Page 61 of I See Red

Olive looks at me, annoyed and busted. I just hit the nail on the head, and she knows I know it, and I know she knows I know it. The reality of the stillness in our words is, what will happen next?

Come on, Olive. Do what you do best; be honest.

Walking around my car to hers, visibly upset, her arms sway in annoyance in the air, bags swinging as I chase behind her.“Youknow I fucking hate when you do that, Ivy. Analyze me and know what I’m thinking. Just because you can doesn’t mean you always should. Sometimes, maybe I am allowed to have my own secrets. You ever think of that?Do you ever think for a fuckingsecond that maybe I’m not saying anything because I am trying to protect you? Maybe Liam is trying to protect you? Maybe we are all just trying to live in Ivy’s world and tiptoe around you because what happens when you completely lose it affects us all, and we worry if you will ever return to us, and if you do, in what mental state? Will you manage to put the pieces back together again, or will I simply one day have to mourn my best friend, especially now that Red isn’t here to handle the side of you that you specifically created her for to save you from yourself. But no, you are always so caught up in playing the perfect game to even see how your moves affect everyone. I love you. Liam loves you, but fuck Ivy, you can’t psychoanalyze everything all the time. It’s unhealthy, and quite frankly, it’s wicked annoying. Why can’t you ever see deceit or a lie and just let it go? Why can’t you just accept love instead of always needing to chase it and stop and finally fucking enjoy it?” She demands, screaming at me like never before. My emotions are boiling. Olive has never spoken to me like this before. I’m taken back but also cheering her on at the same time. Having friends who always agree with me or are afraid to ruffle my feathers or hurt my feelings has been one of the most annoying things God ever gave me. I love a woman with a voice and passion, although I can’t tell her that in this moment because whatever this is, it’s big, and I’m not even registering her concerns. I want to know what the fuck she’s not telling me, and I want to know it now. If I have to pry it out of her fucking mouth, I will.

“So, we’re going to act like that tantrum has nothing to do with why you’ve asked me to talk to Tayden multiple times this trip? You want me to just get in my car and go on my merry little way and let it go? You want me to ignore the fact that you basically brought Liam into this secret of whatever it is?” I ask. Olive exhales, looking away with one arm on her door, the other tossing her keys around.

“I don’t know anymore, Ivy. Honestly, I don’t want to say anything, and you just message the fucking man, for fuck sake.”

Olive begins to open the door to get in. I reach out, grabbing it with my hand, forcing it back open. Thunder cracks as rain pours down me, my breaths heavy, my anger building.

“O, you don’t get to do that, not in the slightest. You asked for this lunch, you kept bringing him up, so even if you didn’t want to say anything, a part of you did, and regardless of how fucking hard this has been for you and Liam and T and everyone involved in my fucked up world, imagine what it is like for me in my own head day in and day out, living with this mind of mine that you claim to be so beautiful, the inability to commit to one human, or love them like a Stepford wife because I’m fucked up and a tortured soul. Yeah, my mind may be brilliant in how I work and in my success, but the reality of my thoughts is completely terrifying, holding me prisoner every fucking day of my life. Never allowing me to form normal connections. Preventing me from the reality you have that you take for granted every fucking day, so either you can tell me what is happening, or you don’t, but if you don’t, you leave here today without me forever. I love you, O, and I don’t want to do that, but I mean it with my whole mother-fucking chest. You choose!” I scream at the top of my lungs, my hands shaking, my entire body soaking from the rain as I let go of her door, allowing her the moment to either speak or close it.

Olive turns into her seat, staring out her windshield, snapping her head back toward me. She stares with intent and anger.

“He is getting married, Ivy. I didn’t want to tell you because I knew it would break you, and I do love you so much, and I am so fucking sorry. I wanted you to find out from him, not the tabloids, not friends, not anyone but him. But since it is out now,I was hoping you would reach out to him so he could explain it to you in whatever Tayden/Ivy language it is you two speak.”

I stopped listening after the ‘he’s getting married’ part. My brain just completely shut down, and although I know Olive is still speaking, I hear nothing after those three words. I stand frozen in the rain, hot and cold both raging inside of me, crashing into each other like a chemical explosion is about to happen, and my body will splatter into a million pieces. I can feel her shaking me as I stand thoughtless, tears building, craving to fall, but I resist.

“Ivy!” Olive screams as she vigorously shakes me over and over.

I snap out of it, turning my head to look up at her, a blank stare with no emotion consuming my face. Eerily my gaze on hers in silence, as I turn, tearing my arms from her grip and walk to my car.

“Ivy! Ivy! Ivy!” she yells, chasing after me, my brain ignoring her in a rage-filled race to my car. Getting in, I slam the door behind me. Olive bangs on the window. Water drips down my face as I sit here with my head tilted back against the headrest. I’m that little girl again, and the ceiling is all my focus can handle, as the walls close in. The side of Olive’s fist crashes into my window, my words trapped in my chest. I am not even mentally in this world anymore.Reel it the fuck in, and get out of here. Come on, you can do it. Start the car. Start the fucking car IVY.Leaning forward, I press the ignition button, my head fiercely turning her way. “Move,” I snarl like a possessed human. Olive looks at me, throwing her hands up as she steps away, her long black hair soaking wet, not a dry ounce on her as she watches me back out. I glance back through my rearview mirror and see her not having moved an inch, with both hands on the top of her head in concern and disbelief, the rain crashing all around her. Driving at a speed unsafe for anyone, the downpourbegins turning the snow to slush, making my speed even that much more dangerous.Do it. Fucking do it. Ram the fucking tree. It would be considered an accident, an easy way-out, Ives. Fucking do it; you know you want to. End this all, end this fucking madness. No, don’t. You can fix this,don’t you dare fucking break before you get home. Focus on the road, not the trees. Think about it, calm your breaths. In through your nose, out through your mouth. Make it home. You have no home, you poor pathetic girl. Don’t let Liam see you like this. Keep it the fuck together. Then, you break safely at home, not in the forest, harming all you leave behind. You’d be doing them a favor, freeing them of your chaos, do it.

