Olivia's POV
I trudged into my apartment feeling completely lost and emotionally drained, the event of the day feeling heavy on my tender shoulders. During the cab ride home, Gabriel had texted me, asking the very question I'd been dreading all week.
"Liv? You home?" Kira's voice called from the kitchen where she was preparing dinner, but it sounded like it was coming from underwater. Everything felt distant and surreal.
I didn't respond, just headed straight to my bedroom like a zombie. I needed to lie down, needed to process everything, needed to figure out what the hell I was going to do about Saturday night.
Kira followed me, concern written all over her face as she appeared in my doorway.
"Okay, what happened? You look like someone died," she said, leaning against the doorframe. "Did Maxwell torture you extra hard today?"
I collapsed onto my bed face-first, my voice muffled by the pillow. "Gabriel finally popped the question."
