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I didn’t get that question. Was he saying I should be doing more? I narrowed my eyes and put the phone down.

It wasn’tallI was doing. Instead, I was faking a long-term relationship with Dimitri. Well, technically I hadn’t faked a damn thing the other night. I sighed and checked my email to see when the mattress and desk would be here.

They’d been delayed. But only a couple more days.

That was for the best. Sleeping next to him proved to be detrimental to the platonic part of our friendship. His outrageous behavior was blurred by our close proximity, and I was finding myself considering it, which probably made me even more outrageous.

That night, I went to bed early without telling him I was. I didn’t have a thing to say to him. Our relationship was murky already.

Still, though, I felt him tuck me in like he always did and murmur, “Good night, Olive.” And then he pulled me close and snuggled me. I didn’t roll away. I slept soundly because of it instead.

Chapter Twenty-Two

OLIVE

The next couple days,Dimitri tiptoed around me. He was tentative and overly helpful to the point of me feeling like I couldn’t even be mad at him for what he’d done.

One morning, when I woke, he was gone.

Not just in the other room but had left the whole house gone. No sign of his expensive loafers or car anywhere.

When I checked my phone, I saw a text from him.

Dimitri: Went to the office for the day. Text me when you’re up and let me know how you’re feeling. Stop by if you want.

Me: I’m fine. I’ll stay here and work.

Dimitri: You could work on your thesis or that article here. When is the article due?

Me: No. I also need to make some calls to my doctor.

Dimitri: Give it a few more days for me, huh? See how you feel?

I wanted to tell him he had no right to ask that of me, but I knew we still had to live together, and he’d meant well. After researching the side effects of every pill on the market, I knew I was probably going to wait to go back on it anyway.

Me: I’ll do what I choose to. Are we walking together today or not?

Dimitri: Sure. I’ll be home on time.

It was for the best, anyway, considering I needed to work too. I pulled the Diamond Syndicate book out again, this time along with a box of keepsakes I’d initially packed when I came to live with Dimitri.

The box only had a few things my mother had given me: A gold necklace that held a calligraphy pen she always wore around her neck, a few pictures, and her journals. She’d told me to keep them with me always and to wear the necklace if I wanted.

I never did.

I told myself it was because calligraphy was her hobby, not mine. I told myself it wouldn’t look good on me. I had a lot of excuses. Really, it just felt like it was still hers all these years. Now, I rolled it between my fingers, letting myself miss the way she held the pen, wrote with it, sat up at night at her desk with it.

It hurt to feel the memories but felt cathartic too. I placed the pen back in the box but chewed on my cheek. Trying to be closer to her even though she was gone suddenly didn’t seem as scary. Suddenly, it seemed right.

I pulled up calligraphy pens on my phone and scanned through them, ordering a few things. I’d try the hobby and maybe just see if I liked it too.

Then, I stared at a framed picture of my mother and me while I dialed Esme’s number.

“Please tell me you’re not calling about—”

“I am. And you didn’t tell me almost everyone knew about this but me,” I ground out.

I’d mapped out how Jameson’s family was involved and also Lucille’s husband Earl.