Chapter 45Olivia
Olivia
I taste the tart and sweet blend of my mango margarita, slurping the remnants of the sugar rim. “Whoever said a broken heart can’t be cured never had a margarita and guacamole,” I pipe up.
Lauren’s elbow is set on the wood high-top table, chin in palm when she answers, “Ah, maybe dragging your ass out was worth it.”
My eyes roll as I reach to the basket of chips settled between us. “On a Thursday night. You know, work killed me this week,” I argue, scooping guacamole on the tortilla. “I was fine just being a sloth on the couch.”
I munch on the chip, hints of cilantro and lime slapping my taste buds. Her head tilts, auburn waves dangling to the side as she skims her gaze over me. “Speaking of, did you forget to change your clothes?”
My brows knit as I swallow the bite of food. “What?” I drop my eyes, tugging my long locks to the side to reveal the oversized graphic tee under my denim jacket. “I could look worse. Screw you.”
“My point is ,” she emphasizes, “you’re sulking. No guy is worth sulking over. Ever .”
A scoff escapes me as I reach for the stem of my drink. “Please, that is such a crock of shit. Everyone is allowed to cry over someone.” I flip my free palm up, trapping her stare with mine before sipping my margarita.
My head turns to scan the bright yellow and pink walls of Bonita’s, a dusky lighting subtly muting their vibrance for the evening. “You’re as sassy as it gets, Liv. Use that to your advantage,” Lauren suggests.
My eyes widen as I set my drink down, my fingers clearing my long bangs from my eyes. “Well, it seems I may have done that already,” I answer mockingly. “Otherwise, I’d be with Cade right now and not stuffing my face with Mexican food.”
She sighs, holding both palms out. “What do you wish you would’ve done? Swallowed your pride?”
I huff a breath, planting my cheek in my hand as I reach for another chip. “Yes. I’d be much happier right now.” My fingers slap the dipped tortilla in my mouth, only for me to munch on the smashed avocado.
“You’d also be bottling anger up,” Lauren counters. “Until one day, you’d let it all explode. Come on, you know that’s not healthy. You did the right thing.”
I shake my head, my gaze locking on the neon green cactus sign above the bar.
“You want to know what’s weird? I wasn’t as upset about his meetup with Jenna as I was about the fact that she gave him the ring.
Don’t get me wrong, I’m livid about that too, but I don’t know.
I know he’s telling me the truth, and I have no reason to doubt his intentions.
But it’s the damn ring that’s pestering me the most.”
Wafts of caramelized onions baptize the air as a sizzling plate of fajitas passes our table. “Why are you so attached to it, Liv?” Lauren’s voice is laced with sincerity, almost sympathy.
Cade’s left a few voicemails since Saturday.
“Olivia, can you please pick up? ”
“Olivia, come on. This is me. ”
“This can’t feel right to you. It doesn’t to me. Please, just let me in. ”
More than misery, I’m haunted by disappointment. I started this journey to find a man, only for it to crash and burn in an explosion of torn hearts.
Finding out that Cade’s ring was a gift from Jenna was like a sucker punch to the gut. Its meaning is tarnished, just like the discolored stainless steel I wear around my ankle.
After Cade confessed to his encounter with Jenna, it dawned on me that maybe he’s not the person I thought he was. And maybe I have been blinded.
But boy, he was so incredibly perfect.
My mind rewinds, and suddenly I see my unsteady fingers pluck the ring from Nurse Joy’s hand. Ever since that day, Cade was flawless .
No imperfections.
No faults.
I miss the way I thought of him. I miss that feeling of finding someone the universe sent to me because he was exactly what I needed. Because if he was exactly what I needed, he could never disappoint me.
I’ve been high on an intensely addictive drug, being fed an overwhelming number of endorphins, only to plummet down to the concrete.
Every organ inside me depletes, but I’m not so sure what bothers me more—losing Cade or losing the idea of him.
Maybe I did fall in love with him prematurely.
But what is “falling in love” anyway? People say and hear the phrase all the time, but what does it actually mean?
It’s an abstract concept. Something you can’t describe, but you know it’s there when you feel it.
It’s tangible.
Just like the rays of the sun once were for us.
Cade
I lift my backward snapback, running a hand through my hair as I head behind the bar. The crowd accumulates, a couple women squeezing through a few bodies to slide up to the counter.
“What can I get you?” I say, placing a paper coaster in front of each of them.
The brunette points to the TV menu on the reclaimed brick behind me. “I’ll take a twelve ounce of the number four.”
“I’ll do a twelve ounce of the number seven,” her friend chimes in.
“You got it.”
I turn to grab two glasses, only to spin back to the tap faucets. My hand wraps around a lever, and then Jake’s idling beside me to service his customer. “Do what you have to do in the office, we’ve got it under control out here,” he assures.
My eyes remain glued to the metal nozzle. “I’m going a little stir crazy. Sometimes I just need to keep myself moving.”
“I hear that,” Jake says.
“Yeah,” I breathe before walking the two beers over. “It’s sixteen.” The brunette shines a smile as she extends her credit card over the bar top. “Do you want to keep the tab open or closed?” I ask.
“Open.”
“Sounds good.” I toss a friendly smile before turning to swipe and store her credit card. I’m walking back and forth behind the bar, assisting a few more people until Nikki’s planted at my side.
“You’ve got some oglers,” she teases, dropping a couple dirty glasses in the three-compartment sink. “The young brunette, especially.” She inches closer to my side, her soft black curls poking my peripheral vision.
I smirk, swiping another credit card through the tablet. “You flatter me too much.”
“They’re cute. And let’s be honest, you could probably use a rebound after Jenna.”
“Is this a therapy session or work?” I tease, my palm tapping her shoulder as I walk around her.
When I exit the bar, my attention jerks to the hollers at my left—a group of guys standing around that wall .
My boots decelerate along the polished concrete, still journeying to the rear hallway. The exposed brick immediately sprays her floral scent inside my body—that very smell I inhaled when my lips brushed hers.
I tasted those lips for the very first time against that wall.
Everything I lost in my relationship with Jenna was found in that one damn kiss. It was life-altering. And I knew, I knew , Olivia was mine to keep.
Her absence taunts me without mercy, my attempts to mend the open gash failing miserably ever since.
Now I know why.
Olivia’s a hopeless dreamer. She’s the woman who sat in a café that Saturday morning, thinking of all the ways she’d return to the man who saved her. Thinking of all the ways she could thank him, never knowing she was reviving the other man sitting behind her.
And once upon a time, she dreamed those men together.
On a damn Post-it note.