Page 131 of The Influencer

I glance up at her. “You moving out?” I ask sharply.

She makes a dismissive noise. “No. This is my apartment as much as it’s yours.”

“That’s not entirely true.”

“It will be if you leave.”

“Well…then enjoy. But I’m not paying the rent anymore.”

“Where do you think you’re going?” she asks.

“Somewhere else.”

“Moving in with your little whore?”

“Something like that,” I say with a grin to myself that I don’t mind if she sees.

“Oh, so this is funny? Your brother comes in here, assaults me, and you’re leaving me after everything we’ve been through, and it’s hilarious to you?”

“Yes, Liv. I’m overjoyed that this is how things turned out. What was your first clue?” I deadpan.

“I know who you’re fucking.”

“Oh?”

“It’s Tiana. She all but confirmed it.”

Tiana is one of the artists who leases space at my shop three days a week. The one I put in charge when I was in Seattle. She’s also a lesbian. “When did you talk to her?” I ask.

“Last week. I went down to try to talk some sense into you. She told me you were out of town.”

“And that led you to believe I’m having an affair with her?”

“It was the way she said it. She was so smug. Like she knew things about you I didn’t.”

Tiana knows a lot of things about me Olivia doesn’t. Thirteen things, to be exact.

“How long has it been going on for?”

“How long’s Tiana been fucking with my cock?” I ask, getting some sick enjoyment out of this.

“You are so crude.”

“Over a year,” I say.

Olivia pales.

“You wanna see?” I ask.

She turns her head in disgust when I pretend I’m about to unbutton my fly. Kinda tells me everything I need to know about exactly how much Olivia “loves” me. It also makes me want to throw up. Jade hadn’t been my self-destruction. Staying with Olivia had. Talk about learned helplessness. Jesus.

I wish I could pinpoint when it started. When I’d decided to stay no matter how bad it felt. When I’d compromised my own happiness for the security of a partnership. When loneliness became more frightening to me than misery.

If Jade hadn’t wanted his nose pierced, I’d still be here. I’d still be going through the motions of “being in a relationship” with someone who’s disgusted by me, and yet can’t seem to let me go either because of what? Pride? Cruelty?

“What was the point of us?” I ask.

She looks taken aback. “The point?”

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