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I follow him into the house with a small, hopeful smile on my face. Nothing’s fixed; one productive conversation doesn’t mean we’re cured.
But it’s a start.
CHAPTERNINE
NATASHA
No amountof Chinese takeout or romantic comedies on Netflix can distract me from the gaping hole in my chest. I lost the two most important men in my life. My best friend and my boyfriend. Gone, in the blink of an eye.
And I only have myself to blame.
My phone chimes on the couch beside me. I close my eyes and sigh. It’s probably Evan again, asking if I’m okay, wondering where I am. I’m at Hailey’s, but he doesn’t know that. I don’t want him to know because if he knows, he might come for me, and I don’t want that.
Except I do. Ireally, reallydo.
The phone vibrates as a reminder that I’ve missed a text. I flip it over, then blink twice at the name on the screen. It wasn’t Evan who texted me, but Ollie.
I swipe down to read the message.
Ollie: Yoga at 3?
This is the first I’ve heard from him since our big fight. I wanted to text him every day since it happened, but I didn’t think he’d be happy to hear from me. I wonder if he and Evan ever managed to sit down and talk about their issues. I suppose the only way to find out is to ask. But it’s not the kind of thing you just bring up out of the blue.
My stomach flutters as I type back a quick,Okay.
I know which gym he wants to meet at. It’s the same one we always went to together, every Monday, Wednesday, and Friday afternoons. I put on a pair of leggings and a loose tank, then grab my bag and head out the door.
Ollie is already there when I arrive, stretching on a yoga mat. He’s already laid one out for me beside him.
All good signs, I tell myself. Still, I don’t want to get my hopes up.
“Hey,” I say to Ollie.
“Hi.” His smile is brief, but genuine. “I, uh, got you a mat.”
“Thanks.” I lay my bag down on the floor and take a seat on the yoga mat.
Our instructor, Skyler, welcomes us to the class and starts us off with a warm-up. I try to focus on my breathing and my posture over the next hour, but I can’t resist stealing glances at Ollie.
Is he still angry with me?I wonder.And does he still expect me to choose between him and Evan?
After class is over, Ollie suggests we grab smoothies at the café across the street, his treat. Seated together at a table by the window, neither of us seems eager to be the one to ruin the tenuous good mood.
“I’m sorry,” I say finally, stabbing at my strawberry-mango smoothie with my straw. “I’m sorry for keeping my relationship with your dad a secret. I should have told you who he was from the beginning.”
“Yeah,” he says. “You should have.”
I wait for Ollie to say more. When he doesn’t, I soldier on.
“I know you want me to choose, but I can’t. I can’t choose between the two of you. I want you both. I don’t want to lose our friendship, but I can’t be around you and not think of him, and I can’t be with him and not miss you. You’re my family. And Evan is…”
My daddy… He’s my daddy.
Thankfully, I know better than to say that out loud.
“He’s like my family, too,” I say.
Ollie runs a hand through his messy locks. “Do you really want to date my dad, Nat? Be honest with me.”
