Olive,
You are strong.
You are beautiful.
You are important.
You are loved.
You are unique.
You are a gift.
My eyes well with tears as I read the words over and over again. Deciding I like the mantra, I tuck his note in the back pocket of my jeans.
Hunter saw deeply into my soul. He knew that I loved him back, and he called me out on it during our last night together. There hasn’t been an hour that’s gone by since we said goodbye that I haven't thought of him. I begged him that night, after we slept together, to end it there. I told him I would be leaving in a few days, and I couldn’t handle seeing him anymore. That it would put salt in the wound to say goodbye to each other another time after that magical night. I told him that we needed to end contact completely, let the time together be what it was, and that he needed to move on with his life without me.
Hunter honored my wishes and hasn’t reached out to me again. The sadness in his eyes as he listened to me and agreed, even though I could tell he didn’t want to, just shows how good of a guy he is. I never deserved his love, not for a minute.
Whiskey Jane’s has been sitting vacant since I quit. Sonjia called two weeks ago to inform me. After I left, it caused a snowball effect and Rob walked out, then our regulars stopped showing up, too. Without us, Tripp was unable to run the placealone, but he didn’t seem to care either way, so he closed the bar. I’m sure he hasn’t lost an ounce of sleep since he shut off the lights for good. Jane and Seymour would be devastated. I feel ashamed of myself for letting them down, but push the thought away.
My phone rings in my pocket, and I pull it out. Seeing Missy’s name on the caller ID, I answer.
“Hey, Missy.”
“Olive, turn on the newsnow,” Missy commands from the other side of the call. “Channel 24.”
“Um, what?” I laugh.
“Do it!” she shouts.
“Okay, one sec.” I walk out to my living room, which is packed with boxes, and shuffle around for the remote control. When I find it under a couch pillow, I click it on as Missy says, “Hurry, hurry.”
I punch in the channel number. “Okay—” I start to chuckle but end up speechless when I see what’s on the screen.
Tripp’s face is there, with anarrestedbanner running across the top of the screen. I click the volume up to listen to the male news anchor.
“Local man Tripp Fern is under arrest after allegedly stealing money from clients in business dealings in New York. A viral YouTube video helped police discover his whereabouts when they found out that the bar where it was filmed belonged to his parents before their passing. He was arrested this morning outside of the bar, Whiskey Jane’s, and he has been charged with eight counts of investment fraud and two counts of fleeing law enforcement. He is also being charged with four counts of fraud for allegedly forging documents stating he owned his lateparents’ business. He is currently being held at the Clairesville Detention Center. Bail and hearing details are unknown.”
The next news story starts to play and I silence the TV. My hand holding my phone begins to shake. “Holy shit.”
Missy says quietly—for once—on the other line, “He faked the deed to the bar, Olive. Jane never signed the business over to him. He doesn’t own it.”
I have no words to respond, and my legs give out from under me at the news.
Chapter 53
Hunter
Ihave tried to stay as busy as possible since the night I last saw Olive. I’ve buried myself in work and left town twice to film for brands. No matter how much I have busied myself, though, the emptiness still consumes me. I know in my heart that Olive is the only woman for me. My parentsjust knewabout each other and that’s exactly how I feel about her. But while she may love me as much as I love her, she doesn’t want to be with me, so I just have to accept that.
I look at the time and motivate myself to get up from the couch and throw on a snapback. I was supposed to meet Wes at the skate park twenty minutes ago. Shit. I shoot him a quick text that I’m on my way, knowing he probably won't read it, but just in case. He always keeps his phone in his car while he skates so he doesn’t fall on it and break it.
I head out my front door and jog to my truck. Once I’m seated, I scroll through my playlist and click the song that Olive and I listened to together lying in the bed of my truck, our hands entwined, after we had sex. “Nights in White Satin” by The Moody Blues plays through my speakers, and I’m transported back to the moment. Her smooth skin brushing against my own.Our limbs twisted together like a puzzle. I’ve never felt a moment more intimate or perfect.
I pull up to a stoplight and run my hands over my face. I hope she’s doing okay in Atlanta. There have been so many times recently where I have started to text her and then decided it’s a bad idea. I won’t disrespect the boundary she set. She wants to move on from Clairesville and I understand that.
I pull up to the skate park and see it’s empty other than Wes and one other guy, which I’m thankful for right now, because I would prefer not to be in a crowd. I grab my board out of my passenger seat and walk up the concrete steps to greet Wes. He is skating some ramps on the other side of the park, so I get on my board and skate over to him. He gives me a “sup” motion with his head and continues to ride around. I do the same, my mind clearing as I focus on only two things: the board and my movements on it.
