I’d barely been able to look at her without wanting to throw myself off the Golden Gate Bridge.
The guilt was eating me alive. Olivia was everywhere, it seemed — at home, at work, in my head, in my sheets. She hadn’t even been sleeping in her room anymore, and there were only so many times I could put off going to bed in the hopes that she’d be asleep when I finally joined her. As much as I wanted to spend every waking second with her and Noah, every time her eyes met mine, I couldn’t stop thinking about the papers.
I felt like a monster.
And even as I sat alone in my office at home, my eyes glued to a blank screen and my mind whirring, I couldn’t escape her. I could never escape her.
“Dame.”
She stood in the doorway, her wavy hair tucked up into a messy bun. The shirt of mine that she wore was my old university shirt, the logo taking up the majority of the front, and it fell down just past her upper thighs, practically swallowing her. I had to battle myself not to get up from my desk and pull her into my arms.
“Are you still working?” she asked.
“Yeah,” I lied, the weight of it practically cracking my chest. “I’m sorry.”
She rolled her lips between her teeth. “You’ve been working too much lately.”
“I know,” I sighed. “Between the lawsuits and getting your project off the ground, it’s been a lot. It should calm down here soon.”
She nodded, but I wasn’t sure if it was more to herself or me. A beat of silence passed between us as if she was expecting me to fill it, but I didn’t know what else to say, didn’t know what else I could offer that wasn’t just lie after lie after Goddamn lie. “I put Noah to bed. I hope that’s okay.”
My brows furrowed. “Why didn’t you come get me? I could have done that.”
“You’re… busy.”
I scrubbed at my face. She had a point, even if she was wrong. I’d finished work hours ago. “Yeah, you’re right.”
“I’ll probably be up for another couple of hours,” she said, one hand encompassing the other’s wrist. She rubbed at it nervously. “If you’ve got a minute, I really need to speak with you.”
She wants to ask about the papers. Avoid it. “Yeah, of course. I’ll be down in a little bit,” I said.
As if they were on fire, I could physically feel their presence in the drawer beside my right thigh, along with the box I kept hidden at the very back. It burned me, made me want to shrink down and bury myself inside the drawer so I could go up in flames alongside it. I’d been feeding her excuse after excuse, hiding from her, pulling myself away from her so I wouldn’t have to face her asking about it. But it would come. And I’d burn.
“I am sorry,” I repeated, hoping another apology would make both of us feel better.
She nodded again. “Have you heard from Ethan?”
Sweat broke out across every inch of my skin. “No,” I lied.
“Not at all?”
“Not about the annulment,” I clarified, my mouth feeling like I’d swallowed a mouthful of fucking sand. “He’ll tell me the moment he gets them back. And I’ll tell you.”
She hesitated in the doorway, her gaze locked on mine. “Okay,” she sighed.
And then she was gone.
