Page 28 of Wreckage of Us
“Did you come to your senses and realize I am the only man for you?” he teases me in way of a greeting.
“No, you dork,” I laugh. “But apparently, someone did come to their senses and realized you were the only man for them.”
“What?” Oliver sounds as confused as the jumbled mess in my head. “What’s happening?”
“This woman showed up at my door earlier,” I explain. “She warned me to stay away from you…”
Oliver busts out laughing. “What, like in the movies?”
“Exactly like that,” I confirm, laughing with him. It really is such a ridiculous situation.
“Who was it?”
“We didn’t get as far as making introductions, however,” I continue with a shaky voice, “she had pictures of me and you kissing…”
“What?” Oliver is not laughing anymore, for which I am grateful. Good to know he is taking this seriously. “What do you mean she had pictures of us kissing?”
“There were lots, Oliver.” I am almost whining in my distress. “She made a collage of them. And some of them were in front of my front door, some were on my couch in the living room.”
“Jesus Christ,” Oliver echoes my distress. “We only kissed what, twice? How can they have that many pictures?”
“Well, she does,” I inform him, sounding a lot more put together than I feel. “And before showing up here, she was sending me these creepy messages on Insta, scared the shit out of me.”
“God, I’m so sorry, Becca. Are you sure?”
“I really think so,” I confess to him. “Although, when Colt asked her about them, she denied having sent them.”
Oliver takes a deep breath in, and I wait. We’re both unsure of what else to say.
The whistling of my teapot boiling on the stove startles me out of the uncomfortable silence. I jump up and rush to turn the knob off, then make myself busy by grabbing a large coffee mug and dropping a tea bag in it.
“So,” I finally force my voice to take a teasing tone. “Do you have any scorned exes out there? And if you do,” I chuckle nervously, “could you please put out the word that you and I are not a thing?”
“I don’t,” Oliver denies vehemently, but then hesitates. “Unless…”
“Unless what?” I prod him when he doesn’t continue.
“Lori is the only one I can think of, but I can’t imagine that she’d stalk either one of us. That’s just insane, right?” He is begging me to tell him this entire situation is crazy, like I am not right dead smack in the middle of it.
“What does this Lori look like?” I start playing detective.
“Uh, I don’t know…” Oliver hesitates for a second. “Tall, brownish hair, pretty face…”
While his description could literally fit millions of women, it also matches the one who showed up at my door earlier. I have to believe it is her.
“Did she show any signs of being a psychopath while you two were together? Like that she could chop my head off and send it to you in a box?” I inquire gently.
“We weren’t even together for that long,” Oliver bursts into an agitated response. “What the fuck? Your head in a box?”
“Well, that’s what her messages said,” I explain. “From before she showed up at my door.”
“Okay,” Oliver lets out a heavy breath. “That is just insane, and you need to go to the police right away.”
“I…” I have no idea why I am hesitating. Going to the police would make this entire situation more real while I am trying to bury it before it sprouts more… heads.
“Promise me, Becca,” Oliver insists.
A knock at the door saves me from having to commit to his request.
