Hunting Cheaters | ✓

6 | Homeless

"Cause I wish that I could break the fall and save it all, but I've been holding it too close. Wish I knew what you're thinking. Words don't come that easy. We might be broken by design. I can't help how I'm feeling. Scared of my own reasons, I don't wanna waste your time"

~ Say (Ready)

OLIVIA

After lunch, which was the best I've ever had, oddly enough, Hunter and I walked around for hours talking about nothing and everything. His childhood memories, the countless relationships I've ruined, our high school mistakes and so on. 

We parted just after the sun went down and I drove home, constantly fighting the urge I had to turn the car around and go back to where I left him. Nonetheless, I refrained well enough to make it home and lock myself inside. 

He called to make sure I got home safely, which led to hours of laughter and jokes and serious talk before we both fell asleep well into the night without ending the call. 

I woke up the next morning with excitement, thinking he would call me. I was excited to talk to him, to see him.

But he never called.

Perhaps he got pulled into work again, was my rational thought. 

But he never called that night, nor the next day nor the following day. 

Eventually, it became clear he was never going to call. 

I spent a week waiting for him. I didn't step foot in a bar, didn't even look at other guys. I didn't even know I was avoiding my notorious hobby until now. And that made my blood boil. I just didn't know who I was angrier at, Hunter for hanging me out to dry or me for blindly following him wherever he led me. 

Turns out I was angrier at myself because I'm supposed to know better. Isn't that the whole point of playing all those cheaters to come clean? I know they're all the same. Why didn't I walk away from the beginning?

A frustrated groan escaped me as I pulled my hair into a mid ponytail. I was getting ready for work, but my concentration was shot. When I couldn't muster the necessary patience to calm my crazy baby hairs, I let out another groan and let them be. I, instead, walked to my desk and put all the documents I'd finished last night into my briefcase. 

Before I could walk out of my bedroom, I caught an actual glimpse of myself in the mirror and froze. I looked like shit, there was no better way to put it. Why, because a man didn't call me? Have I become that stupid? Walking closer to the mirror, I undid my poorly done ponytail and reworked it into a tight low bun, taking the time to sleek my hair, crazy baby hairs and all. I forced myself to put on red lipstick and a bit of mascara. 

As I was about to change my outfit, because it was such a sad mess, my phone rang. My eyebrows furrowed as I walked to my nightstand. 

Hunter's name flashed across the screen and my breath hitched in my throat. I shouldn't answer, especially after this week. Right?

"Hello?" My voice was mellow. I hated it.

"Liv, hey," his voice was velvety and it calmed my nerves. "It's been a while."

That fired me up. "Hmm, too long, don't you think?"

He stopped for a second. "It's only been a week."

"You don't think a week is too long?"

"Olivia, we're not dating," he tried to clarify, "plus, if you thought I was taking too long to call, why didn't you call me yourself? You have my number."