Chapter 15

OLIVIA'S POV

I must have stayed still for a long time next to the door through which he had left, with his words repeating themselves in my mind, running ceaselessly like a stuck record that he had left behind with me. He had behaved in such a cold, dismissive manner—and it hurt.

More than that was the realization that no matter what I did, nothing would really change in our relationship; he did not want me, did not care about me, and I could not do anything to make him.

Well, that's all fine and good, wallowing in self-pity for but so long before reality kinda seeps in, like some moldy weight onto my chest, except in place of myself it was self-pity.

Why would I bother wasting my time being miserable over somebody who, at this point at least, had pretty clearly given the impression that he didn't want to be with me? This had been my honeymoon as well. This was Paris, ville de l'amour, what I'd dreamed of doing my entire life. If Kellan wanted to stay away and pout in his own misery,