Olivia

I woke up in the dark, not sure where I was for a moment.

Then it all came back to me. I was in New York, and in Xavier’s apartment. We’d been out tonight, and he’d bought me the most incredible dress to go out in.

I hoped it would be good for a second wearing. When we’d gotten home, he’d asked if he could take me in the shower as he undressed me.

“Why?” I asked.

“Because you always make love to mermaids in water,” he said.

Well.

When put like that, what woman would say no? I smiled to myself. I certainly couldn’t. I glanced at the clock. It was only about two hours after we’d gone to bed, and I knew I would be sore tomorrow morning. These sexual encounters were more like marathon gymnastic sessions.

Not that I was complaining. The sex was incredible.

But now, oddly, I was wide awake.

Moving slowly so as not to wake Xavier, whose steady breathing made me feel good for some reason, I slid out of bed and grabbed his shirt from the pile of clothing around the bedroom.

I loved that about him. He lived in the moment, and didn’t care about whether things were messy or involved at the time—he went with what was happening right now.

Feeling thirsty and restless, I headed for the kitchen. After getting a glass of water, I went for my messenger bag and pulled out my laptop.

While I didn’t like to admit it, I’d seen all the photographers. I wondered if they’d gotten any pictures of us—I wanted to see how we looked together, and if my dress looked as wonderful as it felt.

As Xavier said it did.

The thought of what the dress had inspired made my cheeks warm.

Best sex ever didn’t even cover it.

My eyes stopped as I scrolled through the Google headlines.

‘XTC Out With New Lady Love? So Why The Backroom Orgy?’

What?

What the hell?

I clicked.

There were pictures of us coming into the club, walking through. Seeing these brought back all the noise and the light show that had been going on.

Then there was a picture of the two of us as we came up the stairs into the private party area, and I noted how protective Xavier looked with me. He was really close.

In all of the pictures, he had a hand on me.

Then I saw what prompted the second half of the headline.

He was in a small hallway, and there were four women around him. One was practically glued to him, the tart, and he had his hands on her chest.

I looked at the caption. ‘Attentive lover in public, all hands on the decks in the dark halls’

What asshole had written such horrible copy?

I almost laughed at my business mind critiquing the presentation, and then I looked again.

His eyes were closed, and no one in that picture looked unhappy.

This was the club tonight.

When had he been away from me? He’d only left my side to—

The restroom.

To go to the restroom.

And, apparently, get his freak on.

Tears sprang to my eyes. We weren’t freaky enough? He had to kiss and grope multiple women on the way to the bathroom?

Just a few hours ago, he’d made me feel like a princess.

This picture, this garbage—this wasn’t him.

But this feeling, this sinking feeling, this nearly crippling insecurity—it was me.

This was his life. There would always be drunken women waiting for him in a dark hallway. He was too beautiful, too sexy, and to fabulous to always keep them at bay, even with trying.

There would always be some tart waiting to grab him and her fifteen minutes—and I would need to live with that.

Could I?

After the mess of the previous weekend, where I’d suspected the worst of him—I didn’t know.

But what I did know was seeing this was like a knife in my heart. Right in the middle of it, where it was so shocking, the hit so deep, that it took your breath away.

I looked at the picture again. The tears fell unchecked.

I couldn’t.

He deserved better. His world was so not my world, and if I wanted to be in his world, I had to live with the things that came with it.

I couldn’t.

The answer was staring me in the face, but I sat and cried, not wanting to acknowledge it.

Finally, I got up.

Quietly, I gathered my things, which seemed to have exploded all over Xavier’s apartment. I packed my bag up and then called for a cab.

I could call the airline on the way to the airport.

But I couldn’t stay.

At the door, I took a last look around the apartment.

“I’m sorry,” I said to the quiet room. “I wanted to stay.”

The door made no noise as it closed behind me.

* * *

Just before boarding the plane, I sent a text to Xavier. It was a picture of what I’d seen, and then I sent another.

‘You deserve better. I can’t live like this, with this, having to see it. I’m sorry. I’ll always care about you.’

