Chapter 17
CHAPTER SEVENTEEN
OLIVIA
I pull into the driveway and let out a long breath when I see the lights on. Beatriz’s car is parked out front, and no David. Thank God. I couldn’t face him right now.
Inside, I’m hit with the sound of laughter from the playroom.
Beatriz meets me at the door with a warm smile.
“Welcome back. The kids have been asking about you all morning.” I smile and set my bag down.
“I missed them, too.” We chat for a few minutes.
She gives me the rundown—who cried, who didn’t nap, what exploded in the kitchen.
Beatriz keeps this place running, and I probably don’t say thank you enough.
I thank her, then head upstairs to shower while texting David.
‘Hey, I’m in the city for a few hours, have to stop by the office to work on a crisis, want to grab lunch?
’ That’s a half lie, because it’s true, that’s happening, just not to me.
I hate lying; I don’t even know when I became so good at it.
The moment the water hits my skin, the guilt shows up. I hate this feeling, but it’s all my fault. I press my palms to the wall and stand there. Because the truth is, I don’t know how to fix this. I love two men.
That’s the part no one warns you about when you’re growing up. How sometimes love doesn’t show up in neat little timelines.
One man built a life with me. The other?
He’s been in my bones since I was fifteen.
It’s a different love. But it’s still love.
And what just happened wasn’t just nostalgia or grief, let alone closure.
It cracked something wide open. And now I can’t pretend I don’t feel it.
I shut the water off and get out quickly.
If I stay in this shower, thinking about all of this, I might kill myself.
I get dressed, do my makeup, and head out. There’s already a message from David saying yes to lunch, with a pin to a restaurant. Oh fuck, I’m on Ethan’s truck. Great, now I need to park far enough away so he doesn’t see me. I hate this—the lying, the secrecy, ugh.
David’s already at the restaurant when I arrive, suited up, smiling like always.
He stands when I walk in and pulls me into a hug.
It’s strong. Familiar. Safe. Then he kisses me.
It’s good. But it doesn’t land the same way anymore.
And I hate myself for even thinking that.
We talk about everything: work, the kids, my mom, and what's going on at home. It’s easy, it feels normal, and it’s comfortable.
When he says ‘I love you’ as we’re leaving, I say it back without hesitation. Because I do love him, but it feels... different.
After lunch, I’ve got a couple of hours before I need to pick up Ethan, so I’ll go pick up some coffees to go and swing by the office. It’s the first time I’ve been here in about two weeks, and walking in feels like getting a piece of myself back. This is great. This is just what I needed.
Monica, my assistant, lights up as soon as she sees me. “Well, well, look who finally remembered we exist,” I smirk. “I brought coffee.” She smiles, “Is that a bribe?”
“You know it is.” We laugh it out, and she follows me to my office.
“How’s country life treating you?” I drop my bag and sigh.
“More complicated than I planned for.” She narrows her eyes.
“That sounds juicy. Do we need to add vodka to our coffees?” I missed this, having her close.
She is more than my assistant, and while I try to keep some boundaries, she’s been a great friend over the years.
“Oh, hell no, let’s stick to just coffee,” She launches into a full-blown saga about her week—dumping a guy, going on a date with a girl, and lining up a third person for tomorrow. I stare at her. “You go through people faster than I go through dry shampoo.”
“And yet, you love me.” She grins. “Unfortunately.” It’s light. Easy. And for the first time in days, I don’t feel like I’m suffocating.
I catch up on emails since I’ve been avoiding my phone over the last few days.
I look over some reports I need to send at the end of the week and pretend to care about a pitch meeting I’ve already mentally canceled.
I love my job; having my own company has been the highlight of my life, really.
I never dreamt of being a mother or a wife; that just happened.
But this —having something mine, something I built from the ground up —this has been my dream.
I finish up in the office and leave everything in order so everyone can survive at least one more week. I go downstairs to the coffee shop, and I grab two more coffees before I head out.
When I pull up to the site, Ethan’s finishing up, tossing instructions to his crew like he’s been doing this forever.
He looks so confident, so in control. I love seeing this side of him.
And I love this side of me with him. He spots me, smiles, and jogs over.
That smile still wrecks me. I catch myself watching him longer than I should, thinking I could get used to this.
The thought hits hard. Too hard. I laugh under my breath and shake it off. He slides into the passenger seat, “What’s so funny?” he asks, tossing his bag in the back.
“Nothing.” I hand him his coffee. He raises an eyebrow but lets it go.
“Ready to go back?” Absolutely no. I know he didn’t mean to go back, but to leave whatever we had behind.
But as I became really good at lying, I said, “Yeah,” and put the car in drive.
“Let’s go.” As we pull onto the highway, I glance over at him.
And I already know that getting out of this clean isn’t going to happen.