Sammy shook his head and let out a disbelieving laugh. “You sure you want what’s best for me? Or do you want what’s best foryou? Maybe you want a status symbol more than a boyfriend. Something nice and pretty to put up there with your Yale diploma and resume. Maybe, if everything in your life was perfect—including your boyfriend—your mom would finally love you.”
The blood rushed in Olivia’s ears. Pain prickled at her skin even as the embers from her earlier anger grew brighter. “I can’t believe you said that,” she choked out.
It was the most hurtful thing anyone had ever said to her, even taking into account her mother’s insults, because Sammyknewwhat a sore subject Eleanor was. She’d confided in him things she’d never told anyone—her doubts, her insecurities, her secret fear that her mother didn’t love her at all. Not as a daughter, not even as a person. Eleanor probably liked her hairstylist more than she liked Olivia.
Regret flitted through Sammy’s eyes before his face hardened. “Face it, Liv. You say you hate your mother, but she’s screwed you up so much you can’t even see how much you’re like her. You only care about whether something makes you look good or fits neatly into one of your fucking spreadsheets. Everything you’ve ever done has been to gain your mother’s approval, and since I can no longer help you with that, I guess I’m yesterday’s news.” His mouth twisted. “Hey, look on the bright side. You’ll be working in finance. You can date some uptight Wall Street guy like your sister. But that wouldn’t work, would it? You’d still be following in her footsteps. Still second best—”
SLAP! Sammy’s head twisted to the side as Olivia’s palm connected with his cheek.
The air pulsed, deafening in its silence.
Olivia’s chest heaved with suppressed emotion. She curled her hands into fists and tucked them beneath her armpits—whether to prevent herself from slapping him again or to hold herself upright, she didn’t know.
Sammy touched his cheek. She’d slapped him so hard a bright red handprint marred his golden skin. A muscle jumped in his jaw.
He didn’t say a word. He didn’t even look at her as he turned and walked out the door.
It wasn’t until Olivia heard the click of the lock that she allowed herself to sink onto the ground and dissolve into sobs.
Something warm and wet trickled down Olivia’s cheek, jolting her awake before her mind could take her further down the dark halls of her memory—the actual breakup, the run-in with Sammy’s skeezy cousin Edison (who’d been visiting New York at the time), the anger she’d held onto like a lifeboat for years because it was easier than dealing with the hole in her heart.
“Why are you crying?” Sammy’s alarmed voice forced her to open her eyes. “Does something hurt? Do we need to go to the hospital?”
His concern was so at odds with the Sammy from her dream it made her cry harder.
His face paled. “That’s it. We’re taking you to the hospital. I thought you were getting better—”
“No. Iamgetting better. I’m not crying because I’m hurt.” Well, she was, but not in the way he thought. “I’m just emotional. It’s almost that time of month,” she fibbed.
“Oh.” Sammy grimaced. “Define ‘almost.’ Like in the next few hours or next few days? You don’t need me to—” He lowered his voice. “—help you put in a—” Even lower voice. “Tampon,do you?”
Olivia laughed and cringed at the same time. “No!”
“Thank God.” Relief drenched his expression. “I’m fine with puke and poop, but periods are not my forte.”
Men. They were all the same.
“Don’t say the ‘p’ words. They make me want to, you know, puke.”
“But not poop?”
“Stop!” She moaned, her cheeks blazing while he laughed. “Guys aresogross.” Like she needed the reminder that he’d seen her perform just about every bodily function over the past few days. Any sexual attraction he might’ve harbored toward her must’ve died by now.
That was the moment Olivia realized something had her staring at Sammy in such a way that he arched an eyebrow in confusion.
She didn’twanthis sexual attraction toward her to die.
She didn’t want him to leave her side.
She didn’t want him to be set up on dates by his mother and go out with other women.
Because...shewantedhim.His heart, his humor, his loyalty and intelligence—she wanted all of it. Olivia still had feelings for him, and judging by her body’s reaction every time he was near—virus-induced abnormalities aside—they were strong ones.
She gulped.
Oh, poop.