Olivia

Pulling into my driveway, the day’s victory fades fast—Pete’s standing at the edge of my walkway. It looks like he just got here as he’s walking up the drive when he pauses and turns in the direction of my car pulling up. He’s made several attempts since last week to talk to me, but I haven’t wanted to. I don’t want to know who he sleeps with, let alone that it’s my ex-friend.

For a split second I wonder if maybe I’m wrong, if he may have tried the door. Does Sam know he’s here? Sam showing up on my doorstep last night stunned and overwhelmed me with relief. We didn’t get a chance to talk—he was almost reluctant to. Paige was thrilled to have our guests and there was no denying how ecstatic she was to be pampered by them both.

Preparing for my confrontation with Pete, I quickly catalogue my day, which went very well. Mrs. Preston signed off on the final designs, and all orders have been placed and set to arrive on time. All around, the past twenty-four hours have been fantastic.

I groan at the thought of having to face Pete, which will likely erase all the good of today. Walking past him toward the door, I do the immature thing and ignore him.

“Olivia,” he frantically calls out while pulling on my arm.

Whirling to face him, my glacial stare prevents him from saying any more.

“Pete, stop right there. I’m going to make this real simple. We. Are. Divorced. Who you sleep with is none of my business. Yes, if it’s one of my friends, call me crazy and unreasonable”—my tone is sarcastic, unable to keep my spiel neutral—“but I do expect to be told. With that said, we’re not getting back together. Ever.”

“Olivia,” he protests. “I broke it off with Erin. I don’t want her.”

Holding my hand up, I continue, “Pete, you and I being over has nothing to do with Erin. The chance to mend our marriage is long gone. The way I see it, I easily spent the last five years of our marriage telling you what was missing, what we needed to work on, what we needed to do. It was like talking to a brick wall. You remained silent and refused to talk about it or meet me halfway. I even gave you the benefit of the doubt, giving you time to digest and formulate your thoughts. No matter how much time I gave you—days, weeks, months—you never had anything to say. We can’t go back Pete. We’re done. I’ll always care about you and love you. Yes, I love you for what we had. You’re the father of my children. We made some beautiful humans and some wonderful memories. But, that’s it. I want to be civil and amicable for our kids, but you and I, we don’t exist anymore. There is no us.”

In some weird way, it pains me to say it all again. I don’t want to hurt him. Yes, he hurt me, and I guess he perhaps thinks I hurt him, but somewhere along the way, we no longer fit, no longer worked together. I tried. In my heart of hearts, I tried my hardest, fought for us, for our life together, but he didn’t show up. It’s the story of my life with Pete Hayes.

“Shit, Liv.” His voice is heavy, pained. “I messed up. I know that now. I was a dumb fuck who thought we’d be together forever. I buried my head in the sand and thought if I ignored it, it would go away. I can’t imagine my life without you. The days since our separation have been the darkest of my life. It kills me to think that there isn’t a chance for us. I need you. I love you.Please give us another chance.” His eyes are wide and beseeching.

His plea only confirms what I already know. At one point in time, his words would have paved the way to reconciliation. They would have given me hope and likely bought us a few more years. Now, hearing his profession of love and his regrets does nothing. I feel nothing. Empty. Hollow.

All I have is pity for him, pity that he was given so many chances and chose to do nothing. I wish him no ill will, but I’m no longer in love with him, haven’t been for years.

“Pete, there are no more chances.”

“Liv,” he croaks, his eyes glassy.

My chest sputters; I truly don’t want to hurt him. Sure, I’m disappointed in some of what’s happened and definitely in the most recent events, but I want us to get along. Taking my hand, he pulls me closer. Placing my palm on his chest, I keep a small distance between us. This is goodbye, nothing else.

“You’re a good guy, you just couldn’t give me what I need. I think you know as much as I do where things went wrong, and I finally realized I couldn’t ask you to give me something you haven’t got to give.” I blink back my tears. We both need this moment for very different reasons. “I’ve moved on. I’ve found someone else who I’m crazy about and love dearly. I wish you the best life and I hope you find love again—you deserve it.”

As I squeeze his hand, we stare intently into each other’s eyes. Even with only the pale moonlight, I can make out the distress and sadness in his features. Like myself, he’s changed, and perhaps even learned and grown because of this. I wish only the best for him. I hope he learns from this and finds happiness.

“Olivia.” He sighs. “I’ll always love you.” He pulls me in for a brief hug, kissing my hair before releasing me.

“Bye Pete.”

With a nod, his voice low, he adds, “Tell Paige I love her and I’ll call her tomorrow.”

I smile and nod. Shifting from one foot to the other, he looks longingly at me. Awkwardly, I avert my gaze, there’s nothing else to say. He needs to move on, let me go.