23
Olivia
‘Love you’? What the fuck is wrong with me?
I did not mean to say that when I left. I am such an idiot.
Don’t get me wrong, I do love him, but I didn't want to tell him like that. I’ve been wanting to tell him for a while now, waiting for the right time, and I guess I've been holding it for so long that it just decided to come out like word vomit.
Do I bring it up with him? What would I even say?
‘Oh hey, Josh. So, sorry I told you I loved you this morning.
Just pretend that I didn't say anything!’ No, I can't say that.
I don't want to pretend I didn't say it, but if I could take back how I said it, I would.
I'll just tell him how I really feel and hope like hell that he feels the same.
I can't think about this right now. Not when I'm standing outside Sasha’s apartment with a bottle of rosé in my hand. If we’re gonna end up having a tough conversation, I think the wine will come in handy.
That’s if she even lets me through the door.
I know she had been drinking last night when she said she was done with me, but you know what they say, the truth comes out when you’re drunk.
I’m so nervous. My palms are sweaty, my heart banging violently in my chest, and my whole body is vibrating.
I raise a shaky hand and knock lightly on the door.
I strain my ears, listening for any sounds inside but there’s none.
Knocking slightly harder this time, I take a step back, waiting. But there’s nothing.
Sighing in defeat, I spin on my heel, ready to go home, curl up in bed and ignore everything that's happened in the last 24 hours, but the sound of a lock rattling has me turning back.
Sasha swings the door open, and her expression changes when she sees me standing there. I can't tell what she’s feeling, but I think it looks like relief? Her shoulders slump, her eyes well with tears and she pulls me into her, crushing my body against hers in a warm embrace.
“God, Olivia, I am so fucking sorry.” She cries into my shoulder, body vibrating from the force of her sadness.
“Hey, hey. Don't worry about it.” I tell her, my arms wrapped tightly around her body. I pull back, looking into her eyes, “I’m the one who's sorry.”
“No. You have nothing to be sorry for.” She takes the wine from my outstretched hand and we move into the apartment.
“I do, though. I’ve been so wrapped up in Josh that I haven't taken much time to spend with you. And I can clearly see that something's been going on with you lately, but I didn’t want to push. I should have demanded you tell me what's wrong weeks ago.”
Sasha fills two wine glasses to the brim, tears streaking down her cheeks. “I don't think I would have told you anyway.” We move to the couch a few feet away and sit facing each other. “I shouldn't have said what I did last night. I was hurting. I saw you so happy, and I was jealous.”
“Okay, well, one: I'm not mad at you for saying shitty things when you're hurting. I get it and it would be really fucking hypocritical of me to punish you for that.” She huffs a small laugh, knowing exactly what I’m talking about. We’re the same in that regard, when we’re hurting, we feel like we need to hurt the ones closest to us.
It’s something I'm really working on to better myself.
“And two: why would you be jealous of my happiness?” I ask her, honestly shocked by her admission.
“You and Josh are just so in love. Like the kind of love that almost makes me want to vomit.” She laughs to herself, but I don't get what's funny. She’s engaged to someone she loves so why should she be jealous of my relationship?
“Do you not think about you and Max like that?” I ask her, hoping like hell that she’ll tell me the truth.
She lets out a long sigh, looking everywhere but at me. She stays quiet for a moment but I don't say anything. She looks at war with herself, wondering if she should tell me the truth, and my heart beats wildly in my chest. Finally, she speaks, “Max slept with someone else.”
WHAT? What the fuck did she just say? I can’t speak, my mouth hanging open, jaw glued to the floor. Sasha chances a glance at my face, and she looks so defeated and broken that it makes me want to burst into tears for her.
“When?” I ask quietly, finding my voice but barely.
“I honestly don't know. I found out a few weeks ago after you posted photos from our engagement shoot on your page. Some woman had messaged me saying she was seeing Max a few months before that.” Her eyes are red-rimmed, shining with so much emotion and I move to her, pulling her into my arms.
“Did you mention this to him?”
“Of course, I did.” She cries against me, “First, he denied it but a few days later he told me it was true and that it wasn't recent. According to him it was years ago.”
“Like that makes it any better.” I mutter under my breath. “Do you believe him?”
“Yes.” She replies, though she doesn't sound convinced. “No.” Sasha lets out a frustrated growl, her hands flying through her hair. “Ugh, I don't know.”
I stay silent. What am I supposed to say? I never in a million years thought that Max would ever do something so disgusting. I thought he loved Sasha. And, why the hell would he propose to her after everything? He’s such a pig.
“Have you asked the girl anything? Does she have any proof, actual timelines, anything like that?”
“I didn’t even reply the first time I saw the message. All I could do was panic. Should I text her?”
“Babe, I really don't know. Would it help? Would it change anything?”
“I’ve been wanting to make this thing with Max work. We’ve been together for so long, Olivia. We’ve known each other our whole lives. Do I throw all of that away over something so meaningless?”
Yes, is what I want to say, but I have no right.
I don't know what she’s going through. Someone who’s been your best friend for so long, someone who should never hurt you or break your trust. Yes, Ryan cheated on me and it hurt like hell, but we weren't together half as long as Sash and Max have been.
