Page 139 of Fly with Me

“So perfect you just left?”

“Olive… things were too easy between us. Magical romance? This kind of thing—sparks and fantasy—it isn’t real. I’ve never believed it existed. Not for me.” She touched the brick wall beside her as if she needed extra support. “We’re so different but it just worked. All of it worked.”

Why was she saying all of this like what they had together was a bad thing? Like she regretted that it worked.

And then it clicked in Olive’s brain. A sharp bolt of understanding pierced the fog. It was that too-familiar voice that always hissed about catastrophe and triggered the worst of Olive’s darkest days. That stupid voice now bellowed the truth that Olive had been desperate not to see.

Stella doesn’t want you because you’re broken.

Olive’s hands covered her eyes, messing up the hair she’d been so worried about hours ago. Olive thought of her dad on the phone. He was so devastated over her mother’s depression. Olive had days like that. Could Olive inflict herself on a partner?

Lindsay’s words continued to echo over and over and over again. She’s never going to want you that way. Lindsay had been with her for years. She’d seen it too. Broken.

Stella was gorgeous, successful, and perfect. Eventually, Stella would meet someone else. Someone she wasn’t embarrassed to post photos of on her Instagram. Someone more successful. More driven. To use the same word Stella just did. She needed someone who could actually help her in her career and not tie her more firmly to the ground. Stella was meant to soar. All Olive would ever be was a tether.

Olive had gone into tonight wanting to tell Stella she loved her.

But now, as much as she wanted to, Olive couldn’t be that selfish.

She loved Stella too much to ask anything more of her.

Olive willed her voice to be steady and calm. It wasn’t Stella’s job to take care of her right now. She’d done enough. She straightened and wrapped her coat around her, but it didn’t block any of the chill. “I think I need to go home.” Olive tried to swallow, but her throat felt thick. “After all, it’s time to break up.”

“Break up?”

“The fake relationship. Just like what you said. After tonight, the promotion and everything. You should be good. It worked.” That hot pressure built beneath Olive’s face, but she could hold it back a little longer. “I am so thrilled for you. You really deserve all of it. And I… I just want you to be happy.” Her hand reached out and patted Stella’s. Once. Twice.

No, that was too much. Olive didn’t want to let go, but she had to.

“I’m so sorry to leave like this. I just… I can’t be here right now.” Olive paused, wanting the woman in front of her to say something, but she didn’t. The Stella who always talked in paragraphs and learned breath control so she wouldn’t have to pause before her thoughts came out was absolutely silent.

She didn’t tell Olive to stay.

She didn’t stop her when Olive turned back toward the alley leading to the street in front of the hotel.

All Olive heard was the echoing scrape of her uncomfortable shoes on uneven concrete as her tears froze to her cheeks.

Stella never said anything.

Chapter 50

Derek sat at her kitchen counter, staring at Olive as if she were a ticking time bomb. Her black tights skimmed over the kitchen floor as she put away the flowers Joni had sent and the food she’d dropped off. He pushed a glass of ice water across the granite toward her. She wished it were whiskey, but the new therapist she had seen yesterday thought the drinking might be making the depression worse.

Why did healthy life choices sometimes fucking suck?

She’d sat in the back at the funeral. Her niece beelined to her as soon as the service ended and jumped into her arms, demanding to know when she’d babysit her again. Heather had hugged her once too. They hadn’t asked her to help with anything, though. Morgan sat on her right while Derek sat on her left and held her hand the entire time.

Through the priest’s homily.

Through the long, drawn-out prayers.

Through the liturgical music.

All things Jake wouldn’t have wanted.

None of it seemed like her brother.

Maybe that was why she hadn’t cried.