She rolls her eyes. “Because I’m not your mother. But I do have an idea, and you can decide.”
“Hit me.”
“He invited you to that party tomorrow, right?”
I wave a hand. “Yeah, it’s at his parents’ house.”
“So go.”
“Are you serious? That’s insane.”
“It’s not.” She’s got her game face on. “You know he’s going to be there. If you decide that you can forgive him, you can talk to him and show him that you can handle being with the type of crowd that his family hangs out with. If you want revenge, you can tell everyone at the party what he did.”
That thought makes me sick to my stomach. “That would be like pulling a prom night on him. I don’t think I could do that.”
“Well, then maybe you going can give him the opportunity to get out from under Sasha, even if you guys don’t end up together.”
“I don’t know.”
Lor grins. “I’ll crash with you. I’ve still got some great dresses for us. Backups from the reunion.”
I look at her. “You’re not going to stop until I say I’m going to go, are you?”
“Nope.”
“Fine.”
She’s right. This is a good solution for now. All I have to do is figure out what I want to do before tomorrow night.
24
Ollie
“This is a stupid idea.”
Lor laughs. “This is a brilliant idea and we look fabulous.”
No matter if Lor has worked her magic—and she has by putting me in an emerald green dress that women would kill for—it’s still a stupid idea. I’m more nervous about this than I was about walking into the reunion. I suppose that’s because there was a chance of being tortured at the reunion, and when I walk into this party, there’s an almost absolute chance of some kind of scene.
Adam had already given me the address to his parents’ sprawling brownstone on the Upper East Side, and now I’m standing outside hyperventilating. Lorraine grabs my arm. “We can’t just stand outside in these clothes. We need to go in. It will be fine. Breathe.”
We go up the steps together and the door opens. The butler doesn’t ask to see an invitation, this isn’t that kind of party. Thanks to Lor’s brilliant work, our clothes are all the invitation we need. “I’ll be at the bar, waiting. If you need a drink, come find me.”
“I will definitely need a drink,” I mutter under my breath, but she’s already gone.
My plan is to find Adam first. I want to hear it from him again that it’s not true, that Sasha isn’t pregnant and that they’re not together. I want him to look me in the eyes and tell me the truth, again. Then we can talk about dealing with Sasha. I move as quickly as I can through the rooms—I need to find him quickly before someone realizes that I’m really not supposed to be here.
I make it once around the party and am starting my second circuit when I hear a voice to my right. Loud, brassy, and completely recognizable. “What the hell are you doing here?”
Sasha.
I turn, and give her the least antagonizing smile I can. “I need to speak to Adam. Have you seen him?”
“Of course I have,” she says loudly, drawing the eyes of those around us. “He’s my boyfriend. And the father of my child. I’m not going to tell you where he is, you stalker.”
I jerk back. “What?”
“You’ve been stalking him for ten years. You wanted him in high school, and ever since that reunion you’ve been following him everywhere. To his job, even to his family’s house on the island. It’s sad, Olivia. You need to stop. You’re dangerous, and you disgust me.”
I close my eyes, fighting flashbacks of Sasha playing the victim at prom and everyone chanting cheater. I keep my voice calm and level—there’s no way getting upset is going to help me in this situation. “Sasha, I’m not stalking Adam, he invited me. I just need to speak with him for five minutes, and I’ll be on my way.”
People are staring now, some starting to move in, drawn to the conflict like a flame. I flex my hands, trying to calm my nerves. Where is Adam?
Sasha looks around and sees the people that are watching us. Suddenly, she flinches away from me, taking several large steps back, cradling her stomach protectively. “You stay away from me, Olivia! Please, don’t hurt me or my baby. You need help, and we’ll get you some. We know you used to hurt yourself and that you’re upset but please don’t hurt me!”
My jaw drops. “What on earth are you talking about? Why would I ever want to hurt you?”
Suddenly Adam and his father appear in the doorway. Adam’s face is a journey of emotion: shock and hope and pain and what I hope is relief. His father is the opposite, a face of mask of fury. He storms across the floor and pulls Sasha further away from me. “For the sake of the baby, Sasha, stay away from that woman.”
I still don’t understand what’s happening, “What? I don’t—”
He cuts me off. “I won’t have my grandchild around someone with a history of violence and attempted suicide.”
Blood rushes to my face, and Adam is suddenly by my side. I don’t understand. I’ve never hurt anyone. Never tried to kill myself. I’ve never even thought about killing myself. And if I had, I don’t think treating me like this would be the answer.
His father continues. “Don’t deny it. It’s well known that you went off the deep end ten years ago. Became so depressed you attacked your friends and then slit your wrists.”
My wrists. At the reunion. I look at Adam. “Is that why you were looking at my wrists? You thought I tried to kill myself?”
“I’d heard the rumor,” he says softly.
I fight the tears making their way to my eyes. “So you were checking to see if I’d gone crazy?”
“Never,” he says. The truth in that word runs bone deep. “I wasn’t trying to judge you, or avoid you. I wanted to make sure you were okay.”
I look across the room, and no one is looking at Sasha. But she’s looking at me, and there’s a tiny, vindictive smile on her face. It clicks. She’s the one that started the rumor. She knew that Adam hadn’t been turned against me by her stunt at prom and she needed a way to make sure he didn’t come after me. It’s truly ironic that she’s calling me a stalker—she’s been after Adam for ten years.
“Adam,” his father says, voice thundering. “We’ve spoken about this. You need to take care of Sasha and the baby. Not spend your time catering to a suicidal whore,” he spits.
I feel like I’ve been stabbed in the gut, and Adam steps in front of me. “There is NO BABY!” His voice echoes through the house and the entire party goes so silent you can hear the traffic outside. “There never was.” He points at Sasha. “She made it up. In fact, the whole thing was made up. You’re the one who pushed us together in the first place to make a good impression on Dr. Pratt, and somewhere along the way you forgot that it wasn’t real.”
His father starts to bluster, but Adam doesn’t let him speak. “Make her take a pregnancy test right now. We’ve never slept together. She is not pregnant. We are not a couple. She made up the baby as a way to blackmail me into staying in this fake relationship, and I’m done.” He looks at Sasha. “We’re done. Try to ruin me or not, I don’t care, I can’t do this. And yes, it’s my fault that we lied for so long. I got too deep, and I was stupid for not coming clean sooner. But I need to be honest now.”