Angel Falling (Falling #1)(72)
“Pen, I can’t see you do this to yourself anymore. You went from comatose to an evil bitch. Do you realize you’ve fired three people since the shit hit the fan with Ha—?”
“Don’t! Don’t even f*cking mention his name.” I breathed deep, in through my nose, out through my mouth counting to ten.
“I’m worried about you. I’ve never seen you like this. The front room looks like a f*cking memorial with all the flowers Hank has sent. You spent a week in bed, then the last two weeks you’ve been a tyrant. I don’t like who you’ve become.”
“Then why don’t you just leave!” My tone scared me. I’d never had so much as a fight with Oliver in our eight-year friendship.
“You don’t mean that.”
“Maybe I do.” Tears welled in my eyes.
“Well it’s a good thing for you that I don’t give a shit what you say right now. You’re not in your right mind. You’re sick. And the only thing that will make you better is tall, tanned, and can ride a horse and you,” he pointed an arrogant finger and dropped it on my nose in a playful stab, “into next week!”
A full-bellied laugh bubbled to the surface, pushing through all the sorrow and heartache. God, I loved Oliver. He knew me sometimes better than I knew myself. If only love were so easy; I’d be rich in more ways than one.
“He cheated and he’s meant to be with his first love.” The tears ran down my face. “We’re just too different. Our lifestyles can’t work. Don’t you see that?” I tried to make him see what was so clear to me.
He didn’t buy it.
“The only thing I see is a heartbroken woman who I love more than anything. And that woman loves a cowboy from Texas, who loves her in return. Please, just give him a chance. He hasn’t given up on you. He’s sent flowers and notes every day. He’s back at the jobsite and well … I’ve uh … ” Oh no, this was not good. If quick-talking Ollie was stuttering, he’d done something. Something I wouldn’t like.
“Spit it out. What the hell did you do?”
He actually had the self-respect to look openly guilty. “I’ve talked to him. I, uh, I’ve talked to him pretty much every day for the last two weeks. But—”
“You traitor! You’re Judas!” I screamed and threw myself out of the bed. It was Saturday, but I was going to get ready and get the heck out of here. Maybe I’d go to work. There was always something that needed to be done there.
“Princess, I didn’t, that’s not fair!” Ollie stamped his foot like a five-year-old in trouble. “I admit it. I talked to him, but I gave him a ration of shit so deep his eyes turned espresso, I promise! I just think you need to hear him out. You’re miserable and need to—”
“Don’t tell me what I need, Ollie! I’m tired of everyone telling me what they think I need. I know exactly what you did. You talked about me behind my back. You let him in. I’m so pissed at you!”
“You’re being unreasonable. It’s been three weeks. I’m tired of seeing you curled up in bed completely broken, or running a marathon in the gym here until you drop. Or the other fun alternative of working yourself to the bone. It’s not healthy, and I won’t stand for it anymore!”
“Well, you can just go f*ck yourself! Why don’t you go spend your weekend with Dean and leave me and my life alone for one goddamned minute?” My voice was shrill. He ricocheted back as if I’d struck him, pain and hurt clearly visible on his pointed wrinkle-free face.
“Fine. I’ll go. Enjoy your pity party for one … bitch!” He ran out of my bedroom and I threw the pillows off the bed onto the floor, ripping at the bed sheets to try and straighten them. It was no use. I couldn’t make a bed for shit.
Even my own lack of domesticity proved how wrong I was for Hank. Just like the little Country Cunt said. He needed someone who could take care of him and the house. Cook his meals. I had Gustav. I continued to throw things around the room, muttering to myself.
Why did everyone think they knew what was best for me? Besides the droves of flowers Hank sent every day, I’d also gotten cards and letters. I didn’t open any of them. They sat in a neat little pile on my nightstand. He was trying hard to breach the wall I’d put up, but going to Ollie and securing his vote was beyond reproach. I couldn’t believe my best friend had taken his side.
Needing a man, any man—including Ollie—was going the way of the wind. It was time to take charge of my life. Oh who the hell was I kidding? Without Ollie, without Hank I was a shriveled up old hag. There was no joy without them. But was it possible that everything that happened with Hank could be mended? Did I even whisper a hope? No, no way. He’d break my barely glued together heart all over again. I had to be strong. Men though beautiful and necessary sexually, were not necessary to live my life. It would be okay.
I dialed my sister. London answered on the first ring. “Pen, what’s up?”
“Are you with a client?”
“No, no. I was just hanging out with Tripp, actually. Are you okay?”
I considered lying, telling her everything was rainbows and unicorns, but my fight with Ollie broke the seal on my emotions and I needed her. “No,” I whispered holding back the storm of tears wanting to break free.