Olivia
“Welcome back to Unmatched, the only dating podcast that tells you to delete the apps because if there is one thing boomers might have been onto, it was meeting your soulmate without the help of a smartphone,” Kiersten says into the microphone while I stir my iced macchiato.
A lot has happened since I walked out of the studio.
A lot and nothing at all. Obviously, they had to do some damage control, and thanks to their creative minds (and maybe a little help from AI if I had to guess), they were able to come up with a new podcast series.
One that takes the limelight off me and Luca and puts it all on the listeners.
I let Kiersten take the lead, cutting in only once in a while and sticking to a carefully written, no-frills script. But by the time the episode is done, I feel like I just got dental work done. I’m numb and tired of holding my mouth open.
“Well I think that went great,” Henry says. “I was skeptical considering…well. Considering. But we haven’t lost more than a thousand listeners, which is honestly not bad. You know…”
“Considering,” I say. Then I turn to Kiersten. “That was good. I think it’s going to be a hit.”
“Not as much as a catfish series with live fish,” she says, tapping on her tablet. “But it’ll do.”
I study her, and I know she can feel it. Eventually she looks up at me, and we hold each other’s gaze for a moment.
“I’m still mad,” she says.
“I understand,” I tell her.
“But I get it. Playing people isn’t you. Even if it is for the greater good,” she says.
“No, it’s not,” I agree.
We look at each other for a moment longer, and Kiersten eventually cracks. “God. You know I can’t be mad at you forever. Even if you did almost burn the bridge, we all stand on in order to pay our bills.”
“You’re so kind,” I kid.
“You know me,” she says grittily. “Humble as fuck.”
We both laugh and that’s the end of that. We hug, and Henry sighs with relief. But it still doesn’t change the fact that there is a gaping hole in my heart. Both my friends seem to notice it and smile at me empathetically.
“Have you heard from him?” Kiersten asks, and I shake my head.
“Has he called?” Henry asks. Another shake.
“So call him,” Kiersten says. “Why do you have to wait for him to call?”
“I have called him,” I admit. “Multiple times.”
“Multiple meaning…” Henry trails.
“At least five,” I say.
“And he’s just ghosting you,” Henry shakes his head. “How fitting.”
“I think it’s bullshit,” Kiersten says. “I mean, how did he not know you worked for a dating podcast?”
“He did know,” I say. “He just didn’t know he was the subject of the catfish series.”
“Okay well, didn’t he listen to the last episode?” she asks.
“I told him to,” I say.
“And he’s still being a dick,” Henry shakes his head.
“I get it,” I sigh. “He’s mad. I used him and he’s hurt.”
“Um, excuse me,” Kiersten cuts in. “He used you too. And hurt you too. This was not one sided so the fact that Mr. Emotionally Unavailable is putting it all on you is bullshit.”
“What can I say?” I ask. “He’s a guy. No offense, Henry.”
“None taken because I would never,” Henry says. “If I was in love, which I think he clearly was, I would want to know the motive. Why you were leading him to believe you loved him while also leading a podcast dedicated to ruining his life.”
“I wasn’t leading him on,” I argue. “And I certainly didn’t want to ruin his life.”
“Well, we know that,” Henry says matter-of-factly. “But does he?”
“I tried to tell him,” I say, growing exhausted from the conversation. Honestly, I am just exhausted.
* * *
That night, I sit on my couch with a beer. I’m not usually a beer drinker. It’s not that I don’t like it; I just prefer wine. But wine reminds me of Luca and makes me want to cry because I really don’t know what else to do.
I look over at Vivien Leigh, who doesn’t have much to say. Not that she ever does. But this time her beady little eyes are extra critical.
“Don’t judge me,” I tell her as I help myself to another glass of beer. “I am really, really tired of people judging me right now.”
Vivien blinks, and I point at her.
“Seriously, Viv. I am two seconds away from renaming you Scarlett. Don’t you think I won’t.”
Vivien sighs and lays her head down, closing her judgy eyes.
“That’s what I thought,” I say before taking another sip of wine.
I am on my third glass and I don’t care.
I don’t care that I’m getting a bit sloppy.
I don’t care that I’m going to sleep like the dead (either that or bent over the toilet) and I don’t care that I am going to be hung over AF tomorrow.
Hell, maybe I’ll just call in sick. Tomorrow’s episode is a real life story about a cancer survivor who fell in love with her nurse. Kiersten’s got it.
With that, I chug half the glass and close my eyes, letting my spinning head fall back on the couch. The room spins for a moment, and I squeeze my eyes shut, which doesn’t help.
