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“Aww,” Olive sighed. “We love you, too, Eva.” Her hug squeezed just a little bit tighter. “I’m sorry Oliver broke your heart.”
“Me too, Olive. But I’ll be okay.” I knew that much. It wasn’t my first heartbreak and it likely wouldn’t be my last, but this one had stung not just my pride but my confidence, too. I’d believed Oliver and worse, I’d believed his words. Let them start to mean something to me when they were just… words.
“Of course, you will be. You’ve got us and TFL.” She flashed a smile.
“Not to put a damper on this moment,” Sophie began with a self-deprecating smile, “but we need to figure out what you plan to do about the bet. Tomorrow is day thirty.”
That was the one thing I did have an answer to. “I’m going to write the damn article, conceding defeat.” I had played the game and lost, it happened to us all. “What better way to advertise our work?”
Sophie laughed. “I’m totally impressed. And worried.”
I did the only thing I could when faced between a crying jag and madness. I laughed.
I laughed and laughed, because it was a heck of a lot better than crying.Oliver“Holy shit, Oliver, you did it!” It was too damn early for Michelle’s excited voice screaming down the line, and I told her as much. She laughed and talked even louder. “It’s never too early to become an Internet fucking sensation, my friend!”
Her words penetrated the deep fog of my sleep brain, enough for me to sit up and ask questions. “Internet sensation?”
“Yeah, buddy!” She talked a mile a minute and I didn’t understand one damn word she said as she blathered on and on while I sat up, scrubbed my eyes, and let them adjust to a room full of sunlight. “It’s great, Oliver. Wonderful, even.”
“English, Michelle. Speak English, and do it slowly.”
“The bet,” she shouted. “You won the damn bet, Oliver! I mean, this is so huge. You can’t even believe how huge it is. Already, the site numbers are blazing, and if someone can pull his pretty little ass out of bed and get down to the studio, we can get some promos and shit done to make the most of it.”
“Promos? The show isn’t until this afternoon.”
“But her article went live an hour ago. We can’t let a bunch of matchmakers get the jump on us, can we?”
I bristled at her referring to Eva and Sophie and Olive as a ‘bunch of matchmakers.’ They were more than that, hard workers and good businesswomen. “Yeah, I guess not. I’ll be there as soon as I can.”
“Now!” That one word echoed down the line before it went dead.
I sat there for a long moment just staring at my feet as I wriggled my toes in the plush carpeting. Eva had written the article, declaring herself the loser when it was clear which of us was the real loser.
Me.
I grabbed my tablet off the nightstand and pulled up the Time For Love website. Right there on the homepage was Eva’s article.
Lucky To Not Be In Love
I lost. I lost the bet. I lost my heart. I lost the guy.
Well, that last part isn’t quite true because I never really had him, and that’s the lesson I had to learn through this process. My bet opponent, if you will, had no lesson to learn. Oliver March, best known as Your Best Bachelor, won our thirty-day bet.
He did not fall in love with any of the women Time For Love’s unique algorithm matched him with, including me. He gave it a good-faith effort and even I have to admit that Oliver seems quite content with his life.
That was a damn lie and we both knew it. My effort could hardly be described as best effort except when it came to Eva, but here she was painting things in the most positive light imaginable. But I kept reading, determined to feel every stab of the knife.
Oliver has a full life that includes running his column along with a successful podcast. He spends time with his friends, most often throwing back drinks at The Mayflower; he spends time with his family when he can, usually playing the role of fun uncle at their annual vacation.
As much as I loathe writing this next part, Oliver has a happy and full life and he isn’t suffering the effects of being single, which is an important thing to note for anyone seeking a long-term commitment. If you are really and truly happy being single and don’t feel as if anything is missing from your life, keep living your life. But you may decide you want something more, someone to come home to at the end of a long day at the office, someone to complain to about your boss or your best friend, or even your mother, in secret.
