Page 125 of Misfortune and Mr. Right

I’m left alone with a fortune taunting me from the coffee table and a head full of thoughts about what matters most in my life.

Chapter Thirty

Logan

And no relationship is perfect, ever.

There are always some ways you have to bend,

to compromise, to give something up

in order to gain something greater.

~ Sarah Dessen

I don’t sleep.How can I?

Rhett licks my hand, my cheek, my chin. He whimpers. Then he abandons me and lays by the front apartment door like he knows Olivia is nearby, needing her own comfort, and he wants to be the one to give it.

“Trust me, buddy. I get it. I wouldn’t lick her, but I’d love to be the one to soothe her pain.”

Only, I am the source of her pain.

Why didn’t I see this coming? And how do I get us back from here?

Those thoughts ping through my head all night.

I texted Gil when I got home from my attempt at an initial apology and conversation with Olivia.

He answered:At an elementary school play for Sam right now. Come to dinner tomorrow night. My wife will have some sort of solution, I’m sure.

Then he sent another text:Sorry you’re going through this. Look at it this way. It had to come up sooner or later. Better sooner so you can move past it.

I’ll admit it—his thoughts that we might move past this gave me just enough hope to keep me from doing something rash overnight, like camping in front of her doorway or texting her repeatedly … or hiring a moving company to switch our apartments overnight.

This isn’t about persistence. It’s about patience. I can be pushy, or I can be respectful.

Still, coffee never hurts.

So, I take my run earlier than usual. I’m up anyway. And then I stop by Serendipi-Tea to get a specialty drink.

“Morning, Logan,” Nori says.

“Morning.”

“Everything okay?”

“I’m hoping it’s nothing a month of specialty coffees won’t solve.”

“Uh-oh. That sounds pretty serious.”

I nod.

“Let me guess,” she says. “One wildflower coffee lemonade for starters.”

“Yep. And whatever else might help.”

“Advice?”

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