Page 165 of Ink Me Three Times
I sit there, staring at the closed door, as the sound of Jesse’s footsteps fades into the distance. The silence in the room is almost suffocating, pressing in on me from all sides. Pickle, sensing the shift, crawls up onto the couch and rests his head on my lap, but even his comforting presence can’t ease the knot in my chest.
I feel like I’m failing. Failing Jesse. Failing myself. This... all of this... it’s slipping through my fingers, and I can’t seem to grab onto anything solid.
I grab my phone from the coffee table, my fingers trembling slightly as I unlock it and search for Olivia’s contact. She’s always been the one I turn to when I need to talk things out, when the world gets too loud and my head too full. She’s the only person who knows me, really knows me, even when I don’t know myself.
I hit her name and wait, the ringing echoing through the quiet room. After three rings, she picks up.
“Ivy?” Her voice is a familiar balm, but there’s something in the way she says my name that makes my chest tighten all over again. “What’s going on?”
“I…” My voice cracks, and I quickly take a deep breath, trying to steady myself. “Jesse knows. He... he knows everything, Liv. And he’s pissed. He said he needs time. Space. He doesn’t understand.”
Olivia’s voice softens, and I can almost picture her frowning, rubbing a hand over her forehead, already trying to sort through the mess in her own mind.
“I’m sorry, Ivy,” she says, her tone gentle but firm. “I know this is hard. But you can’t expect him to just get it right away.”
“I know,” I mutter, my voice bitter. “But it doesn’t make it hurt any less.”
“You’re his sister, Ivy. This is... it’s big. I mean,huge,” she says with a sigh. “You’re talking about starting something with three men… three! He’s processing that. He’s trying to make sense of it.”
“I’m trying to make sense of it, too,” I snap before I can stop myself. “I didn’t ask for this, Liv. I didn’t ask to have my life turn into a damn soap opera. But here I am.”
She’s quiet for a moment, letting the silence hang between us, and then she says something that cuts through the storm of my thoughts like a blade.
“I know you didn’t ask for it. But you have to give Jesse time. He loves you. He just... needs time to process everything. He’ll come around. He just can’t do it on your timetable. You have to let him breathe, Ivy. And, most importantly, you have to breathe too. You don’t have to fix this all right now.”
I hate that she’s right. I hate that she always has a way of cutting through the noise and giving me the space I don’t want but need. “I just... I need him. I need someone to not look at me like I’m a damn disaster.”
“You’re not a disaster,” she says, her voice steady. “You’re figuring it out. You’re doing the best you can. But you’ve got to stop putting so much pressure on yourself. You’re going to drive yourself crazy if you don’t give yourself a break.”
I lean back against the couch, closing my eyes as I press the phone to my ear. "I don't know how to give myself a break. Everything feels like it's breaking."
“You’re not broken,” Olivia says softly. “You’re just... in the middle of a really hard chapter. And like any chapter, it’s not the whole story. You just need to keep going, one step at a time. And maybe you don’t know where it’s all going yet, but you’re going to figure it out. But you can’t do that if you’re stuck in the guilt and fear of how things might turn out.”
I let out a shaky breath, the weight of her words sinking in. She’s right. As much as it kills me to admit it, I can’t control everything. Not even Jesse. Not even this situation.
“Okay,” I say, my voice quieter now. “I’ll give him time.”
“That’s all you can do,” she replies. “But in the meantime, you focus on what you need. Figure out what you want. And I’ll be here, okay?”
“Thanks, Liv,” I say, my voice breaking slightly. “I really needed to hear that.”
“I know you did,” she says. “You’re not alone in this, Ivy. You never will be.”
I hang up the phone, feeling the weight of her words settle into my chest, and for the first time in a while, I let myself believe them.
Maybe I don’t have it all figured out, and maybe I can’t make everyone see things my way right now.
But I can take things one step at a time.
CHAPTER FORTY-NINE
Mitchell
There’ssomething about the quiet of the shop at dusk.
The low hum of the tattoo machines, the sharp tang of ink, disinfectant, and the deep, soothing scent of cedar oil filling the air. It's familiar. Comfortable. My place. The place where everything is sharp and clean, where I can keep things controlled.
Except tonight.
