Page 43 of The Roommate Experiment

Her words dissolve into incoherent blubbering as she ushers me inside. My heart sinks as I take in the open suitcase on the couch, half-filled with hastily folded clothes. The speech I’d rehearsed on the way over turns to ashes on my tongue.

“Oh, Liv, I’m so sorry.” I’m the world’s biggest hypocrite.

The part of me that hates standing up for myself is relieved our talk will have to be postponed, but the rest of me is simmering frustration—I wanted this to be over tonight.

But between the two of us, Olivia’s having a rougher night than I am. I’m uncomfortable, sure, but Olivia’s in a different league of upset.

“Who was Theo?”

“My best friend.”

Fuuuuuck.“I’m so sorry,” I repeat, at a loss for what else to say. “Was he sick?”

“Nooo,” she bawls. “A car ran him over.”

She spins in a tight circle, her hands shooting up to her temples. “One second, he was there, and then,” she puffs. “And then this!” Her voice cracks, turning into a strangled screech that makes me flinch.

Olivia stops mid-step, clutching her chest as if she can physically hold her heart together. “He didn’t deserve this—” She breaks off into a high-pitched wail, doubling over and gasping for air.

I take a hesitant step forward. “Liv, just sit down for a second and?—”

“No!” she shrieks, spinning to face me, her face twisted with anguish. “Don’t tell me to sit! Don’t tell me to breathe! I can’t—I can’t even talk about it, okay? I just can’t! I have to go; please stop asking questions.”

“Okay, whatever you need.”

She paces, arms flailing as she explains between hiccups. “I won’t be back for the Fourth of July. You probably wanted to do something together, but I just—I need to be with my family at this difficult time.”

I fight back a wince. Even before deciding to break things off, I had zero plans to spend the holiday with Olivia. Nina, Tristan, Hunter, Rowena, and I are headed to my parents’ place in Mystic, Connecticut, for a big family weekend—grilling burgers, setting off sparklers, and lounging on pool floats with cold drinks. Days soaking up the sun, the smell of barbecue in the air. Nights lit up with fireflies and fireworks. A mental image where, once again, Olivia doesn’t fit.

But of course, I can’t say any of that. Not now. I nod, guilt twisting tighter in my chest as she sobs and packs in frantic bursts. I try to make sense of it. If Theo was her best friend, why is her family so involved? She’s from a small town. Maybe it’s one of those tight-knit communities where neighbors are practically family. I want to ask, but she’s begged me not to. Also, I’m a little scared to probe. She seems riled up enough.

How do I help her? Do I hug her? Pat her shoulder? Both strike me as insensitive considering what I came here to do. But standing in her living room like a statue, tongue-tied and useless, seems equally heartless.

The seconds stretch out, filled only with the sounds of Olivia’s sniffles and the zipper of her suitcase. I’ve never felt more adrift between what I should do—support her unconditionally without throwing another wrench into her night, and what I want to do—break up with her.

Olivia whirls around, her amber eyes wide and pleading. “We could escape somewhere the weekend after the fourth? Since we can’t spend the holiday together?”

I stand slack-jawed and scrambling for something to say, but my skull is filled only with critters scraping their claws against the bone; all the words have left. I’m here to cut her loose. I don’t want to string her along now that I know we won’t work out as a couple. I can’t make plans with her. But how do I explain that without telling her I’m breaking up with her? Because I can’t pull the trigger when she’s reeling from a loss and looking at me like I’m her savior.

“Um, sure, maybe.” I nod mechanically.

I hate the side of me who’s relieved the confrontation is postponed. He’s not getting this win. I’ll talk to her, soon. After the funeral, once things settle. Do this right. But for now, I paint on a smile and pretend everything’s fine.

“Do you want to book something? The funeral is going to be agony, and I could use a break.” She gestures at the four walls surrounding us as if they were responsible for Theo’s death. “Away from here.”

I can’t break up with her tonight, but I should definitely avoid making promises. How? The critters resume their frenzied scrambling inside my skull. I need an excuse that sounds thoughtful, or at least halfway decent. A snippet of a conversation from Saturday night at Adrian and Rowena’s pops into my head, giving me a perfect out. “Actually, that weekend might be tough for me. It’s Rowena’s engagement party, out in the Hamptons.”

Olivia’s eyes light up, her grief flickering in the background. “Oh, Rowena, the friend you went to see Saturday night?” The lingering accusation ofand didn’t invite mestill strong behind her casual tone. “I’d love to go together.”

Crap.That backfired spectacularly. I fumble for any reason to tell her no. But I’m drawing a total blank. “Uh… mmm… It’s a small party for just close friends and family. I’d have to check if it’s okay to bring someone else.” I keep vague, giving her an indefinite answer carried on a wave of guilt and cowardice. Outside, I’m trying to keep neutral. Inside, I’m Kate Winslet at the beginning ofTitanic—screaming.

Olivia launches herself at me as if I’d given her a solid yes, her lips finding mine in a fierce kiss. I go through the motions, but the contact is hollow. No spark, no warmth, just a gnawing void where something bright should be blossoming.

She steps back, gives me a teary smile, and hoists her suitcase. We walk out together. On the curb, she hugs me tightly before sliding into a waiting cab. At least I did the right thing by not offering to take her to the airport—too romantic. Would’ve given the wrong signal.

As the taxi merges into traffic and disappears, I let out a gusty sigh. I royally screwed up. But at least I’m getting a reprieve— a week without having to pretend or force non-existent feelings.

The thought of heading home to Mystic, of long, sunny days spent with the people I love most, wraps around me like a warm hug. The salty tang of the sea air, Mom’s peach cobbler, shooting hoops in the backyard with Tristan… Hunter in a bikini. I censor the image before my brain can pull up memories from the last time she visited Nina at my parents’ place.

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