It seemed inadequate to cover why I was leaving, but he would know what upset me. I didn’t want to send him a weeping text because that was even more pathetic.

It nearly killed me that I’d found a guy I could be with and thought I was falling for, and I had to leave.

He didn’t leave me, he wasn’t the asshole—it was me.

I couldn’t trust. I couldn’t handle the scrutiny. The rush to make problems where there were none on the part of the press. And the women.

I couldn’t handle the women.

The kind of women that Xavier would have following him until he died. He was that sexy.

No.

It was better that I leave, and let him find someone who could manage it, and not fall apart, or need constant reassurance, or whatever it was I needed.

For Pete’s sakes. I didn’t even know what it was that I needed. But I couldn’t take the knife in the heart on a regular basis, and it wasn’t Xavier’s problem to fix it for me.

Once the plane took off, I started to cry in earnest.

This was my fault.

For the first time, I couldn’t get what I wanted, and it was all my fault.

Xavier

I felt the sun on my face, and I rolled over, reaching for Livvie.

The space next to me was empty and cold.

I sat up.

How had she gotten up so early? We’d had the most amazing sex I’d ever had. I’d nearly told her I loved her, but that was pretty high on the creeper factor. I’d kissed her instead, telling her with my body.

I smiled. Maybe we could do it again this morning, and then go out and have a long, lazy brunch. That sounded like a great fucking way to end this weekend.

Swinging my legs out of bed, I pulled on my sweats to go see what she thought of my fantastic plan.

But when I went out into the living room, it was quiet and still.

“Livvie?” I said.

No answer.

What the fuck?

“Livvie!” I shouted.

There was no one to respond.

Where was she?

I found my phone and saw that she’d texted me.

Oh, holy shit.

I looked at the picture she’d sent. And the text.

‘You deserve better. I can’t live like this, having to see it, with this. I’m sorry. I’ll always care about you.’

Those fucking women in the hallway. Groping me, kissing me—where had the pap been? That asshole. I looked at the byline, and I recognized the name.

It was the guy who wanted a picture of Olivia and me with Marcus and Kristine. Guess this was his way of telling me to fuck off with my refusal.

A wave of anger rolled through me, feeling like a rising wave that would pull me under.

I punched a number. I needed to deal with this before I tried to talk to Olivia. I was so mad, and I didn’t want to talk to her mad.

Plus, I felt guilty. I lived such a fucked up life, who could blame her? She didn’t, but she was honest that this wasn’t for her.

Which made sense when you looked at my exes. What kind of woman could handle this?

The sort I’d ended it with.

No, I would talk with Olivia, but not until after I took care of this asshole.

“Brandon, you fuck, you’re going down,” I muttered.

“What in the hell do you want?” Tibby’s tired voice finally answered.

“I want you to file harassment charges for me,” I said.

“What?” She was awake now.

“I was assaulted when I went out last night. I didn’t make a fuss, because I knew no one would believe me. I want to file charges with the NYPD, and I have pictures to show it happened.” I was so mad, I could feel my heart racing, and my hand not holding the phone clenched and unclenched without me even thinking about it.

Tibby could hear it.

“Okay, slow down, X. Tell me what happened.”

“Go to your computer, Tib. I’ll show you.”

“Good night, Maggie,” she muttered. “Hang on. I’m all naked and shit,” she added.

My anger eased a little. Tibby could always make me laugh.

I could hear Seth in the background, and she said something in response, but she was trying to be quiet.

Then her voice came back, and she was All-Business Tibby.

“Okay, I’m at my desk. What is it I need to see?”

I directed her to the site.

“Oh, X, these pics of you are great! Is that Olivia? She’s really gorgeous. Like, too gorgeous for you! What is so ba—oh.”

She stopped.

“Yeah. Oh.”

“Okay, that’s a big downer for the night. How did this happen?”

I explained, starting with the Brandon asshole who wanted our pic, to the fact that he was the guy who had taken this one of the women with me, and how Olivia had found it.

