The next morning feels like walking on eggshells. Except, instead of eggs, it's more like spiky shards of glass that are somehow constantly poking my feet.
I haven't heard from Eli since last night. After the fake wedding proposal that somehow wasn't a joke (why do I keep falling into this?) and the mysterious message from Olivia, it feels like everything's about to hit the fan.
And not in the cute, romantic rom-com way where everything falls into place. More like a big, massive storm that's been gathering on the horizon, and I can see the thunderclouds coming.
Great.
I pull on my oversized hoodie, because why would I wear anything that's not designed to hide my emotions at this point, and head downstairs to grab coffee. Maybe if I drown myself in enough caffeine, I'll forget about the looming disaster that is my fake wedding with a guy who's still texting his ex.
When I enter the kitchen, there's Eli. Staring down at his phone like it's the answer to the universe or the final boss in a video game. His face is tight. Pained. Not exactly the "I've had a hilarious night and I'm ready for my breakfast burrito" kind of expression I was hoping for.
"Hey," I say, approaching cautiously. "How's the… pretending-to-be-in-love thing going?"
He doesn't look up. Doesn't smile. "Olivia's here."
I freeze.
"Here?" I repeat, almost choking on the word. "As in, like—here?"
He nods. "She's in the living room."
I'm not sure if my heart sinks or if it's my stomach that does a freefall. Either way, I feel like I'm seconds away from hyperventilating.
I rub my temples. "You said you'd handle it. I didn't sign up to deal with her."
"Believe me, I don't want you to. But you're right, you're already in this mess. You might as well meet her."
Oh, great. Just great. Nothing says romantic comedy like meeting the ex who still thinks she's the "one" and wants to convince the world you're the 'other woman.'
I sigh. "Fine. Let's get this over with."
---
When we step into the living room, Olivia's sitting there, all perfectly styled, like she was born with an Instagram filter. Her blonde hair is a little too perfect, her makeup a little too flawless, and her smile? Well, it's got that "I'm totally here to ruin your life, but I'm going to do it with a smile" vibe.
I try not to roll my eyes. I try to remember that this is about Eli and his business, not my deeply unamused feelings about being trapped in a fake relationship with someone who still looks like she walks straight out of the pages of a lifestyle magazine.
"Eli," Olivia says, her voice dripping with sweetness and way too much familiarity. "We need to talk."
Yeah, no kidding. But instead of making a scene, I stand awkwardly beside him. Waiting. Watching.
She looks at me, and for a split second, the corner of her mouth twitches like she's already decided I'm beneath her notice. Classic move.
"You must be the famous... Avery," she says, as if she's just learned my name from a Wikipedia page.
"That's me," I reply, suddenly too aware of how much I'm not wearing a "we're about to fight" outfit. (Seriously, what's the dress code for fighting a professional ex?)
"I'm Olivia," she continues, her eyes sweeping me like I'm a stray dog.
Alright, I think. We're doing this.
"So, are you here to tell Eli you still love him?" I ask casually, crossing my arms. "Or are we just here for the dramatic scene where you accuse me of being a gold digger?"
She arches an eyebrow. "Oh, sweetheart, I don't think you're his type."
I want to laugh. Really, I do. Because I'm definitely not Eli's type. I mean, the last time I checked, "chaotic disaster" wasn't a "type." But then I realize, this isn't a joke.
Olivia's eyes narrow like she's measuring the room for her next move. "The thing is, Eli," she says, standing and walking toward him with that familiar air of confidence, "we have unfinished business."
I look at Eli. His jaw clenches, and for the first time, I see real discomfort in his face. Like he's not sure if he should defend me or not. Like he's still torn.
And that right there is the moment everything shifts.
Olivia smiles, clearly enjoying the moment. She leans in, just a little too close to Eli. "We're not done. We were supposed to be together, and you know it."
And there it is. The red flag that I didn't want to see. The one that makes my insides twist.
The reason he hasn't been able to let go of her.
The thing that's been keeping us stuck in this mess from the start.
I try to hide my discomfort, but I can't. I can't stop the ache in my chest. The uncertainty that now clings to my every thought.
Because what if this whole thing is a mistake? What if I'm just some weird side project to him, an accident that never should've happened?
Eli looks at me. For the first time, it's not the playful gaze from last night. Not the charming eyes that made my stomach do flips. It's… hesitation.
His gaze flickers between Olivia and me.
"You're right," he says, voice low. "We have unfinished business."
Boom. The air leaves the room.
I feel like I've just been hit by a truck. And not a romantic, funny kind of truck either.
This is the moment. The tipping point.
Eli might have just gone back to her.
---
Before I can say anything else, Olivia leans back and smirks, probably savoring her moment of triumph. "You're both adorable," she says, almost too sweetly. "But here's the thing. I'm not going to lose him again."
And just like that, she's gone.
Leaving me standing there, staring at Eli, who's now as uncertain as I've ever seen him.
Yep.
Because next chapter? It's time for me to make a move—and not the "I can pretend everything's fine" kind.
It's time to figure out if I'm the one who's willing to lose everything.
Or if I'm walking away from this whole damn thing.