Olivia wrinkles her nose at Kali and sips her wine. “Don’t make me take my patronage somewhere else where the staff is more supportive of my sports skills.”
Kali holds up a finger. “First, darts? Not a sport. Second, if you can find another bar open in the off season that serves wine as good as mine, have at it.”
“That’s true,” I say, tilting my head at Kali. “Frenchman Bay’s not exactly a mecca of nightlife during the winter.”
“We should all go to Portland,” Olivia says, leaning forward excitedly.
“Yes!” Kali says, at the same time I say, “No fucking way.”
Both girls turn to glare at me. “Why not?”
“First of all, have you ever been to Portland?” I ask Olivia. “It’s not exactly the Village.”
Kali rolls her eyes. “Quit making it sound like a one-horse town. I’m not suggesting there will be any celebrity sightings, but there are a couple of great wine bars, and restaurants that serve something other than onion rings.”
“No.” My voice is a little sharper than I intend, and I don’t miss the way the two girls exchange a what-the-fuck glance.
Do they not get it? Patronizing Frenchy’s is one thing. The people here know my story; they know what to expect. This place is like 99 percent regulars, which means they all got a good look at my face that first night. Except for the occasional drunk gawker, I don’t get a second look when I come in anymore.
But leaving Bar Harbor? I’d be all but begging for people to point and stare. I’d be openly inviting questions and pity and disgust.
Worse than that, people will wonder what the hell someone like Olivia is doing with someone like me. She’s gorgeous and dazzling. I’m disfigured at best, monstrous at worst. Just because I’m finally at peace with myself doesn’t mean that everyone else will be.
The last thing I need right now is Olivia getting a dose of what real life would be like with someone like me. Things are going too well right now.
I can’t risk it. I won’t.
And deep down, I know that once she figures out that the rest of the world won’t be quite so accepting of her pet Frankenstein’s monster, she’ll want more. She thinks she cares about me, and I know that she does. But eventually she’ll care about a normal life more. She’ll want spontaneous trips to Vegas, winter cruises, and anniversary dinners. I can’t give her any of that.
Olivia’s future is glamorous Hamptons parties and pretty boys in suits. Mine is solitude and hole-in-the-wall bars like Frenchy’s.
Kali distracts me from my ruminations with an annoyed yelp and goes dashing back to the bar, where her newbie bartender in training is sloppily mopping up beer that’s all over the place.
Olivia turns toward me, her smile easy and adoring, the way it’s been every day this week. She pulls me in for a playful kiss, and I let her. And then I deepen the kiss, a little bit out of want and a lot out of desperation. I know she’ll leave eventually, and I’ll do anything in my power to slow down that process.
Because once she’s gone I’ll be worse off than before.
I won’t just be damaged.
I’ll be hollow.
Chapter Thirty-Three
Olivia
You know that point in every relationship where things are going really, really well, and you start to have the dangerous thought that nothing could ever go wrong, which pretty much guarantees that something will go horribly wrong, very, very soon? Yeah. That.