The muscle in his jaw ticked. 'You don't mean that.'
'Oh, come on,' I replied sadly. 'You just told me you don't love me and you never will. I doubt you'll even miss me.'
There was so much pain in his voice when he whispered his plea. 'Olivia, don't.'
That obvious pain stopped me in my tracks. The hope being that beneath all the confusion and anger and uncertainty, Nate really cared … and he was just frightened. So I gave him one last shot to be brave.
'I love you, Nate. Do you love me?'
I knew it was over when tears glimmered in his eyes. 'I never meant to hurt you, babe.' His voice was thick with emotion.
My own tears spilled quicker. 'I guess that was good-bye.'
21
I found myself in a staring match with the bird outside my window again. I didn't know what it was, but it was tiny. Some kind of tit probably. He or she had brown feathers, a white neck, and this really cool jet-black Mohawk. We'd been staring at each other on and off for the last few days.
I'd decided it was a 'he' and named him Bob.
'Hey, Bob,' I whispered, my chin resting on the back of my couch. He was sitting on my window ledge, his neck moving in tight little jerks from me to the world outside. 'It still hurts today.'
He stilled, cocking his head at me.
'Yeah. Are you sick of me yet?'
His head cocked to the other side.
'I'll take that as a yes. Don't worry.' I heaved a sigh, feeling my lips tremble. 'I'm sick of me too.'
That awful night Nate had walked out of my apartment for the last time, I'd been somewhat hysterical. I couldn't stop crying, and no matter how hard I attempted to squeeze my arms around myself I couldn't numb the pain.
It was a singular kind of pain. A pain I already knew well.
Loss.
Somehow, somewhere, maybe even long before we started a physical relationship, Nate had crept inside me until he flowed in my blood and rested in my breath. He'd become integral to a life that I looked forward to living each day, and the knowledge that I would no longer hear him laugh, or feel his lips on mine, or feel complete when I looked in his eyes, was insufferable to my body. It reacted as if someone had ripped off a limb or removed a vital organ. I'd felt something similar upon losing Mom, but with Nate it was different in that he chose to leave me. That added a different hurt to the pain – a sting, like a paper cut across the heart.
'Does it sound melodramatic to you, Bob?' I whispered, dry-eyed from having cried an ocean's worth of tears in the last few days.
Bob looked away as if he was bored.
'Yeah, that's because you've never been in love. Don't do it. You might as well put yourself through a meat grinder.'
The crying jag that first night was so bad I had to call in sick to work the next day. I managed to pull myself together enough to go in on Thursday, but my colleagues knew right away that something was majorly up. I was quiet – not sullen, but just trying to keep the pain in lockdown. As soon as I got out of there I headed straight home, ignoring texts from Jo and a call from Joss. When Dad called, I answered. I didn't convince him I was okay, but I convinced him to let me have space. Friday was much the same. Saturday I stayed home all day, only taking time to answer Ellie's text about going to the bar that night. I was in no state of mind to go anyway, but the knowledge that Ben might be there put me in full panic mode. I told her I was sick and couldn't make it.
Jo called. I ignored her. Finally she sent me a text.
If you don't answer i'm
coming around. Cam spoke
to nate. Cam thinks you
guys had a fight. Are you
okay? Xoxo
I sucked in a teary breath and texted her back.
I'll explain later. I'm not
feeling well. I'm in bed.
Xoxo
Okay. Let me know if you
need anything. xoxo
I didn't do that.
Instead I wallowed on my couch for the rest of the night and well into Sunday morning.
When Dad called again to ask me if I was attending Sunday lunch with the Nicholses, I made my excuses. He started to get a little more concerned.
I wouldn't know how concerned until my attention was ripped from Bob the bird at the sound of a key turning in my lock.
My heart jumped in my throat. For one second the fleeting hope that it was Nate absolutely paralyzed me.
The sight of Jo's worried face was like a big-ass rusty nail popping my balloon.
'What – ' I cut off as Jo walked in, followed by Ellie and Joss.
Jo waved a key in her hand. 'Uncle Mick called and told me he was worried about you. He gave me his spare key.'
'Aren't you supposed to be at lunch?' I pulled my nightie over my knees while smoothing my other hand through my ratted hair. I was a mess. My apartment was a mess. There were empty food packets all over the kitchen counter, dirty plates on my coffee table, crumbs on my hardwood floors, and a musty smell that could only be the result of a human inhabiting one space for too long.