“Shut the fuck up,” I rage.

The rain is turning the roads so dangerous almost as fast as the news Olive just shared. A fucking bomb is ticking in my head. The countdown has commenced, and sanity is running thin. Gripping the steering wheel with both hands, my knuckles as white as the snow. My eyes run a race between the road and the rearview, my self-image spiraling me further from reality. I fucking hate how weak I am. She’s a despicable sight.

What the fuck is wrong with you? You are worthless; you knew this would happen. You were never going to be what he sought out in life, in a partner. Outside of that little ring box and sex, you’re just a sad little girl still holding on to what could have been all these years and never facing your true reality of who you are, what has become of you, all that’s left of you, a pile of wreckage. Boo fucking hoo, Ivy didn’t get Tayden. Dumb bitch, you never even deserved him. Deep down, you’ve always known. It’s why, all these years, you never told him how you felt. You can’t be mad. You have zero right.

Viciously, my head begins convulsing, trying to extract the thoughts from my mind. I know they aren’t wrong. It’s true, all these years, and I never actually came out and told Tayden Iwanted a real life with him. So many missed opportunities to confess what he meant to me, what he is to me, and had been throughout my life even when he wasn’t a part of it. Instead, always going along with his thoughts on the matter, not that I didn’t agree, but fuck, marriage? This changes everything because knowing Tayden, this is it. He doesn’t make irrational decisions. Once he gives himself to her in marriage, to anyone, it’s a promise he’ll never turn his back on.

This is a completely thought-out idea and a perfectly orchestrated plan. Probably one forced by my own words, my own exit.

You pushed him into this the night at the studio.

His decisions are rarely based on his own emotional needs andalwayson those around him, but that’s what makes this even bigger. Knowing myself means knowing this is forever for him. He will never leave her, he will never divorce her, and they will be married for life. I find a sliver of comfort in knowing he made this decision based on his family, his child, and his desire to be normal himself and have a wife in hopes that one day he will change. That he will be faithful and not need to tug the strings of all the women he indulges when he needs reassurance of himself. Because this proposal, I am certain, was based on those facts. He will never break his promise because although he is weak in his desires, in his thought process, he is not. His word means everything once it is announced to the world, not hidden behind closed doors. Image is everything.

Pulling into the driveway, I notice Liam isn’t outside anymore. I know I need to keep it together. However, Liam will read right through me no matter what I am like when I walk through those doors. He has such a knack for spotting my meltdowns, and when something is wrong, he always knows. Luckily, past record has proven he allows me space and isn’toverbearing, which I love, but fuck, sometimes I wish he would just hold me as I physically melt into his arms, but he won’t. I have trained him since the beginning that I don’t need anyone. Getting out of my vehicle, I close the door, quickly racing to the house as the rain falls around me; my boots slosh through the snow, my heart cracking deeper with each step.Please don’t be in the kitchen when I walk through the door. Opening the front door, I take a look around seeing no sign of him, a sigh of relief comes over me, I feel the tears starting to build, the meltdown inevitable. I fight the urge, setting my things on the counter, craving my safe place, my world away from the world—my study. My buzz is wearing off, and I need to chase its high. Making my way across the kitchen, I head for the basement door. Cautious in my movements in hopes I don’t run into Liam heading to the wine cellar, but fuck, I need a bottle; no, I need ten. Alcohol doesn’t fix things, but at this very moment, I’m convinced it’s the only thing that can fix this. With each step, I try to maintain a light foot so if he is down here, he won’t hear my footfalls as I tiptoe to my drowning. My breaths grow louder and my movements steadier. Ugh, to be a superhero with invisibility. If there was a time, now is it. Turning the corner, I look like a damn flamingo awkwardly stepping down the hall, part flamingo, part Grinch.

“That’s it, I’m not going.” I cover my mouth quickly, realizing I just said it aloud.

You dumbass, really?

“Ivy” echoes from behind me, my body freezing in place like I’m five and I just got caught trying to steal cookies out of the damn cookie jar. Turning my head slowly, I meet Liam’s gaze. He quirks his head to the side, raising his left brow, curious and uncertain of what the actual fuck I am doing.Nothing to see here, my guy. It’s all copacetic.

“Liam, um, I uhh, yes?” Jesus Christ, this is embarrassing. I’m embarrassing. Twenty-nine years old, and I’m sneaking to my wine cellar.There’s your sign. Shut up, no you shut up. He’s talking dingbat.

“What are you doing? Why are you sneaking around like you don’t live here?”

I, um, I… fucking speak, Ivy. Say something, anything.

“You know, that’s agreatquestion.”

“One you have yet to answer Ivy.”

I don’t say anything. I just look at him, and I can tell by the look on his face, taking in the look on mine and my lack of words; he knows exactly what I am doing, like I have so many times before. In all of my recklessness, one thing has remained true. If I am nothing, I am a creature of habit in my chaos. The words finally form.

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