“But this wasn’t—” I started to talk and then realized I was the only person actually arguing.
Olivia was silent.
Staring straight ahead, not at me, not at the guy she hated maybe sometimes liked, but at thin air as if it had more importance than me.
“Yes, Mark?” Max asked.
I wanted to say that I couldn’t say goodbye.
But again, Olivia said nothing.
I hung my head, then turned to her, pulled her in for a kiss to the forehead, and whispered, “Tell me to stay.”
She was quiet and then, “You know I can’t do that.”
“I’m literally begging you to without using the words.” I grabbed her shoulders. “What we have is good, Olivia; you know it is. I’ll find another job, just ask me to—”
She pressed her mouth against mine in a kiss that felt so much like goodbye my stomach hurt. “We’ll always have the losers’ room.”
“And Little-G.” My voice cracked.
Why the hell did this feel like a breakup?
Why were my eyes sweating?
“Let’s not forget the bathroom.”
“Or the dryer,” I added, unable to even look at her.
“Jet leaves in a few,” Max said again. “Are you coming or not?”
No! Both my heart and my head were in agreement, but I didn’t realize until that moment that you can want something with every part of you, but if that something doesn’t want you back—it doesn’t matter what your body is telling you.
It’s a no.
And always will be.
I staggered back and realized with amazing clarity that I did hate her; I hated her for not loving me. I hated her for not choosing me. I hated her for making me feel like a fucking emotional psychopath.
I hated her still.
Maybe my hate never truly went away; maybe it just stayed hidden under a masterful plan of seduction on her part or a stupid TV show that made me vulnerable.
One thing I knew.
My hate would never leave.
Sometimes, it’s the only emotion we can hold onto without fear of it letting go of us.
So I held tight.
“I’m ready,” I heard myself say.
And then I was looking at her for what felt like the last time. Counting the tears as they streamed down her face.
Hating every last one for proving to me she felt something—anything other than what she was showing.
One day I’d be back in this office.
One day I’d prove to her that I was successful without her love—that I was successful with my hate fueling me.
Yes. I’d be back.
And I’d own the world.
“Mark,” Olivia called after me. “We’re young, try to un—”
“Understand?” I spat, looking over my shoulder. “Understand this. I. Hate. You.”
Funny how in college, it was her spewing hate at me.
Post-college, it was me walking away hating her.
Maybe in Hell, we’d find our love.
Crazier things have happened.
I was numb the entire walk to the SUV, to the fancy car that led me to my future, and during my flight to my dream job, I didn’t think about what I could buy with the money I’d make or about who I would date, where I would live.
I thought about her face.
And cursed her until I fell asleep.
Chapter Eighteen
Olivia
I watched him go.
I let him walk away.
I wanted to scream at him. We’re immature twenty-two-year-olds who were given an amazing opportunity.
We had sex on a dryer, for shit’s sake!
Love?
At our age?
It didn’t happen, and even if it did, was it worth risking everything to pursue? A steady job? Income? It was like he’d had no clue that I came from “the perfect household.” Two parents who adored each other so much that they literally forgot to pay bills. My dad even at one point decided to start his own business just so he could be home more with my mom. There was a constant saying of, all we need is love while they looked into each other’s eyes, only to forget that dinner wasn’t even ready. I loved my parents. I did. I just didn’t want to become like them, so blinded by someone else that I forgot about responsibilities or didn’t take my career seriously. To them, love was all that mattered. To me? Stability.
A job was sometimes all that kept a person from breaking.
And I couldn’t afford to break.
No matter how much my heart was already breaking.
He said he hated me.
And now I needed to bury my love for him. And hate him back, cling to it, let it fuel me for what was ahead.
“You ready?” Dustin held out his hand, showing me the way to the promised land, and I walked.
I didn’t like it.
I hated every second.
Which made me hate Mark even more.
Damn him!
Or maybe it was myself I hated, as I never looked back and walked into my future.
Chapter Nineteen
Olivia
Five Years Later
I was nervous as hell as I sat in that stupid conference room, wondering what the hell the fuss was all about. I’d finally gotten promoted to VP of Marketing, which had been my dream job, except it gave me absolutely no social life for five years.