“She left. She left, Tib. She told me that I deserved better because she couldn’t handle this.”

“She said that to you?”

“Well, she sent me a text.”

“A text?” Her voice rose. “She broke up with you via a text message?”

“I understand why she did it,” I defended her.

“I don’t!”

“I do. You don’t know the whole story,” I said.

“Before I do anything, you need to tell me everything. Everything, X. I’m not going out on a limb to help you with someone who isn’t worth your time.”

So while it made me grit my teeth to not be on top of the asshole who took the pics, and the women who were probably planted to make the pics, I explained.

About Livvie, and where she was with her ex.

Her fears. Her hurt.

How we’d fought after I disappeared for a weekend.

The way we’d made up.

And how she’d agreed to trust me.

Finally, I told her how Olivia didn’t blame me for this latest shitty mess, but herself.

“I get it,” I finished. “My life isn’t easy for someone who isn’t all fame hungry or doesn’t have an agenda. She’s got an asshole ex, but her life is pretty normal.”

“Then why do you want her back?” Tibby asked. Her voice was softer than normal.

“Because I’ve been looking at the people who want to be part of the world I work in, and they are insane. You know that. Do I need to remind you? Marcia?”

“Yeah, yeah, I know. She’s a damn nut. Maybe this is just too far the other way?” Tibby didn’t sound like she was going to be convinced.

“I want her, Tib. And I think she wants me.”

“Have you talked to her?”

“Not yet. She’s probably on a plane, for one, and two, I’m pissed. I don’t want to say something I might regret.”

“If someone loves you—”

“We haven’t gotten that far yet,” I interrupted.

“Then they understand that mistakes are made. And this one isn’t even your fault.”

“It sure looks like it, and I appreciate that she’s being honest about whether or not she can handle it.”

Tibby sighed in a loud, exaggerated fashion. “X, you make my point. If she knows she can’t handle the shit that is part of your life, why do you want her?”

“Tib, you married Seth in what seemed like an awfully hasty amount of time.”

“What does that have to do with anything?” She sounded annoyed.

“I didn’t say anything, even when I hadn’t met him, and I was worried. I figured after all this time, you’d learned who was good, and who wasn’t, and I trusted you when you said to me that you loved him and were happy, and you knew this was right. I trusted you.” I left that sitting there.

There was a silence, and Tibby sighed again. “You’re right. You had no reason to believe anything. Listen, I’ll help you, but can I come up and see you?”

“When?”

“Today.”

“What the hell?”

“We are coming to see you. I need to talk to you, and then, if…well, then I’ll work with you, and I’ll help you get her back if that is what you want. Okay?”

“You are making no sense, and kind of scaring me. Are you pregnant?”

“Bite your damn tongue. No. Are you going to be around today or not?”

“Yes.”

“All right. Here’s what I want you to do, so you don’t go off half-cocked and cost me more time than I’m already going to take off for you. Text Olivia, tell her you’re sorry, and you’ll give her some space, or whatever, and DO NOT,” she emphasized, “I repeat, DO NOT, one, go out of your apartment. Two, do not so much as look at a reporter of any sort. Three, do not attempt to get in touch with this site. Do you understand?”

“What are you, my mom?”

“No, I’m your long-suffering attorney. Promise me, X.”

“All right,” I said after a moment. “I promise. I’ll wait for you to get here.”

“She’s not going anywhere,” Tibby said cheerfully. “You know where she lives, don’t you?”

“Well, yeah.”

“So keep your shit together, and I’ll be there as soon as I can. Seth!” I heard her yell. “Get up! We gotta go! So hey,” she was back talking to me, “Go easy on yourself, okay?”

“All right,” I said again. I sounded like a grumpy twelve-year-old.

“I love you, X.”

“Love you too, Tib.”

“All right,” she said, mocking my tone. “See you soon.”

She hung up.

What the hell was I going to do until they got here?

Olivia

I got off the plane and headed for the taxi area. Silently, avoiding the eyes of others, avoiding my own thoughts as much as possible, I gave the driver my address.

