Page 119 of Ink Me Three Times
A pause. Then: “You’ll decide. When you’re ready.”
I peek through my fingers. “Why are you being so reasonable?”
“Oh, I’m not,” Olivia says, voice light. “I’m just circling my kitchen right now, half a sleeve of Oreos in hand, debating whether to hop in the car and drive to Coyote Glen to slap you and hug you both at once for not calling me.”
I laugh for the first time in days, real and messy.
Pickle twitches, lets out a snort, a grumpy little piglet scented with regret and peanut butter. My emotional support sausage.
“I’m scared,” I say, voice barely above a whisper. “And there’s more. But this is more Freddie related.”
“Holy shit,” she breathes out, almost to herself. Then louder: “Okay. Okay. Go on.”
“Well, there was also weirdness at the con. A woman. Tall. Gorgeous. Like, unfair levels of hot. Killer heels, sleek hair. Just… watching us.”
“Watchingyou?” Olivia’s voice tightens.
“No. Watching them. Freddie and Penny mostly. And Freddie… he froze. Completely. I’ve never seen him look like that. Like he’d seen a ghost.”
“No way,” Olivia breathes. “You think it was…”
“Trina,” I say, the name tasting sour on my tongue. “Yeah. Penny’s mom. I think it was her.”
Olivia is silent for a second. I hear the faint crunch of a cookie between her teeth before she swallows hard. “Did he talk to her?”
“I don’t know,” I whisper. “I don’t think so. She was just… there. Staring. And then she disappeared. No one said anything after. It’s so weird.”
“Fuck,” Olivia says quietly. “That’s… that’s bad.”
“Yeah.” I squeeze my eyes shut. Pickle shifts on my stomach, snuffling his nose into the blanket. “I don’t know what to do. I mean, what if she comes back? What if she wants Penny? What if…”
“Stop,” Olivia cuts in gently but firmly. “You can’t spiral aboutwhat ifsright now. One thing at a time, Ivy.”
My chest tightens. “But how do I do that? How do I pick one thing when everything feels like it’s collapsing at once?”
“You breathe,” she says. “You drink water. You remind yourself you’re not alone. And then… you figure out what you want. What you need. Not what everyone else needs from you.”
“I don’t even know what I want,” I choke out. “I feel like I’m falling apart. Like every version of my future is just… wrong.”
“You’re not falling apart,” she says, her voice warm and fierce now. “You’re unravelling. That’s different. Falling apart is passive. Unravelling means you can knit yourself back together any damn way you want.”
I let out a shaky breath. “You’re so annoying when you’re wise.”
“I know,” she says. “It’s my worst quality. That and how I always eat the middle of the brownie tray before anyone else gets a chance.”
A small smile tugs at my mouth. My eyes sting. “Thank you.”
“Always,” she says. I hear the clink of her mug setting down. “If you need me, I’ll be there in a heart beat.”
I do need her. I always need her, but I can’t ask her to come again. Shejustdid. So I’ll try and deal with this alone for as long as I can.
By the time I hear Jesse return from work, I’m perched on the edge of the bed, half eaten granola bar in one hand, staring at my phone screen intensely.
I’ve got three messages open. One for each of them.
Freddie. Mitchell. Timothy.
All typed out. All the same words.
