Page 31 of The Final Straw

“I’m not sleeping with you, Barbi. The only thing I want from you is to admit what you did. That you drugged me and forced me to have sex with you.” I glare at her, jaw clenched.

Barbi just looks back at me, an evil glint in her eyes, before she smirks. “Now why would I do that, Vanny baby? You wanted me. You were practically begging to fuck me, complaining about how you should have chosen me that night instead of Olivia.” She holds out her hand as she looks at her nails. “Do you think I should go classic with a French manicure or get a design?”

She rambles on and every time I bring up that night, she quickly changes the subject of conversation. I know I won’t get what I need most from her today. Fuck, I need Bre to help me figure out what to do now. This is going to be harder than I thought. We’re going to need a Plan B.

Chapter 16

Olivia

The drive to my house is filled with awkward silence. I stare past Grady out the back passenger window, the last twenty minutes running through my head on repeat.

Did I miss some connection between Barbi and Van? Was it there the whole time, and I was blind to it? I guess it’s possible since I was oblivious to Barbi’s true nature for our entire friendship. What can I say, other than I’m loyal and thought she’d grow up, eventually?

“Is there anything we can do, Ollie?” Kipp asks from my left.

“No,” I whisper. “I just need to go home and process everything that’s happened.”

We pull up in front of my building and hurry from the car. Briefly, I stare up at the large brick structure, wondering how this ended up being my life. How did I go from being in love, ready to marry and talking kids, to seeing two older men and devastated at the sight of Van? Taking a deep breath, I turn around and face the guys. My heart is already broken and what I’m about to say is only going to add another crack to the already damaged organ.

“Our time together has been amazing, and I have no regrets. I wanna make that clear, first and foremost. But seeing Van today showed me I’m not ready to be with anyone.” A tear slides down my cheek, and judging by Kipp and Grady’s wide eyes, I know I’ve caught them off guard.

“What are you saying?” Grady asks. “We don’t want a vague statement. Tell us what you want.”

“I need time to figure this out. Space to work through what I thought was behind me.” I wipe my tears as they break free and run freely down my face. “I’m sorry!” I spin on my heel and hurry to the door, pushing it open and rush inside.

As I close the door, a weight settles heavily on my shoulders, dragging me down. I kick off my shoes, the sound of them hitting the floor echoes through the space of my safe haven, and I make my way to the bathroom.

My feet move on autopilot, desperate to reach the warmth of a hot shower. The familiar tile of the shower floor greets me, cool against my skin, as I turn on the water and undress.

Stepping inside, the water cascades over me in a torrent. As the steam rises, I let the emotion pour out of me. Hot tears mingle with the water streaming down my cheeks. The roar of the shower swallows each sob as I surrender to the overwhelming wave of emotion.

I lean my forehead against the tiled wall as I try to catch my breath, the water pounding against my back. The weight on my chest feels unbearable; I didn’t think seeing him again would be this hard. With that thought, another choked sob escapes, my breath hitching in my throat as my heart breaks all over again.

The ache intensifies with each passing moment, a relentless reminder of everything I've been trying to suppress. Memories flash before my eyes, taunting me with the reminder of how happy I was. While I didn’t think I was over it or ready to move on, I thought I was making progress. I close my eyes, willing myself to block out the pain, but it seeps into every crevice of my being, a constant ache that refuses to be ignored.

So for now, at this moment, I let myself feel, allowing the tears to fall freely as I come to terms with the fact that as amazing as Kipp and Grady are, they’re a mere band-aid over a bullet wound. I cling to the solitude of the shower, letting it shield me from the outside world for a just a little while longer. The water washes away the tears, but the pain remains, a lingering reminder of hurt caused by the people I love.

With a deep breath, I turn off the shower and step out onto the bath mat. The air is cool against my damp skin, a contrast to the warmth that enveloped me moments ago. Wrapping myself in a plush towel, I relish in the softness before making my way to my bedroom.

I pad over to my closet and pull out a pair of soft, oversized sweatpants and a well-loved hoodie, opting for comfort over style. Once I’m dressed, I make my way to the kitchen, the promise of food beckoning me like a siren's call. Surveying the contents of my pantry,

I gather an assortment of candy, cookies, brownies, and other treats, arranging them on a wooden cutting board. The act of creating a makeshift charcuterie board feels strangely soothing.

I carry the board to the living room, sinking into the plush cushions of the couch with a sigh. Looking around, I find the remote and flick through channels until I find a mindless reality show. The drama of the contestants all vying for the same man has me forgetting about my problems momentarily.

Not for long, though. As I munch on candy and sweets, my thoughts drift back to earlier. Seeing Van again stirred up emotions I thought I had buried deep within me, forcing me to confront the truth I've been avoiding. It's not fair to Grady and Kipp, or myself, to continue down this path when I’m not over Van.

With a sigh, I pull the throw blanket from the back of the couch and wrap it around me, letting its comforting embrace soothe me as I lose myself in the mindless chatter of the TV. Today may have been filled with uncertainty and upheaval, but in this moment, surrounded by snacks and familiar comforts, I find myself at peace with my decision.

The chime of my phone wakes me. With a groan, I fumble for the device, squinting at the screen through blurry eyes. A message from Bre illuminates the display.

Bre: We're going out tonight and I won't take no for an answer.

Me: I don’t know. Yesterday was a shit show. I passed out on the couch and your text woke me up

Bre: More of a reason to go to Checkers with me. I’ll meet you there at 8

Knowing Bre is true to her word and persistent, I push myself off the couch, my limbs protesting from the sudden movement. I take in the remnants of last night's sugar and trash TV overload exploded all over it and the coffee table. But that’s a problem for future Olivia. Right now, I need to get cleaned up and ready to go to Checkers. Bre said eight and it’s already four. I slept most of the day after passing out sometime in the wee hours of the morning.

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