Laying my head against the window, I closed my eyes and tried not to think.

But all I could see was his face.

When he’d come back to me, heart in hand, he’d been earnest. I knew he was telling me the truth. I kept seeing it, seeing the hurt in his eyes.

So why had I run?

Because I didn’t want to get sucked back in, so that when the next picture came out, or the story, or whatever—I would be hurt all over again.

I didn’t want to be hurt anymore.

Everyone got hurt in relationships. I knew that. But at some point, there has to be a place where you just say ‘Stop.’

As much as I lov—liked Xavier, I couldn’t go any further. I’d given everything to Royce, and I was still trying to heal the open wound he’d put in my back.

These things with Xavier were like someone hitting me in that wound. It seeped, and bled, and couldn’t heal.

This wasn’t on him, and I couldn’t change how I felt.

So…that meant I needed to be the one to stop things before they got too out of hand. Before I was perpetually angry. Before he was upset and resentful.

Seeing those women surrounding him, I felt anger that I hadn’t ever experienced. The anger I felt towards Royce when I found out about his infidelity—that was close.

This hurt more.

I couldn’t live in a world where I was so open, so vulnerable to hurt.

When I got home, I called Momma.

“Hello, sweetheart!” She trilled. “How was your weekend?”

“It was all right,” I said.

Momma knew me well. “What is it?” Her voice changed.

“I ended it, Momma.”

“What?” Her voice went up at least an octave. “Olivia Anne, you’d best explain yourself. Right this moment! Lloyd! She’s gone round the bend!” She yelled.

“Momma, I am not round the bend. I’m unfortunately disturbingly practical. I didn’t know that you liked him all that much anyway,” I added.

“I liked him just fine, missy. He was good for you, and in spite of what I might have been led to believe prior, Xavier is a good man. So what the hell went wrong?”

Led to believe? I nearly laughed. Leave it to Momma to take no blame for her assumptions.

“I don’t want to talk about it right now, Momma. Can I call you later? I just want to go to bed.”

I was ignoring the fact that in the time since I’d left I’d heard nothing from Xavier.

Surely he’d noticed me gone. Gotten my text. Seen why I was gone.

Why hadn’t he called?

Because you left him, again, my snide inner voice told me. Who wants to run after someone who always leaves?

I had to leave, I thought. I can’t let myself go crazy.

Maybe you could just trust him, the inner voice responded.

“Oh, shut up,” I muttered.

“Did you just tell me to shut up?” Momma sounded beyond indignant.

“No, Momma,” I said, feeling the tears coming again. “I’m tired, and my head is all over the place. I’ll talk to you later.” I ended the call because I just couldn’t take it.

Not right now.

The only thing I could take was a shower.

Leaving my bag on the floor, I stripped, letting my clothes fall where I dropped them. I turned the heat up as high as I could stand it, and stood in the shower, my tears mingling with the hot water.

When it got to the point I thought I might fall over, I got out, brushed my hair, pulled on a nightgown, and crawled into bed.

It was over.

Xavier

I paced. Tibby had texted when she and Seth landed. They’d be here shortly.

I was glad because being here with only my thoughts was enough to drive me crazy. I wanted to call Olivia, to text her. To let her know, we could get through this. To tell her not to give up on us.

To tell her I loved her.

That I’d never loved anyone like I loved her.

But as I listed, in my head, all the reasons I wanted her with me, I struggled with why she might want me with her. I was fan-fucking-tastic, but was that enough?

It was clear, to Olivia, and to me, too, that it wasn’t.

The relief nearly knocked me over when I heard the buzz of the door down below.

“Yes?”

“Let me in. I’m tired,” Tibby said.

I hit the buzzer, and within minutes, she was walking in my door.

“X, you look like shit,” she said.

“I feel worse, so thanks.”

“Hey, man,” Seth held out his hand. “I’m sorry about all this.”

“You didn’t do anything,” I said, surprised.

“Doesn’t mean I don’t feel for you.” He smiled.

Once again, I found that I really liked the guy. Tibby had chosen well.