“Let’s say that you move past this,” I say to her, “will it always be in the back of your head that he cheated?. Will you always question if he’ll do it again?”
“I don't think I'll ever trust him again.” She replies, tears soaking her shirt. “And, FUCK!” She screams, jumping off the couch and pacing the floor. “He’s acting like nothing even happened! It’s like he can't even see how this whole shitshow is making me feel. Or he does see it, thinks I’ll forgive and forget, and he’s just ignoring it. ”
“You know what, Sash, fuck him. Fuck. Him.
You don't need that bastard in your life.” I tell her.
“You’ve been acting like a shell of who you were just a few weeks ago.
You can't live like that your whole life.” She flops back down onto the couch, looking so tired.
“Come stay with me for a while. I think you need some time to regroup,” trying to convince her.
“I couldn't do that. That's not fair on you,” she replies.
“I’m not taking no for an answer. My bed is big enough for the two of us. Now, get up and let's go pack a bag before Max comes back from work. We’ll order takeout and watch a movie.”
“Okay, fine,” she says, standing from her place on the couch, “but I am not gonna be the third spoon when Josh stays over.”
After packing as much of Sasha’s stuff into suitcases that we could, we went back to my place. I told her on the way about what happened with Conor this morning, and also my slip up with Josh. I haven't brought up what happened between her and Conor yet, though. I'm waiting for the right time.
I text Josh to let him know that I wouldn't be able to see him tonight but that I have made an appointment for tomorrow morning with a tattoo artist, someone that I’ve known since moving here.
I met him in Buttons and Books, and was so intrigued by him.
He’s a giant man and looks so terrifying.
I was curious as to why he was in that cafe, of all places.
I would have thought he'd be an underground bar kinda guy. His name is Teddy, which is kinda fitting for him when you get to know him. Tattoos covered him from head to toe, and he had piercings everywhere. And, I mean, everywhere. I haven't seen them, thank God, but after we chatted for a while, he was very eagerly talking about them all. He may look scary and intimidating, but he’s honestly one of the nicest guys I’ve ever met.
He’s the one who gave me the feather tattoo on my ribs, a reminder that I’m free of the life I was living before.
I am beyond excited for tomorrow. Josh is not.
I’ve sent over my ideas to Teddy, and he’s drawn up a few sketches.
I am in love with them, and I hope like hell Josh will love it too.
I'm pretty scared about his reaction, though.
If I could talk to his aunt about it, I would, but she hasn't brought Josh up since we ‘ended things’. I just want Josh to tell her about us when he’s ready.
Sasha and I are curled up in bed, watching Mean Girls for the millionth time. It’s our comfort movie. Her phone dings with multiple texts, but she angles her phone away from me when I try to peek, calling me a nosy bitch. “Is it Max?”
“Max probably hasn't even noticed that I'm missing,” she says, distaste in her voice.
“Well, who is it then?” I question her, seeing the guilt in her eyes, making me more curious.
“It’s no one,” she rattles off.
“Sash!” I give her my best ‘don’t shit with me’ look.
“Okay. Fine. It’s Conor.” She says so softly that I can barely hear her.
“Excuse me, what was that?”
“It’s Conor, okay? I didn't want to tell you because I thought you’d make a big deal out of it.” She admits.
“Well, it depends,” I hesitate, “What is there to make a big deal out of?”
“I kissed him.”
“You what?” I scream, rising from the bed to stare at her. I feel like my eyes are gonna bulge out of my head with how wide they are.
“Don’t judge me.”
“I'm not judging you. I'm just-” I take a deep breath, “When?”
“Last night.” She admits, covering her face with her hands so that her answer was muffled. “I didn't mean to. It just kinda happened. And I stopped after like, two seconds.”
“Sasha, what the hell? I mean, I get it. He’s hot as fuck, and he can be really charming when he wants to be. But, do you really think it’s a good idea to start something new right now?”
“No, I don't, and that's why I stopped it straight away. I regretted it immediately.” She says, hanging her head. “But, he did let me sleep in his bed and he slept on the couch, which was really fucking sweet.”
“He can be sweet.” Sometimes. “I bet that's why he wanted to talk to Josh this morning. He acted so shady when I asked if you got home okay.”
We’re quiet for a while, just watching the movie, but I am dying to ask her more about all of this. I can tell she knows I wanna ask her something since I keep glancing at her and clearing my throat, but she hasn’t said anything.
I glance at her again, and she snaps, “Oh my God, what is it?”
Startling me, I answer, “I was just wondering if you were gonna start seeing him, that’s all. Jesus.”
“No. I mean, I literally just left Max like two hours ago, so no.”
“Just be single for a while, girl! Go out and fool around with every guy you meet. Just use protection. You don’t wanna get all yucky,” I quip.
“Oh yeah, like you use protection with Josh,” she fires back at me.
“That’s different. Josh is one guy. I’ll be okay.”
“What if you get pregnant?”
“I won’t.”
“But what if you d-“
“I won’t.” I take my pill religiously, and he doesn’t come inside me when I’m ovulating. We’ll be fine.
It isn’t until I turn back around to watch the movie that I realize that Sasha turned the conversation onto me on purpose. Bitch.