Chapter 31
31
DYLAN
The night air hangs heavy with humidity, pressing against my skin like a damp cloth. Fireworks explode overhead, bursts of color illuminating Olivia’s profile as she tilts her head to the sky. I’ve positioned us at the fringes of the crowd, preparing for the inevitable. As soon as the show ends, I’m ending our relationship.
Olivia sighs, her voice wistful. “Fireworks always remind me of Theo. He loved them so much. Isn’t that weird?”
“Why? Most people love fireworks, don’t they?” I hum noncommittally, determined not to get sidetracked again. No matter how many times she mentions Theo tonight, my heart is fortified, encased in steel. I won’t let her sadness soften me, not this time. We are over.
Another firework bursts overhead, bathing us in electric-blue light. Olivia keeps her gaze fixed upward. “Yes, most people love fireworks. But dogs usually hate them, you know? They get scared and have to be kept inside.” A faint, wistful smile curls her lips. “Not Theo, though. He used to run around the backyard barking at them, tail wagging a mile a minute. Pure joy.”
I blink, certain I’ve misheard. “You mean, Theo is… a dog ?” The question comes out sharper than intended, my voice cracking in surprise.
Olivia turns to me, eyebrows raised. Her expression shifts from curiosity to something bordering on condescension as if she was looking at a particularly bone-headed monkey. Another firework bursts, gold and purple sparks raining down.
“Of course Theo was a dog.” She talks as if explaining to a child. “The best dog ever.”
Irritation prickles under my skin at her tone, at her acting as if I’m the unreasonable one. Then shock gives way to disbelief. “Hold on. You’re telling me that all this time, you’ve been going on and on about your grief… for a dog?”
Olivia reels back as if I’ve slapped her. “Theo was like a brother to me, Dylan. We grew up together. He was my best friend.” Her voice trembles, but holds an undercurrent of steel.
“But… but,” I stammer, increasingly appalled, “you told me you had to go home for a funeral ?”
“Yes. It was a beautiful memorial in our backyard. All the family gathered to celebrate his life.” Olivia’s tone is defensive, daring me to challenge her.
I can’t help myself. “You held a memorial? For a dog?”
“Yes, I told you from the start.”
“You told me your best friend had died, never mentioned it was a dog . I thought an actual person had died.”
Olivia gasps, eyes narrowing. “Oh my gosh. You’re one of those, aren’t you?”
“One of what?”
“A simpleton who’d sneer at cherishing the memory of a soul that touched your life only because they walked on four legs instead of two.”
I open my mouth to retort, but nothing comes out. I’m caught between anger, confusion, and the absurd urge to laugh.
“Olivia, you’ve been acting like you lost a close relative. An uncle, a grandparent, a beloved neighbor.” I try to keep my voice level, but frustration seeps through. “I thought a member of your family had died.”
“Theo was part of the family,” Olivia yells, startling a nearby seagull into flight.
“Okay, okay. But what are you going to do when you lose an actual human relative?”
Olivia paces, feet kicking up sand. “I can’t fucking believe this.” She stops, fixing me with a stare that could freeze lava. “This isn’t working for me, Dylan.”
“What’s not working?”
“This. Us.” She gestures between our chests. “I could overlook you being distracted half the times we are together. Or that I always have to text you first. You have a demanding job and a life outside of me, I get it.” She’s flapping her hands like a mad person. “But I refuse to waste my time on a dog hater.”
“I’m not a dog hater.” I throw my arms up, exasperated. “I love dogs. But I have a realistic view of how much mourning is appropriate for a pet.”
Olivia scoffs, folding her arms across her chest. “Oh, really? And what’s the Dylan Thompson approved level of mourning, huh?”
I sigh, running a hand through my hair. “Look, when Frisky, my family’s cat, died, I was sad. I cried. But we didn’t build a shrine, or sing hymns about his favorite catnip, or spend weeks crying every time we saw a ball of yarn, convinced we heard his meow in the wind.”
Olivia’s eyes widen, her mouth falling open. “Are you mocking my grief?”
“No, I’m trying to put things in perspective.”
“Perspective?” She laughs a harsh, humorless sound. “Here’s some perspective for you, Dylan. Theo was there for me through everything. When my parents divorced, when I got cut from the soccer team, when my first boyfriend dumped me. He never judged, and never gave unsolicited advice. He loved me, unconditionally. But of course, you wouldn’t understand, being a cat person.”
“What’s that supposed to mean? Dogs aren’t better than cats. And just because I grew up with a cat, it doesn’t mean I hate dogs.”
“No, you’re right, dogs are so much better than cats,” Olivia snickers. “And you have the same shitty personality as a cat.”
“What?” I blink, taken aback. “How?”
Olivia ticks off points on her fingers. “Let’s see. You’re aloof, ungrateful, and self-serving. You only want affection on your terms. And you assume you’re above everyone else.”
I stare at her, my jaw clenched. “Frisky was none of those things. He was a great cat, and we all loved him. But we didn’t host a funeral with grief-aiding party favors for him.”
Olivia’s eyes fill with tears as her bottom lip trembles. “If you’re making fun of my grief socks, then you’re a truly horrible person, Dylan Thompson. I want nothing to do with you ever again.”
She spins on her heel, storming away toward the resort exit. I’m tempted to let her go, to call it a night and be done with this entire ridiculous relationship. But it’s late, and despite everything, I don’t want anything to happen to her.
Grumbling under my breath, I jog after her. She’s already on the phone, her voice thick with tears as she pleads with her friends to come pick her up. “You’re never going to believe what happened,” she sobs. “It’s always the harmless ones that turn out to be the biggest jerks.”
I roll my eyes but keep following her until we reach the parking lot. Olivia whirls around, glaring at me through her tears. “Leave me alone, Dylan.”
“Trust me, I will. As soon as you’re safe with your friends.” I stuff my hands in my pockets, rocking back on my heels.
After that, we wait in the most awkward of silences. Olivia’s shoulders are vibrating with indignation. Finally, the same top-off Jeep from earlier pulls into the lot. Olivia shoots me one last withering look. “Never contact me again.”
I bite back a sarcastic as if and mumble low, “Not unless I need advice on how to mourn a hamster.”
Olivia mounts the car, the angry glares of three other women in the seats boring into me. And then they’re gone, tires screeching as they peel out of the parking lot.
Shaking my head, I make my way to my car. Sliding into the driver’s seat, I close the door and lean my head back against the headrest. I sit staring at the interior roof. And then, I start to laugh.
It bubbles up from my chest, spilling out of me in great, heaving guffaws. I laugh until my sides ache and tears stream down my face. Because what else can I do? This whole night, this entire relationship has been one ludicrous misunderstanding after another.
As my laughter subsides, I wipe my eyes and start the car. One thing’s for sure, I’ll think twice before dating a dog person again.