So had I. So why was she running, damn it?

“What do you have to drink?” Tibby dropped a bag and went to the kitchen.

“Whatever you want,” I answered. Not even booze sounded good.

“Well, get something.”

“Why?” I turned to look at her. Her tone sounded different.

“Because I have something—well, we—” she looked at Seth, and he nodded encouragingly, “Have something we want to share with you.”

“Okay,” I said slowly. I poured a glass of whiskey.

Tibby poured two, and then she went to the couch, handing one to Seth. “Sit,” she said. “This may take a while.”

“You’re making me nervous,” I said.

“X, what do you remember about our lives after college?”

“What the fuck are you talking about?” Whatever I’d been expecting, this was not it.

“Humor me, jerk. What do you remember?”

“You went to college, and then law school. You and Bryant opened a practice and then like ten minutes ago, you met Seth. Three minutes ago, you got married. You do my legal stuff. I don’t know why you won’t help me with all my website shit. I don’t know why I keep asking,” I shook my head, listening to myself.

Tibby wasn’t looking at me, but at the couch where she sat. She ran her hand along it, and then looked at her hand closely. “Glitter,” she said, showing her hand to Seth.

“What. The. Fuck?” This made no sense. And I was supposed to be the one who drank and ran around.

Even weirder than Tibby’s actions, Seth raised his eyebrows at her and nodded. “It’s him,” he said.

“Tib, you need to tell me what drugs you’re on,” I interrupted.

“Let me tell you why you keep asking me to do web stuff. In another life, I handled all your online shit. I did web development and management. I went to college, but I dropped out of law school because I was fooling around with a partner where I interned, and his wife went apeshit on me. Bryant and I lost touch with each other, and I partied and drank too much, and lived like a hermit because I kept fucking up all my friendships, except yours.”

“I’m calling the doc,” I said, getting up.

“Where’d the glitter come from?” Seth asked.

“What do you mean?” I stopped.

“Why is there glitter all over your couch? Do you remember how it got there?”

“I thought it was just one of the cleaners with body glitter or something,” I shrugged. “I planned to bitch about it, but forgot.”

“You don’t remember a guy? A guy who floated around, shedding glitter like a dog sheds hair?” Seth continued.

“No! I have no—” I stopped, sitting down. “No, I—” Something about what he said triggered a memory, the barest sliver of—something. “I can’t remember!” I said angrily.

Looking over at Tibby and Seth, I could see both of them nodding, and a look of pity on Seth’s face.

“I know where it came from. I don’t know why you don’t, but I do.”

“Okay, wise-ass, where’s it from?” I sat back.

“It’s from a djinn—a genie,” Tibby said, seeing my eyebrows go up. “His name is Dhameer, and he grants wishes. But only wishes he wants to grant—he’s free. Doesn’t live in a lamp, or anything. I think. Anyway,” she waved her hand, as though talk of lamps wasn’t important. “He gave me three wishes, a long time ago. But not normal wishes. He told me he could hear me regretting some of my past choices, and he offered me the chance to go back and make a different choice. I could choose three times in my life where I wished I’d done something different, and then I could see what door number two held.” She smiled at Seth, and he lifted her hand up to his mouth and kissed it.

Then she looked back at me. “I went back, and I did things differently three times. The catch for agreeing to this, for letting Dhameer give this to me, was that he got to determine where I ended up. In the life he found me in, I was pathetic, and working for you. It’s why I don’t kill you with your nagging about the web shit.”

“Hold it,” I held up my hands. “Where does Seth come in, since he obviously knows all this nonsense and didn’t commit you?”

“Seth was wish number two. I met him in college, and I didn’t call him back. I should have.”

“So how did you end up with him?”

“Because in wish number three, I ran into Seth again, and when he hinted that he remembered wish number two, Dhameer yanked me from the third wish. He ended up letting me stay there, and Seth and I worked through the things from wish number two.”

“He knew about it?”

