Page 94 of When Stars Collide
Sarah turned. “Still?”
“I’ll never stop.”
“Then why did you leave him?”
“Because I had to.” Olivia picked up another cocktail napkin—It’s five o’clock somewhere—and blew her nose again.“I’m not like other women. I can’t handle a career and a relationship. Look what’s happened to me.” She gave her nose another honk. “I let my voice get stolen.”
Sarah’s hair was matted from the wig cap, but she still looked beautiful and defiant, more like the powerful Amneris than like Aida. “If he loved you so much, he wouldn’t have fallen for me so fast. We had something special right from the beginning.”
“You’re crazy.” Olivia grabbed her Negroni from Sarah. The ice had long ago melted, but she didn’t care. “You don’t even know him.”
“He asked me out on what was supposed to be your wedding day.”
“Wedding day?” Olivia tried to focus because she was clearly missing something.
“You didn’t know that, did you? Less than a week after you broke up with him, he asked me out, and by the end of our first date, we knew we had something special. He loved me more than he ever loved you.”
Olivia scrambled to put the pieces together. “Are you talking about Adam?”
“Who else would I be talking about?”
“Thad! I love Thad!”
“That football player you’ve been seeing?”
“He’s not just any football player! He’s one of the greats. He’s—” The Negroni sloshed onto the floor. “He’s the greatest second-string quarterback of all time.”
“You’re drunk.”
“Of course I’m drunk! I can’t sing, and I’ve lost my way.” She couldn’t hold it in any longer. “Adam killed himself because of me!”
Instead of being shocked, Sarah scoffed at her. “Don’t flatter yourself.”
“What’s that supposed to mean? He sent me an email!” she exclaimed. “A suicide email. Technology, right? I mean, what happened to the old-fashioned suicide note? Now everything is electronic.”
Sarah cocked her head. “He emailed you, too?”
“‘Too’? What do you mean, ‘too’?”
“That bastard.” Sarah didn’t say it angrily. More like she wanted to cry. She sank into the couch. “Now there are three of us.” She picked up a cocktail napkin.
“Three?”
“You, me, and Sophia Ricci.”
“Sophia Ricci?” Olivia didn’t understand. Ricci was the lyric soprano who’d stolen the role of Carmen from a mezzo. Rachel had told her about that when they’d had lunch in LA, and Sophia had dated Adam before Olivia. But an email...?
Sarah blew her nose on a cocktail napkin with a gold embossed,Drink up, bitches.“Sophia and I met at the Royal Academy. We’ve been friends for years, but I hadn’t heard from her in a while. A few days ago she called. She’s been having panic attacks, and she thought I could help. I don’t think she intended to tell me about the suicide email, but it came out.”
“I don’t understand.”
Sarah hugged herself. “It seems he sent all three of us an email. Sophia’s and mine were identical. ‘You let me believe we were forever. You meant everything to me and I meant nothing to you.’”
Olivia’s mushy brain finally absorbed what it was hearing, and she finished what had been in the note. “‘Why should I keep on living?’ Yes, that’s what mine said, too.”
Sarah slumped into the couch. “You lost your voice, Sophia’s having panic attacks, my eczema’s out of control—my legs, back, chest. And I can’t stop eating. I’ve gained twenty pounds.”
“You look good.” A stupid comment, but that’s how Olivia was feeling now. Stunned and stupid.
