Mr. Wrong Number(78)

Dear Olivia,


I did the unthinkable—I fell for two women.

One was charming, witty, and smart, and the other was beautiful, passionate, and more fun than anyone I’ve ever known. I could’ve spent a lifetime talking to each of them, listening to their wildly entertaining takes on the world and getting lost in their contagious laughter. I’ve never felt as alive as when I was with them, and I can’t stop dreaming about wild green eyes and tiny freckles. Dogs and elevators and pepperoni casserole.

They turned out to be the same woman, so there’s no doubt that she’s the one for me, but I think I ruined everything by being a coward. Do you have any advice as to how I can convince her—this wonder woman who can repair a broken heel with six pieces of bubble gum—to give me another chance?

I’d do anything for another shot because I’m crazy about her.

—Robot Brain, Omaha, NE





Olivia


“It’s for sure him.” I took a big gulp from my glass of wine and still couldn’t believe it. I’d read and reread that submission all afternoon, obsessed since the minute it had hit my inbox. I ticked the items off on my fingers. “They’re the same woman, dogs, pepperoni casserole, elevators—that’s totally us! And I actually called him a robot brain once, so it has to be from him.”

Sara and her husband, Trae, sitting across from me on their patio with their adorable baby as the firepit blazed between us, had stopped contributing to my conversation altogether and just watched me as I repeated the same things over and over again. Broken heel with bubble gum. Dogs. Pepperoni casserole. Elevators.

But I just couldn’t believe it was from him.

When did he learn to write like that?

It made me cry for an hour, because I still missed him so much it cramped my stomach.

I said, “Am I drunk to consider talking to him?”

“You must be drunk for sure,” Sara said and reached for the bottle. “Don’t call that asshole.”

Trae patted the baby’s back and said, “But you’ll always wonder if you should’ve talked to him if you don’t.”

“Huh?”

“I’m sorry, what?” Sara gave him a withering look that spoke volumes.

“It’s only been a month, and you’re second-guessing whether or not you should talk to him. As time goes on, you’ll wonder more and more why you didn’t just hear him out.”

“Hmmm.” He had a point.

He stood and grabbed the pacifier from the end table. “It can’t hurt.”

I ran my hand through my hair and thought about it. “It could hurt my heart, though.”

“It’s already hurting, honey,” he said, bouncing that sweet little baby. “Just call the guy.”

Well, shit. I looked at Sara, who rolled her eyes and said, “He’s probably right.”

I went into my contacts, unblocked Colin, and started typing.


Me: Are you robot brain?



I didn’t expect him to respond immediately, but he did. Yes.

I sighed and texted: I’m sure it won’t change anything, but if you still want to talk I’ll meet you at Corbyn Coffee at 8am tomorrow.

I’d barely sent it when he responded.


I’ll be there.



I looked at Sara and Trae and my mouth fell open. “Oh, my God. He’s meeting me tomorrow morning.”

Sara let me borrow a cute fall dress before I left, and made me promise to call her the second I was done. I didn’t get much sleep that night, because I was absolutely torn on what to expect. And what I wanted. Half of me was envisioning him begging for my forgiveness and me accepting. That half imagined a day of worshipful sex, followed by his confession of undying love and our happily ever after.

But the other half of me was realistic. I imagined forgiving him, only to fall back into the precarious position of being wholeheartedly in love with him and in constant fear of it being temporary. I didn’t think I could go back to that now, so I was clueless as to what in the world I was going to do.





21





Olivia


“Hi, can I please get a refill?” I handed my card and cup to the barista and took a deep breath. I’d woken at six, anxious and nervous, so instead of trying to sleep, I’d grabbed my laptop so I could get some work done while I waited.

It was 7:50 a.m.; I still had ten minutes.

Once I got my drink, I went back to the table by the window and tried concentrating on work.

“Olivia?”

I glanced up and—

“Oh, my God! Hi, Nick.” I smiled, but the truth was that I wanted him to disappear. Colin would be there soon, and seeing those two together might make me so pissed and disgusted by their scheming that it’d ruin everything.

“How are you?” He gave me a big smile, and I wondered if he thought it was funny, the way I’d kissed him. Had he laughed about it with Colin?

“Listen, Nick, I know about the whole switcheroo thing. Colin told me.”

“Oh.” He looked shaken. “Um—”

“Don’t worry, I’m not mad.” I gave him what I hoped was a friendly smile. “I totally get why he did it.”