Count Your Lucky Stars (Written in the Stars, #3)(18)

Olivia kept her eyes on the screen. It felt like her heart was going to punch through her rib cage, but hopefully her voice wouldn’t warble. “So, say, Aries and Libra? What kind of aspect do they make? Are they, um, compatible?”

Margot shrugged. Shrugged. Olivia bit off her sigh before it could escape her.

It wasn’t so much that she cared about their astrological compatibility but that she’d hoped the question might serve as a stepping-stone of sorts. That Margot’s reaction might give Olivia a hint at what was going on inside Margot’s head, not just now, but years before. Why everything between them had been so good, brimming with possibility, a whole future ahead of them, until Margot had pushed her away.

All Olivia wanted was a little clarity. She’d call it closure, but something about that word put a terrible taste in her mouth.

“They’re directly opposite to one another, which can bring balance to a relationship since each sign possesses qualities the other lacks. But it’s a bit more complicated than that. Everyone thinks of sun-sun compatibility, but that’s a tiny, tiny piece of the puzzle. There’s sun-moon, moon-moon, Venus-Mars, moon-Venus—it all depends on what you’re looking for. Good communication, similar values, interests. The seventh house is where we tend to look for information on partnerships like marriage, but the fifth house is about passion—not just sex, but that, too—and the eighth house rules sex as well, but in a transformational, even transactional sense? There’s a lot to look at.” Margot pursed her lips. “But compatibility isn’t my area of expertise.” She cringed. “Astrological compatibility isn’t my area of expertise.”

Olivia crept even closer to the edge of the couch until her knee gently butted up against Margot’s right arm. “You explained it really well.”

Margot turned her head, and, without makeup on, Olivia could make out the tiny spray of freckles on the bridge of her nose. The left corner of her mouth rose in a half-hearted smile. “Thanks.” She lowered the screen on her laptop before setting it on the coffee table. “All right. Roommate logistics.”

“Right.” Olivia nodded. “I made a list.”

Margot’s brows rose. “You made a list?”

“Just to organize my thoughts. I didn’t want to forget anything.” Olivia smoothed the edges of the paper against her bare thigh. “I haven’t had a roommate since freshman year of college—I lived with Brad, but that was different—so this is all kind of new.”

Margot folded her arms atop her knees. “Feel free to tell me to fuck off, but can I ask you a personal question?”

Something about the way she’d phrased that, straddling the line between bluntness and propriety, made Olivia laugh. It was so perfectly Margot. “I think we passed personal a while ago, don’t you?”

It was only after the words were out that she realized how Margot might take them. Olivia had only meant with the whole plucking Margot’s vibrator up off the floor after her cat had tried to maul it thing. Not I know what face you make when you come personal. But that, too.

Margot’s tongue swept against her bottom lip. “You and Brad wanted different things. What does that mean?”

Olivia dragged her eyes from Margot’s mouth before she got caught staring. “It’s kind of a long story.”

Margot’s expression shuttered. “If you don’t want to talk about it—”

“No, that’s not it.” She didn’t relish talking about it, no, but more than that she didn’t know where to start. It was a mess. A drama-filled mess. “Long story short, Brad wanted a baby and I didn’t.”

Children had never been and would never be what she wanted, and she’d told Brad that from day one, but then she’d turned twenty-six and he’d started dropping hints. He’d called them jokes at first, and she’d rolled her eyes and laughed—her mistake. But it kept happening. And then one day Brad had asked her point-blank when they were going to start a family. The saddest part was that all along, she’d been under the impression they already were a family.

Margot frowned. “You never wanted kids.”

“He thought I would change my mind, I guess.”

Olivia had budged on practically everything else; Brad had assumed this—a baby—would be the same.

“Brad thought you would change your mind.” Margot’s eyes narrowed. “Or he thought he could change it for you?”

Olivia forced a laugh past the lump in her throat. “Am I really that transparent?”

She’d always admired Margot’s quiet confidence, how Margot knew what she wanted and she didn’t let anyone stop her from going after it. How easily she could tune out other people’s opinions of her or her dreams. Olivia wasn’t built that way, wasn’t brave like Margot was, didn’t know how to live by do what you love and fuck the rest. It took Olivia forever to make decisions, and she cared too much about what people thought. It wasn’t anything for her to be proud of, but she’d never felt quite so ashamed of it as she did now, Margot looking at her like she felt sorry for her.

“I guess I just know you.” Margot rested her head against the back of the couch. “Or I did.”

Did. Olivia hated that, that the entirety of their friendship existed in the past tense. Back when they were in school, she never would have imagined the possibility that a week would go by without her speaking to Margot, let alone years. But of course she wouldn’t have. No one ever dreams of their problems when they think about the future.