Page 135 of Light My Fire Three Times
Her voice changes immediately, a subtle shift that makes my stomach drop. “Ivy? What about her?”
“Ivy knows,” I say, hating the words the second they leave my mouth. “She found out about us… about me and you.Onlyyou and me, she doesn’t know anything else, but…”
“Oh no.”
“I know.”
“Okay,” she sighs heavily. “So, I need to prepare for what comes next. For Ivy coming to me.”
“Is there anything I can do?”
“No. I’m fine.” I can hear a strength returning to her. “I can do this. It’ll be fine. I’ll just… I’ll let you know when it’s done.”
CHAPTER FORTY-FIVE
Olivia
DECEMBER 24TH
I haven’t slept a wink.
Okay, that’s an exaggeration, but I’ve barely closed my eyes all night. It feels like the world has been turning under my feet, and I can’t seem to catch my balance.
I’ve been staring at the ceiling for hours, my mind racing with everything that’s to come. I know she isn’t going to be happy, and I don’t know what to do about it.
I should have called her last night, but I didn’t.
I couldn’t.
How do you apologize for this? How do you explain to someone that I’ve been involved in something messy, complicated, and, most of all, secretive?
I’m not one to shy away from tough conversations, but this? This feels impossible.
I stare at the clock on the wall. It’s barely morning, and I’m already running on fumes.
I should be getting ready to head out to the truck, should be making sure everything’s prepped for the holiday crowd, but the only thing I can think about right now is Ivy.
Knock, knock, knock.
I jump.
The sound is sharp and loud, interrupting the silence in a splash of cold water. I freeze in place, my heart skipping a beat.
It’s not a light tap or a friendly knock. It’s the kind that demands attention. My stomach twists with an anxious knot, and before I can think better of it, I’m already walking toward the door.
My pulse is racing, and I try to steady my breath, hoping my heart won’t beat out of my chest before I even open it.
When I pull the door open, I don’t expect to see her. But there she is.
Ivy.
Her eyes are bloodshot, like she’s been up as long as I have, and she’s standing there with her arms crossed, her posture stiff. There’s no smile on her lips, no softness in her expression.
She looks like she’s been carrying the weight of the world on her shoulders.
“I need to talk to you.”
I open my mouth, but the words get stuck. What do I say?
