Chapter 29
Chapter Twenty-Nine
Olivia
Without forgiveness life is governed by
an endless cycle of resentment and retaliation.
~ Roberto Assagioli
The door hasn’t even completely clicked shut when Megan appears, coming down the hallway from my bedroom.
“Were you listening to the whole thing?” I ask.
“The acoustics in here are incredible. And the walls are definitely thin. Like paper. Have you noticed that?”
I roll my eyes and smile at my best friend.
Then I walk to the couch and throw myself backward onto it, grabbing a throw pillow and burying my face in it as I scream. Then I hug the pillow to my chest and stare up at the ceiling.
“I hate being dramatic,” I tell Megan.
“You’re not being dramatic. This is big. He matters to you. And this is a pattern that has lasted over twenty years between the two of you.”
“Twenty years!” I don’t exactly shout, but the reality of that number rolls over me with a force I didn’t expect.
Not only has this pattern been in my life for that long, Logan has.
He’s been in my life since childhood. And he’s still here. Only now he lives a few doors over. And he works at my office. And, apparently, he’s about to be my new boss. And worst of all, I know what it feels like to be kissed by him and to be the object of his intense, unwavering focus. I know what he looks like when he’s being silly with Rhett, and I know how his brows scrunch with concern when he realizes he’s hurt me.
I pull the pillow back up to my face and scream again.
“This is the anger part of grief, right?” Megan asks. She’s dead serious.
“It’s the what is my life part. Is that a part?”
“I think that might be the part between shock and anger. I’m not sure.”
“He wanted to give me a hug.” I glance over at Megan.
“I know. I heard. It was a little sweet, actually. He honestly didn’t know you wanted the promotion.”
“I’m not sure that’s the point. It does help. But this is one more trip around the same old, same old with him. It hits a lot harder this time.” I sit up. “Am I being petty?”
“No. Not at all. You invested six years of your professional life at Barnes. He came in a few months ago, and already he’s stepping ahead of you. He should have thought of you. He didn’t.”
I nod.
“At least he didn’t intentionally overshadow you,” she adds. “As much as this feels like one more time he stole your thunder, I have to say, historically, he’s never shown the kind of self-awareness and remorse he’s showing this time.”
“I know. It would be so much more cut and dried if he were simply the cold-hearted man I assumed he was before I discovered the softer side of him.”
“Would it, though?” Megan stares at me.
“What do you mean?”
“Would you rather not have met this side of Logan? Would you rather have a life without the feelings you’ve started to have for him? Would you rather not have had the nights when the two of you hung out? The flirting? The way he tries to impress you? The way he looks at you?”
“I thought you were team Olivia,” I tell Megan. “Weren’t you the one telling me in time I’d get over him?”
“That was before he showed up here.”
I shake my head.
“I’m one hundred million percent team Olivia,” Megan says. “And part of being on that team means I’m always looking out for what’s best for you. Logan did not intentionally sabotage your potential promotion. He feels awful about you being overlooked. He cares about you, Olivia. And that whole speech about how he’d just wait in your chair until you were ready for him … ? And he’d seriously give you his apartment—Gran’s old place—just because you want it? He’d move here to have a view of the parking garage just so you could have the apartment you want? That’s pretty sweet.”
“Until next time,” I tell her.
“Next time?”
“Next time we both want something and he steps over me to get it.”
She’s quiet. There’s nothing she can say about that reality. She’s lived through my second-place life long enough to know I’m not exaggerating.
“I guess the question comes down to one thing.”
“What’s that?”
“Would you rather live your life without Logan, competing with him at every turn, or would you rather sometimes come in second and have him rooting for you, celebrating with you, and sharing the spoils of his wins?”
I stare at Megan. She stares back.
“I’m not saying he’s off the hook,” she adds. “One visit to clear the air and an offer of his awesome apartment will not be good enough to fix the damage on this one. But … if he were to somehow continue to show you how much you mean to him, and he continues to try to make things right? Well, my vote is to take stock of what really matters most. Is it winning? Getting this promotion? Or would winning be cultivating the relationship Logan and you were starting to build with one another? He’s still the guy who secretly paid Lynette’s rent.”
“I’m still grateful for that.”
“I know you are. That’s not the point. What matters is the type of man he is. Only you truly know what he is at the core. Is he dancing on your grave? Or is he dying a little because he was a part of hurting you?”
I sigh. A fresh wave of tears comes to my eyes. I’m so sick of crying already, and it’s only been a few hours since I left Barnes.
“Cassidy!” I suddenly remember my obligation to pick up my niece.
“I’m on it.” Megan picks up her purse. “I think I’ll just leave you here pondering the wisdom of my amazing thoughts after eavesdropping on you and your beau.”
“My beau,” I scoff.
“Hey, neither of you broke this off. He’s still yours until you officially give him the boot. Which, if you choose to do, I’ll stand with you. But I’m kinda hoping you take a minute to think about the big picture here and really evaluate his heart. People hurt one another, Olivia. That’s a part of being in relationships. I’ve hurt you. You’ve hurt me. I’m sure glad we never broke up over any of those times. And Logan hurt you. But he didn’t mean to. And he’s aware of what he did. And it seems to be killing him. I don’t think you can ask for much more than that.”
She closes her speech with a gentle smile. Then she steps toward me, pulls me into a hug, and walks out to pick up Cassidy from school.
Megan stops in the doorway. She bends down, turns around, and holds up a cookie. “Man, at my apartment, we do not get treats.”
“Not another cookie!”
“What’s wrong with you? You love these things.”
“They’re everywhere lately.”
Megan shrugs as if it’s not odd in the least that cookies randomly show up all over The Serendipity. I could probably tell her a little fairy manifests herself in my kitchen once a week tossing pixie dust and cooking with wee little baking sheets to make fortune cookies she then places all over my residence, and Megan would just smile and say, “What’s the fairy’s name?”
“Want to open it?” Megan asks.
“No. You can if you want to. You found it. It’s yours.”
“It was on your doorstep.”
“Open it. Or toss it. Up to you. I don’t want it.”
“Okay …” Megan tears it open. Then she reads it silently to herself.
“What does it say?” I ask despite myself.
“Wouldn’t you like to know.”
“Fine. Don’t tell me.”
Megan smiles a mischievous smile. Then she reads the inscription: “ Keep your priorities straight. In life, love is always the highest priority .”
She smiles like the Cheshire cat. “Oh, man. That’s so your fortune. Not mine.”
“Why? Are your priorities perfectly straight? We all could use a reminder to keep love as the number one priority. I’m not unique.”
“Okay. I’ll give you that,” she says. “So, let’s all keep love as the number one priority. Sound good?”
“Yes.” I answer her like a dutiful child.
She walks in and plops the fortune on my coffee table. Then she pops half the cookie into her mouth and talks around her bite. “Keep that fortune, would you?”
“Why?”
“I want to include it in my maid of honor speech.”
“Are you in a wedding?”
“I will be. That’s my prediction, and I don’t need a cookie to tell me what’s in my future … I will be in a wedding between the man in 2B and the woman who is going to keep love as the priority.”
I shake my head, but I’m smiling at Megan. It’s not my usual smile, but it is a smile.
“Uh-huh. That’s what I thought,” Megan says with a smug smile. “You have every right to be upset. And you need some time to work through this. But in the long run, I’ll be making that speech.”
She turns again to leave. And this time, she doesn’t trip on a cookie.
I’m left alone with a fortune taunting me from the coffee table and a head full of thoughts about what matters most in my life.