Chapter 35 Olivia
OLIVIA
The morning sun cuts through the blinds, too bright, too eager, like it has something to prove. I don’t want to get up. I don’t want to face the day, or the world, or the truth that I might’ve just ruined the best thing to happen to me in years.
Last night, I spent hours talking with Sin, and when she insisted I get some rest, I let her go. Though sleep never came for me.
My brain kept looping through every word, every look, every moment with Sam yesterday. From the warmth of his arms when he thought I was missing, to the cold distance in his eyes when he left.
I never got a chance to tell him he has it all wrong. I could’ve said it in text, but what if he didn’t reply? What then?
Besides, it wasn’t something I could say via text.
Shuddering, the sound of his car pulling away replays in my head like a door slamming shut.
The hush in the kitchen hits me first. Even the hum of the fridge sounds loud. I pour coffee, hoping it’ll somehow ground me, but my hands are shaking too much to drink it.
I should call him.
No, I should wait.
No—God, I don’t know what I should do.
The truth is, he’s right to be upset. I disappeared. I didn’t call. I let my anger at Erin and Pete take over everything. But his words—you’re still hung up on your ex—slice through me like glass.
I’m not. But how do I convince him of that when I can barely convince myself that I handled any of this right?
I want to fix this. But I know Sam. His silence isn’t his way of testing me. He’s trying to find his footing again.
All I can hope is he trusts in what he knows about me. He has to believe if there were still anything between Pete and me, I’d have said so.
And he needs space. Yesterday made that painfully clear.
I can’t say I blame him. I’m the fool.
I’m the one who’s been dipping my toe in, then backing away. I’m the one who couldn’t say I love you, even though I do. Oh God, I do.
Wrapping my hands around the mug, I let the warmth seep into my palms. My stomach twists as I picture him—his tired eyes, the shadows that never quite left after Bas died. He’s been holding so much, and I’ve added to it.
I don’t want to be another weight he has to carry.
A knock sounds at the door.
My heart leaps, but it’s not him—it’s Paige, already half-dressed for school and rummaging through the fridge like she hasn’t eaten in days. She’s getting a ride with a few friends, and my house is closer for pickup.
“Morning.” She grabs a yogurt.
“Morning.” I hand her a spoon.
She studies me for a second, brow furrowing. “You okay, Mom?”
No. Not even close.
But I manage a small smile. “Yeah, just tired.”
She shrugs, unconvinced, but doesn’t press. And for that, I’m grateful.
When she leaves, I sit at the table long after her carpool disappears down the street. I stare at the empty chair across from me, imagining Sam sitting there barefoot, coffee in hand, his lazy smile lighting up the room.
The ache in my chest tightens.
We’ve both lost too much this year. I can’t lose him too.
Not able to sit here with my thoughts, especially with a ton of things to do, I head up to my office to work.
A few hours pass until there’s a knock at the front door. I bound down the stairs, my pulse quickening. Maybe—God, maybe it’s Sam.
But when I open the door, my stomach plummets. Shit.
It’s the last person I want to see. Erin stands on my porch, immaculate as ever, dressed in a tailored suit that probably costs more than my mortgage. She looks every bit the confident lawyer she’s always been—polished, poised, and unbothered.
Meanwhile, I’m anything but.
I haven’t had time to process what happened—her, Pete, the mess I walked into.
Sam leaving. And still no word.
When I met Sam, I didn’t even want a relationship. And now here I am—tied up in knots over a man again. It’s not the same thing, not even close, but familiar. That ache of wanting to fix something before it slips away.
And now Erin.
My voice is sharp, brittle. “What do you want?”
“Liv, can I come in?”
“I don’t have anything to say to you.”
It’s the truth.
Pete’s been trying to talk to me too, but I’m not ready for that either. At least with him, it’s easier. I don’t care that he slept with her. What hurts is she did.
“Please,” she says, softer. “I’ll keep it short, but I really want to talk.”