I should go to bed. Or crawl in a hole. Sleep for a week, maybe.
But just as I think I might actually fall asleep, there’s a knock at the door. I sit upright, causing the spinning room to tilt.
Maybe it’s him.
Maybe he listened to the rest of the episode, and he’s finally going to talk to me. Maybe–
“Olivia?” Sadie’s voice rings through the foyer, and I close my eyes and lean my head back again.
Or maybe not.
“Olivia. I was wondering if we could ta– oh. Wow. Okay.”
I don’t have to look up to know that Sadie is walking over to me. “I’m just going to take this,” she says, plucking the stemless wineglass from my hand and setting it on the coffee table before sitting down on the couch next to me.
“I think we need to switch to water,” she says.
“I fucked up,” I mutter.
“You…did. Yes. But we don’t have to talk about that right now. Right now we need to focus on making sure you don’t feel like hell warmed over in the morning,” she says.
“Don’t you mean hell frozen over?” I ask.
“Frozen and then left out in the sun until it rots, yes,” she says.
“This is ironic, isn’t it?” I ask, rolling my head to look at her. “Not that long ago you were a hot mess, one and a half bottles deep in sorrow all because of a man named Luca. And now, I’m a hot mess, one and a half bottles deep because of that same Luca.”
“Karma’s a bitch, isn’t she?” Sadie asks, and I pout.
“I’m sorry, Sadie,” I say. “I fell in love with him. I promised you I wouldn’t, and then I did. And I am really, really, really sorry…”
“I know,” she sighs. “And I told you, didn’t I? He’s a dick.”
I do my best to sit up straight. Not easy in a room that’s swirling around like the caramel in my macchiato.
“He said he never came on to you,” I tell her.
It’s not exactly a soft opening to our make-up conversation, I’m aware.
But I’m too tired and buzzed and hurt to tiptoe around things right now.
Sadie bites her lip for a moment before clicking her tongue.
“Maybe not,” she says, and I study her. “What I mean is…I think I was a lot more interested in him than he was in me. And I might have read into things a little,” she says, grabbing the bottle and pouring the rest in my glass but for herself.
“But you’ve seen him. He’s intoxicating.
And I wanted to believe that the promotion wasn’t just about work but maybe something else.
So one day he asked me into his office, saying he wanted to talk to me about something.
And I said maybe we could talk about whatever it was over dinner. ”
“What was it?” I ask. “That he wanted to talk about?”
Sadie swallows a sip and looks at me. “I don’t know. Probably design related. For the new face of the app. I didn’t ask. I was too busy hitting on him at the restaurant. And eventually he ended it early and walked me to my car and I–”
“Kissed him,” I finish the sentence for her, and Sadie looks at me.
“Yeah,” she admits. “I kissed him. And he fired me, and I drowned myself in a bottle of wine before calling you.”
I wipe my hand down my face and think about that. Then I go to the kitchen for water and a snack.
“You know what bothers me the most about this?” I ask. “That we let a guy come between us.”
“Right?” she asks, walking over to me and tossing the empty bottle is the trash.
“We completely broke girl code,” I tell her. “And for what? A man that broke both our hearts.”
“Yours more than mine,” she says, and I look over at her. “Oh come on, Livv. We both know I was just infatuated. He was hot and rich, and off-limits. All the red flags.”
“You do have a thing for red flags,” I say, and she gives me a look before laughing and going on. “Seriously though. You’re in love with him. And now you’re in pain. I hate that.”
“I do too,” I admit. “So how did you find out things went south?”
“I knew they had to,” she says, biting her lip. “I kind of…got really upset after our fight and told him about the podcast.”
“I know,” I tell her.
“How do you know?” she asks.
“He told me,” I say. “And then he broke it off,”
“I know,” she says. “It’s all over social media. Speculations, anyway. But also, you look like hell. And I feel like it’s my fault.”
“It’s not your fault,” I insist. “I mean…it kind of is. But it isn’t. I should have told him about the podcast. Honestly, I should have never fallen in love with him at all. None of this would have happened if I had just stuck to the plan and…and… followed–”
“His lead?” she asks with a smirk.
“Yeah…”
“It’s not your fault that you fell in love with him,” she says. “Especially considering he obviously fell in love with you.”
I don’t know what to say. But my eyes are filling with tears.
“Olivia, if it’s real, you’ve got to fix it.”
“How?” I ask, my voice cracking with the question. “He won’t talk to me.”
Sadie bites her lip in thought. And I know that look. Sadie is nothing if not determined. And if I didn’t know any better, I’d say she’s coming up with something. A new plan. Hopefully, this one doesn’t backfire.