Seth nodded. “Dhameer came to me after I was divorced, and I was thinking about Tibby. He said I could go back, and see what happened. Then I woke up one day, and I was back in my own life. I was furious. He said I needed to be patient, to wait. It was over a year, but I met her again. And we’ve been together ever since.”

They beamed at one another.

I nearly threw up.

But I was too confused to take the time to vomit.

“I’m missing something here.”

Tibby waved. “It doesn’t make sense, I know. The point is, I know that you’ve seen Dhameer at some point in time. I don’t know why you don’t remember. But he’s been here,” she looked at her hand. “Tell me how you met Olivia again.

I went through the plane meeting.

“That was totally him,” Tibby said, looking at Seth. “Don’t you think?”

“You think some glitter guy set me up?” I asked. I was having a hard time with this.

“Yep. Have you made any wishes, to yourself, lately?” Tibby asked. “Not stupid shit, but something big, something really important to you?”

I was about to say no when I remembered their wedding. “Ah, yeah. I did. I was at your wedding, and I wished that I had someone who looked at me like you guys looked at each other.”

“I knew it,” Seth said.

“Yep, the glitter.” Tibby nodded.

“What the hell am I missing here?” I threw up my hands.

“You’ve been visited by our fave djinn. He helped me and Seth find each other again. He must have come to see you. You don’t remember? Dude, you wouldn’t forget. He floats,” Tibby said.

“No,” I said. “No—wait…” I stopped. Something, I wasn’t sure what—it was just out of reach in my memory— “I can’t remember shit. This is all well and good because at least I know the cleaning crew isn’t having a raver, but what does that have to do with Olivia?”

“I bet it has everything to do with her. Dhameer is a sucker for love stories,” Tibby smiled at Seth.

“You’re saying a floating glitter guy sent me Olivia?”

“No, not directly. Just that he made sure your paths would cross. I mean, if she’s the real deal. Like, thunderbolts and lightning?” Seth asked.

“Uh…” I didn’t want to say it, but…fuck it. What do I have to lose? “Yeah, I knew she was special the minute I met her. I didn’t want to admit it, but she’s been thunderbolts and lightening the whole time.”

“So it doesn’t matter that she dumped you and ran away all through a text?” Tibby crossed her arms.

“If I don’t hold it against her, neither can you,” I said.

“Well, you only have one choice,” Seth said.

“Okay?”

“You gotta go get her. You can’t let her go.”

“She doesn’t want to see me,” I said immediately.

“She’s scared,” Tibby interjected. “I’m not real happy with her, but I would bet this scared her. I would be. I spent a lot of my…” she looked away, “Earlier lives scared. It sucks.”

“I don’t even want to get into what the hell that means,” I said, holding out a hand. “But you think I should go and see her? What if she doesn’t want to see me?”

“Then she needs to tell you to your face,” Tibby answered. “You both deserve that.”

I could tell by her expression that she wasn’t going to budge on this. And I was glad. I wanted an excuse, a reason to go to Olivia. I couldn’t let her just walk away. Tibby was right. If she was scared, I wanted to help her.

If she’d let me.

“I know you just got here, but…” I stopped. I felt like an ass.

“Oh, we’ll just stay here till you get back,” Seth said cheerfully. “We didn’t figure you’d be here anyway. So we’ll have a little holiday.” He smiled at Tibby.

I looked at them. “Ewww. You’d better change the sheets,” I said.

“Go pack. Go sort out your shit,” Tibby threw a sofa cushion from me.

I ran.

* * *

I drummed my fingers on the arm of the seat. I’d been able to grab a plane—not mine, but I didn’t care. What good was money if it couldn’t help you out in a jam? I didn’t know what I was going to say.

I’d think of something, and then dismiss it, and here I was, getting ready to land, and I still had no clue what I was going to say.

I’d arranged for a car to be waiting, and I found my fingers kept drumming as we headed for Olivia’s.

“Wait here. If I don’t go in, we’ll be heading back to the airport. If I do, you can leave,” I told the driver as I got out.

He nodded, and I took a deep breath and walked up the steps to the front door.