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19
Olivia
I was wrong.
I had believed writing that scathing article would bring me solace. But sitting on my couch, clad in sweatpants with a bowl of ice cream on my lap, I felt far from okay. No wonder Mr. Thompson insisted I take the day off, and I didn’t argue. All I wanted was to be alone.
Writing the article did provide a fleeting moment of satisfaction, but it quickly faded, leaving me in a state of misery and longing for Ethan. It had been three days since I last heard from him, and his silence confirmed he was moving on with that woman. The mere thought of it caused an indescribable pain.
Even the knowledge that the magazine was being released today failed to uplift my spirits. I thought I would feel elated about getting my revenge, but instead, it intensified the ache inside me. I hated myself for trying to hurt him, yet at the same time, I pitied him.
I was trapped in this emotional turmoil, unable to find peace. I absentmindedly scooped another spoonful of ice cream into my mouth while a heartbreak song played on the television.Lost in my thoughts, I suddenly felt a vibration coming from the couch, jolting me out of my reverie.
Startled, I jumped up, clutching the ice cream bowl to my chest and looking for the source of the disturbance. It was then I realized it was my phone ringing. Placing a hand over my racing heart, I put the ice cream on the table and picked up the phone. It was James.
Was he back already? He mentioned calling me when he returned, but I thought he wasn’t coming back until tomorrow. Setting aside my confusion, I picked up the call.
“Olivia,” James rushed, his voice filled with panic. Worry consumed me as I wondered what was wrong. My anxiety escalated when I heard the sound of something hitting metal and James shouting, “Ethan!”
“What’s going on? Where are you?” Panic surged through me, and I started to pace. Were they fighting? Did James come back without telling me and confront Ethan? I hoped it hadn’t escalated to that point. “James, tell me what’s happening? Is Ethan okay?”
“Oh Lord, Olivia you need to come see Ethan,” he said in a rush before letting out a heavy sigh. “He needs you.”
“W-what?” I stammered, my heart palpitating in my chest. “What happened to him? Please, James, give me more details. What happened to Ethan?”
“He just found out that Parker isn’t really his child and that Jessica was lying to extort money from him,” James explained calmly.
“What?” I exclaimed, finding it hard to believe. How could someone do that? Ethan must be hurting, especially after what Jessica did to him six years ago.
“And everything, including their first meeting six years ago, was orchestrated by Jessica and her boyfriend. It’s a completemess . . .” he trailed off. “He didn’t confront Jessica in public, so now he’s taking his anger out on his car.”
“Oh my God! Are you serious? How can anyone be so cruel and heartless?” I blurted out, anger surging through me. “I can’t believe she did that to him, twice!”
As Ethan’s pain consumed my thoughts, I suddenly remembered the compulsive act I had committed in the heat of my anger—the scathing article titledEthan Beckett, The Devil No One Knew.The realization hit me hard. If Ethan sees this article, it would only add to his anguish. My heart shattered at the thought of hurting him more than he already was, especially since it was coming from me.
“Oh no, James, I did something terrible!” I exclaimed, pacing and running a hand through my messy hair.
What should I do? The magazine was being released today.
“What happened, Olivia? Are you okay?” James asked, his voice filled with concern.
“I need to go. Please take care of Ethan,” I said, quickly hanging up the phone.
I picked up my keys and rushed out of the house, still dressed in my sweats. I dialed Mr. Thompson’s number, desperately hoping that by some stroke of luck, he had yet to send the article for printing. But his number wasn’t connecting. Hailing a taxi, I quickly made my way, continuously calling Mr. Thompson without success.
It wasn’t until I sawThe Daily Chronicle’sbuilding come into view that Mr. Thompson’s call finally went through. I quickly exited the taxi and said into the phone, “Mr. Thompson, have you sent the article to print?”
“It was sent yesterday, Miss. McKenna,” Mr. Thompson said flatly, shattering the remaining pieces of my heart. “What’s wrong? Why are you asking and weren’t you supposed to be resting?”
“Oh no!” I exclaimed as I came to a stop in front of the building. “Do you know if it has been printed?”
“What kind of question is that? You know the magazine will be released today by 2:00 pm, so it obviously has been printed. Copies should be arriving at the main office any minute now.”
Tears stung my eyes as I felt my world crumbling around me. Just then, I noticed the delivery truck from the printers arrive and a few of their workers starting to unload boxes. I hung up the phone and approached one of the men and pleaded for a copy. Initially confused, I sought confirmation from the receptionist to confirm with the delivery man that I was indeed an employee and the writer of the main article.
The moment the magazine touched my hand, my eyes fell on the handsome face of the man on the front cover and tears ran down my cheeks. Contrary to what I had expected, the headline staring back at me wasn’tEthan Beckett, The Devil No One Knew,butEthan Beckett, The Man Behind Healthverse.
In my confused state, I quickly flipped through the pages to find that the published article wasn’t the scathing one I had sent to Mr. Thompson, but the original one I had written. How? I was certain I had sent the other version to him, so how did he get this? I couldn’t figure out what happened, but I was immensely relieved and grateful. Some kind of miracle must have occurred. I soon discovered the true miracle when I heard Naomi’s voice behind me.
