Chapter 3

Another exhausting day. I dragged myself home, completely wiped.

The apartment was dark. Ryan wasn't home.

It suddenly hit me—I hadn't checked my other phones all day. I quickly pulled them out of my bag.

I checked them. Not a single message.

I lined the phones up on the coffee table, gathered some new photos from friends and my 'besties,' and got ready to update their social media feeds.

Most of these photos had me masked up, rocking sunglasses, or just showing my back. After triple-checking each account matched the right photo, I fired them off.

Just as I finished the last one, Ryan stumbled in, reeking of alcohol.

My heart jumped, and a phone clattered to the floor.

Drunk, Ryan shuffled over, rubbing his eyes hard, "Huh? Am I seeing double? Why so many phones?"

He reached for them. I grabbed his hand, asking with concern, "Why did you drink so much?"

Meanwhile, my foot was busy kicking the phones under the couch.

Ryan leaned his head on my shoulder, his breath disgusting, "Wahhh... Olivia, I'm so useless. All I've ever done my whole life is spend money. My parents called and chewed me out today. They're gonna freeze all my cards!"

The card freeze came! My house wouldn't be far behind!

I was so excited I shot straight up, sending Ryan tumbling from my arms onto the floor.

He rubbed his butt, whining, "What was that for?"

I helped him up, patting his head soothingly. "It's okay, we have the shop now, remember? Once it opens, I'll take care of you."

Ryan slumped onto the couch and pulled out a few cards, "Don't need you to take care of me yet. I still have some money left."

Heh, not for long.

Ryan's chest heaved a few times. I thought he was going to puke. I jumped back a good three feet to avoid any splash damage.

Once he was done, I swooped in and handed him a glass of water, right when he needed it.

He drank it and sighed mournfully, "Ah, I guess I'll have to be more frugal from now on."

I hummed in agreement, finally managing to coax him into the bedroom to sleep.

Then I came out to clean up his mess. The phones under the couch were buzzing nonstop. No prize for guessing it was Ryan.

Opening them, I found transfers.

$1,700 each! I didn't hesitate, accepting every single one.

Then I saw the message Ryan had sent to all the personas: [Baby, I can't give you what you want anymore. Take this money as compensation. Let's not stay in touch.]

Ryan was giving out money after breaking up. He looked like a saint to me.

I was about to reply when another message came in from him.

[Oh, and I forgot to tell you, I've always had a girlfriend. She said she'd take care of me tonight. I was so touched. No girl has ever said that to me before. So I can't wrong her anymore.]

Good grief, was Ryan planning to latch onto me for life?

I felt things were getting off track, so I quietly contacted his mom.

Mrs. Carter's instruction was: Feel free to stir up some drama.

The next day, after Ryan sobered up, I asked him if he remembered what he said last night.

Ryan scratched his head raw but couldn't recall a thing.

I prompted him, "You told me last night that you've been seeing nine other girls behind my back. You said they're all prettier, more understanding, and better at making you happy than me. You said sleeping next to me every night gives you nightmares, that seeing me often makes you sick..."

As I spoke, I started wailing, dramatically wiping away tears. At the crucial part, I stopped, clutching my chest, choking up.

I deserved an Oscar.

Ryan, panicked, tried to hug me. I pushed him, and he rolled right off the couch onto the floor.

"Don't touch me, Ryan! I think... I need time to process what you said last night. I need to think carefully about where we stand. I'm moving out for now," I said, my voice shaky.

"No, Olivia, don't be impulsive! I can explain!" Ryan begged.

To really sell the 'devastated by Ryan' act, I mentally listed every gross thing I'd ever seen. Finally, the moment he hugged me, I threw up.

All over him.

I looked pale, "Ryan, I'm sorry. I just can't face you right now."

The vomit was making him gag too, but he still pretended it was fine and tried to comfort me.

How I wished he could stay away from me!

I leaped back like a startled cat, refusing to let him touch me.

He reluctantly agreed to let me move out temporarily.

I packed my things. All the bags, jewelry, luxury skincare, clothes, and shoes he'd given me. I took everything.

He looked suspicious. "Why does it feel like you're not planning to come back?"

Feeling guilty but putting on a brave front, I retorted, "What, you're hoping I won't come back? So you can break up and run to your other girlfriends?"

Ryan shut up, not daring to say another word.

I hauled my mountain of luggage noisily downstairs. He didn't even offer to help.

With everything piled up, Ryan asked insincerely, "Want me to give you a ride?"

The moving truck was already here, genius. A little late for that.

Of course, I couldn't let him drive me. I didn't want my new happy place exposed. "No need, the truck is fine."

Looking in the truck's rearview mirror, Ryan was already long gone.

I thought I finally got freedom.

He didn't make a move, just sent a few flower baskets when the shop opened.

Chloe chirped, "This time, you're really free!"

Little did we know, the real trouble was just beginning.

The shop was busy. Passersby seeing our floral discounts couldn't resist popping in. Chloe and I were spinning like tops, swamped from open to close, not even having time to eat.

Just as we caught our breath, it was time to interview baristas.

I opened the job app and saw a message from an applicant saying he'd arrived.

Stepping outside, I looked around but didn't see the face from the resume. I was about to text him to ask if he had the wrong place.

Suddenly, someone grabbed my hand, "Olivia, stop looking. The interviewee is me."