Chapter 3

Then the overseas call came to my new number.

It was Ryan Clark, Lucas's best friend.

His voice was tired and anxious. "Olivia, finally found you. Are you okay?"

"I'm fine." My voice was flat.

"Look, Lucas, he..." Ryan paused, choosing his words carefully. "He's a mess. Drinks every night, passes out calling your name. He's neglecting the company. His family's panicking."

"Okay," I cut him off. "And that's my problem because?"

Ryan choked on his words, then tried again, pleading. "Olivia, I know he screwed up. I know he hurt you. But you two had three years together. He does know he messed up. Can't you give him another chance? Even just to talk things out?"

I looked out the window at Brighton's gray-blue sky. A few pigeons fluttered down onto my balcony.

"Ryan," I said slowly. "Tell him this for me."

"What?"

"Tell him to stay the hell away from me."

Then I hung up and blocked the number

Silence, at last.

I thought the whole circus would fade with time and distance.

But then, one weekend, I came back from the library and found someone who absolutely shouldn't have been there standing outside my apartment building.

Lucas. He was wearing a crumpled, out-of-season trench coat, leaning against the wall. A few cigarette butts littered the ground around him.

His hair was a mess, his eyes sunken, his jaw covered in stubble. He looked completely wrecked, like a different person.

When he saw me, his eyes lit up like a drowning man spotting a life raft. He stumbled toward me, reaching for my arm. "Olivia."

I stepped back, avoiding his touch. My eyes were calm, steady.

His hand froze in midair. The hope on his face shattered, leaving only misery and pain.

"Olivia, I... I finally found you." His voice was hoarse, thick with tears. "I'm sorry. I know I screwed up. I really do. Please, forgive me. Just this once. Please."

I didn't say anything.

He took my silence as encouragement, or maybe as desperation, and kept rambling, tripping over his words. "I'm trash. I'm an asshole. I was drunk that day. I wasn't thinking straight. You're the only one I love, Olivia. Only you."

He tried to step closer, but my cold stare froze him in place.

"Olivia, don't be like this. Just look at me, okay?" He was practically begging. "Hit me. Yell at me. Do anything. Just don't ignore me. I can't live without you."

"Are you done?" I finally spoke. My voice had zero warmth.

He froze.

"Then get lost," I said.

His face went white, like all the blood had drained out of him. His lips trembled. Finally, he choked out. "Olivia, I just... I just made a mistake any man could make."

I almost laughed out loud.

What a classic. What a pathetic excuse.

"So what?" I raised an eyebrow. "Should I applaud you for earning that 'honor'?"

"No, that's not what I meant." He shook his head frantically, a desperate confusion in his eyes. "Olivia, you weren't like this before. You were kind. You had a soft heart. How did you become so... so cold?"

Yeah. I used to be kind and soft.

That was why he managed to fool me for three years. I was such an idiot, believing his sweet words while he was off making out with some other girl in the rain.

"Lucas." I looked him straight in the eye, enunciating each word. "Your love is dirty. It makes me sick."

He stumbled back like I'd hit him, almost falling over.

His eyes showed total disbelief and utter despair.

"No, that's not true," he mumbled, then suddenly jerked his head up like he'd found one last shred of hope, his eyes wild. "Then why did you take my ring? You said yes to my proposal. Olivia, you loved me."

Yeah. That ring. The one I just chucked into the recycling bin without a second thought.

I looked at his bloodshot, obsessive eyes. I felt exhausted and also weirdly satisfied.

I slowly lifted my hand, letting the sunlight catch my slender, pale fingers. They were completely bare, not a single ring in sight.

I looked at him, a faint, icy smile curling at the corner of my mouth. "Oh, that ring?"

I paused, watching his pupils contract. "I threw it away."