Page 57 of Squatch Out!
OLIVIA
It’s been over a month since I left Washington, and I haven’t heard so much as a peep from Sean.
My text messages go unanswered, but the asshole reads every one of them. After every message, I watch those three little dots flicker and flicker and flicker before disappearing with no reply to show for them. When I call, I go straight to voicemail, so I leave long messages detailing what I’ve been up to. Telling him how much I miss him. Asking him why he is being such a dick.
There have been a few drunk messages too, where I sobbed and blathered over how pissed I am at him for ghosting me.
I wish I had gotten Owen’s information. I’m certain he would be more than happy to let me know where I stand, or maybe he could have knocked some sense into his brother.
In the end, I try to accept that Sean just isn’t interested, and he’s being too much of a pussy to come out and tell me. Even though that doesn’t feel right. I’ve replayed every second of our time in the mountains and… I just can’t believe he was playing me the whole time.
I keep thinking back to the last day I spent with him, and I can see that he was already shutting down. A month later, I see the desperation in the way he held me and in each of his kisses. The way he fucked me—like it was going to be the last time.
But why won’t he talk to me? Why can’t he just come out and tell me how he feels?
Because he’s a man, Liv. And men don’t think it’s manly to have feelings.
Except Sean never acted that way.
Okay, well, you didn’t exactly tell him you planned to come back, either.
Of course I did. I told him plenty of times…Didn’t I?
Except not once did I come right out and say the words,I’m coming back to you.Because I didn’t know how long it might take me to get my life packed up. I didn’t want to agree to a timeline that might not work out. But I had every intention of telling him as soon as I knew something.
Oh, damn. We’re both assholes, aren’t we?
It’s late, and I’m eating a bowl of instant ramen and feeling sorry for myself—which is my new personality lately—when I get an email alert for a job match. That’s become my other hobby since returning to Virginia. Searching for positions in Washington that would allow me to be closer to Sean. Most of the jobs are in the city, though, when all I want is to be in the mountains.
I’m holding my bowl in one hand as I click on the link with my other. A trail of noodles stretches from the bowl to my mouth as I scroll through the listing. It starts out like all the others, but when I get halfway down, I sit up straighter. It’s a well-known company, and they are recruiting for virtual positions. Likefully remotevirtual positions. I could be on the moon, and as long as I have reliable internet, I could do the job.
I fall back into my chair. “Reliable internet could be a problem,” I mutter to myself.
Then I sit up again and start googling satellite internet and their limitations. By the time I finish, my ramen has gone cold, but I’ve applied for the job and set up an appointment for a quote for internet.
A week later,I get an offer for the virtual position.
The next day, I put in my notice, and I do something I’ve been telling myself I won’t do. I pick up my phone and open up a text window.
ME: I’ve tried, but I don’t think this long-distance thing is going to work for me.
SEAN: …
Just like always, he reads the message right away, and then the three dots appear. Over and over and over… until they stop. No reply.
CHAPTER TWENTY-FIVE
SEAN
It’s been three weeks and four days since my last text from Olivia.
It simply said:I don’t think this long-distance thing is going to work for me.The last voice message she left me was a week before that. She sounded so sad, but she didn’t beg me to call her back.
Shouldn’t I be happy about that? I’ve been ignoring her since I let her go at the airport. So, I have no reason to be angry when I finally pushed her away. Except that I’m as far from happy as a person can get. I feel sick, actually.
I’ve tried to justify the way I ghosted her by calling it a clean break between us. So why does this still hurt like hell?
I tell myself there is no way it would have worked out. We are too far apart, and it’s selfish of me to ask her to uproot her whole life. Which is a helluva assumption to put on someone I won’t let argue her case.
