lips, unsurprised.
“The right answer would’ve been because you love me.”
His eyes roll, annoyance and frustration rolling off him in waves.
“Of course, I love you! I wouldn’t be over here losing my mind if I didn’t.”
“But is that love, or is that possession?” He’s shaking his head, denial etched in every line of his face. “I’m serious, Will. I can’t do this anymore.”
“You said a break, Liv. Please just… let’s take a break,” he pleads, those beautiful green eyes shining with desperation. I just want this to be over, but some small part of me can’t bear to do it. To end it right now and deal with the fall out. I never imagined what it would be like to break up with Will, but if I had, it wouldn’t have been like this.
I imagined us invincible, forever. I imagined there would be scandal and joy and heartbreak and shock and worry and hope, but that regardless we would find a way through. I imagined that our partnership, our alignment, our relationship, would be able to weather any storm because we were bound by something so much more stable than love. Will and I were bonded by this common vision we held for our futures. Those early months were dark for me, in so many ways, but Will built the concept of us with me, brick by brick, while I waded out of that darkness, and he gave me hope. It felt so immovable then, and I just don’t understand why it doesn’t feel so now. Instead, it feels suffocating.
“A break, Will,” I sigh. “And I don’t think we should go to the gala together. I think if this is going to work, I need you to actually give me space.”
His gears spin, his eyes tracking something on my expression, before he sighs in resignation.
“Yeah, okay, Liv.” He looks at me from under his lashes, his eyes weary. “I guess I’ll see you later.” He opens the car door and steps out before ducking back in. “I do love you, Olivia.”
“Okay,” I nod, his reassurance doing nothing for me. He stays there for a moment, waiting for something more from me, before shutting the door and walking away.
I believe that Will thinks he loves me. I’m just not sure he knows what love is.
My phone lights up in my center console and I check, half expecting a monologue from Will.
Ben
Hope everything’s ok?
I smile, despite myself. This entire argument happened because of Ben, but I can’t find it in me to blame him for the way it went. This fight felt inevitable, but it also feels unfinished. If anything, Ben was just blowing oxygen into the fire, which would’ve happened anyway.
It will be.
Ben
Sorry I said anything. I wasn’t thinking.
Don’t be.
Only one us had to get ice cream with Gen.
Ben
Ha. Goodnight, Beckett.
Night.
Clicking my phone shut, I pull out of Will’s complex, feeling lighter than I’ve felt in months. Maybe years. I don’t know what I’ll do next with Will, but I know that I have time to figure that out. For the first time in a long time, I feel untethered, free to question myself without contradicting all my plans. I’m accepting that, maybe, just maybe, my best laid plans aren’t everything I’ve made them out to be.