one of them. And the only man worse than a bull rider is the man who sells them as decent human beings. Damien did a lot of work with Wyatt in particular when he did ad campaigns and things. And, since you figure jackasses of a feather flock together, and Wyatt used to flock with Damien...”
“Didn’t Dane used to hang out with them, too?” Olivia asked, referring to Lindy’s brother.
“I suppose so,” Lindy said. “I don’t know. Wyatt is just one of those guys. He’s too... A lot of things.”
Olivia could relate to that assessment. That was kind of how she felt about Luke. He was too much. Too many things. How could one man contain so much? Self-assurance, attitude, a smile that seemed to light up the room and everyone in it. But lit up parts of her that made her flush to think about.
That thought stunned her. And for a full second she couldn’t think of anything to say.
“Are you okay?” Lindy pressed her. She wasn’t doing a good job of convincing Lindy that everything was okay. Mostly because she wasn’t entirely sure that it was.
“I have a date tonight,” she said. “With not Bennett.”
Lindy’s face relaxed, one corner of her lips turning upward. “Oh. And that’s hard? Weird?”
She felt guilty, because of course her boss was associating it with her divorce. With moving on after a long-term relationship. And Olivia hadn’t actually moved on. “I guess. I just... It’s not really a date. I want Bennett to see that I’ve moved on. And for him to not like that.”
“Okay,” Lindy said. “Are you sure that’s a good idea?”
“No,” Olivia said, feeling miserable. “I don’t. But I don’t know what else to do. And when he suggested it...”
“When who suggested it?”
“Luke. When I went to talk to Luke last night, he suggested it.”
Lindy’s eyebrows shot upward. “I see.”
“Do you? Can you help me figure out if I’m crazy or not?”
“You might be,” Lindy said. “But I hear love does that to you.”
The dining room was empty, no customers in sight, so Olivia slumped at the nearest bistro table, propping her chin up on her elbows. “Were you miserable after your divorce?”
Lindy sighed and walked around to the other side of the table. She sat down, putting her hand over Olivia’s. “I was a lot more miserable leading up to it. It’s hard to find out that someone you love isn’t who you thought they were. Or I guess that someone you love is exactly who you were afraid they might be, but you ignored all the signs.”
“Bennett is who I think he is. He’s a good man. I was impatient. I broke up with him because I wanted to have him make a commitment. And now...”
“You regret it.”
“Yes.”
“Olivia, I’m not an expert on love. Obviously. I think everyone knew that my husband was a bad bet. Everyone except me. But what I can tell you about loving someone is that it doesn’t make sense. And sometimes you do the wrong thing hoping that the right thing will come out of it. And sometimes you hurt each other even when you don’t mean to. Because loving someone is scary. So, sometimes you act scared.”
“Bennett is acting scared,” Olivia said.
She wasn’t scared. Commitment didn’t scare her at all. It was what she wanted. It was that end goal. That bright, shining beacon she had been working toward for so many years. She would have that life, that perfect life. A little house all her own, a husband. It was what she had always wanted. There was nothing to be scared of when it came to marriage as far as she was concerned. Her parents had a wonderful marriage. She aspired to that. To that good life that they led.
To being that kind of person.
Scary was the unknown. Scary was having your future tossed high up into the air. It was having no plan. Being aimless. It was how Vanessa lived her entire life, as far as Olivia could see. Her twin sister, the person she had been closest to from birth, was a virtual stranger now.
Her partying, her drug use, had taken everything from them that they used to share. Even their looks. Nobody would think they were sisters now, much less identical twins.
Her sister was so thin. Wasted down to nothing, her skin ravaged, her eyes dull, her hair lank.
That was where aimlessness got you. It was where living for the moment got you. And Olivia had never been that person. No, plans didn’t scare her. Permanence didn’t scare her. It was all those other things in between.
“Well,” Lindy said, “men get gun-shy when commitment is on the table.”
“I’m not scared of getting married. Or having a relationship.”
“But apparently you’re scared of having an honest conversation with the man that you claim you’re ready to marry?”
Olivia placed her hand on her chest, where it felt like Lindy’s words had literally stuck into her like a sword. “I just... I have some pride. I’m not going to beg him. I need him to try and get a better understanding of his feelings. Through... Seeing what his life might be like without me. I want him to understand that he needs me by saying that maybe I don’t need him.”
“But don’t you need him?”
Olivia frowned. “Yes. But I have to have some pride.”
“Okay. So, your version of having pride is trying to trick the man that you say you’re in love with, by pretending to date a different man, so that he’ll feel bad and ask you to marry him?”
Olivia did not like this line of conversation at all. Because when Lindy said it like that, it just sounded sad. And it didn’t sound at all like it did when she thought about it. When it came from inside of her it all seemed logical. Repeated back at her it sounded manipulative and that wasn’t what she felt.
“I’m just saying,” Lindy said. “At a certain point in your relationship you’re going to have been together for a long time. That’s what marriage is. It’s forever. It’s supposed to be. And you’re going to reach a point there where you realize you didn’t practice telling each other the truth. You didn’t practice sharing what was in your heart, what you were feeling, what you had for breakfast. And you’re going to realize that you live with a stranger. And so does he.”
“I don’t think you can compare what happened with you and Damien to me and Bennett,” Olivia said. “And I don’t think it’s fair for you to try and take blame for anything. For you to say that he didn’t know you as if somehow you could have told him what kind of cereal you had that day and he wouldn’t have cheated on you.”
“That’s the thing,” Lindy said. “He did the wrong thing. And he took us to a place where for me... We couldn’t come back from it. But he didn’t take us there by himself. He didn’t get started on the road on his own. As much as it pains me to say it, our divorce isn’t only his fault.”
“I don’t understand