Against my better judgment, I turn my back, and she follows me into the foyer. I stop there. She’s not welcome any farther.
“Talk.” My arms cross over my chest.
“I’m sorry.” There’s contrition in her voice, but also trademark edge—defensive, controlled. “To be clear, I won’t apologize for pursuing Pete. You were divorced. But I am sorry for not being open with you.”
A laugh bursts from me, short, incredulous. “You’re unbelievable.”
And she is. God, she is.
I shouldn’t be surprised. I’ve been excusing her behavior for years—her sharp tongue, her selfishness, her need to win every argument, every man. I just never thought she’d aim it at me.
She pauses, thrown off by my reaction. I’ve always been the calm one, the peacekeeper, the one who smoothed things over.
Not today.
“Pete and I are—”
“Stop right there.” I raise a hand. “Not now, not ever, will I talk to you about my ex-husband. I don’t care what you’re doing with him. If that’s all you came to say, you can leave.”
Before she can respond, the doorbell rings again.
Sin offers a warm smile until she sees Erin then she frowns. “Hey, Liv.”
My eyes narrow. “Was this planned? You two tag-teaming me?”
“No.” Sin looks genuinely horrified.
She knows everything—about Sam, about Erin and Pete. She’s also made it clear she thinks I need to stop hiding behind fear and fix things with Sam.
Of course, she’s right.
“Come in.” I step aside for her.
Erin gives Sin a weak smile and instantly shrinks under her frosty glare.
“Erin was just leaving.” I open the door once more.
“Liv, we haven’t talked.” Erin steps toward me.
“We’re done. I’ll call you when I’m ready. If that time ever comes.”
“Liv, please—”
“Erin,” Sin and I say together, our voices firm, final.
Something in Erin’s expression cracks. She nods stiffly. “Goodbye.”
The door closes behind her, and I let out a breath I didn’t realize I was holding. My shoulders sag. The knot in my chest loosens but it doesn’t disappear.
It still hurts. God, it hurts.
Erin’s been my friend for nearly thirty years. Cutting her out is the right thing to do, but the grief of it hits harder than I expected. The loss settles in, heavy and permanent.
I’ll never trust her again, and maybe that’s what stings the most. She’s clearly harbored resentment toward me for years, and I never saw it. Or maybe I just refused to.
“Sorry, Sin. I thought when you showed up right after her, it was planned.”
She snorts. “Never. I haven’t spoken to her since her first phone call yesterday. I told her exactly what I thought. She crossed a line. I don’t need friends like that.” Her voice softens. “Anyway, enough about her. Are you okay?”
I force a smile. “Yes, I’m fine.”
“Seriously? This is me, Liv. You don’t look fine. You’ve got dark circles. Have you even slept?”
I laugh, but it comes out more like a sob. “I’m a mess.” My chin trembles. “I’m such an idiot.”
Her arms are around me before I can say anything else, holding me tight.
“I love him, Sin. God, I love him.” The words tumble out, heavy and wet with tears.
“I know, honey.” Her voice is low, soothing, her embrace steady. “You need to talk to him. Tell him.”
“I know.” My voice cracks. “Why didn’t I say it when he did? I felt it—I knew I did.”
She rubs my back in slow circles, grounding me as I cry. “It’s okay. You’ll fix this. He loves you, Liv. He’s probably just hurt. Give him time—but not too much. If he doesn’t come to you, you go to him.”
I sent text messages to Sam after he left, hoping they would be enough, but with each minute that passes in silence, my hope thins to nothing.
Wiping my cheeks, I pull back. “And what’s too long?”
Her smile is small but sure. She tucks a loose strand of hair behind my ear and kisses my forehead. “You’ll know.”
Before I can reply, my phone rings on the counter. I frown at the unfamiliar number but answer anyway.
“Hello?” The voice on the other end is tight, urgent.
As the words sink in, my world stops. The room blurs, my pulse spikes, my body turns cold.
Paige.
Car accident.
Everything else fades away.