Breaking the Plan: Mill Street Series #1

by Calla, Jessica

  I stood taller and dropped my bag onto the ground. “Okay.”

  He took a deep breath, his brown eyes lasering into mine. “I’m a mess, Tar. I don’t want to hurt Violet or my parents. And I don’t want to hurt you. Tell me what to do.”

  There was no way I was going to tell Oliver how to fix his life. With a scowl, I reached down for my bag. “I’m not your therapist, Oliver. You have to make these decisions on your own.”

  “I’m asking for advice from my…”

  “Your lover? Your friend?” I pulled the bag over my shoulder and started walking again. “What exactly am I to you?”

  From behind me, his voice carried with the fall breeze. “You’re everything.”

  I stopped short and pressed my lips together. “Damn it, Ollie,” I whispered, out of his range. My eyes started to tear.

  He stepped in front of me. “I can transfer after first year.”

  As I processed his words, my pulse quickened and dizziness overcame me. “Wh…what?”

  “If you want me, I can transfer. To California, or wherever you’ll be. I can—”

  “Law school?” I asked, swallowing the ping-pong ball that had lodged in my throat. “You’d do that for me?”

  He nodded. “I need you to tell me that you want me to. That we can work this out.”

  Never in a million years did I think that Oliver would seriously consider giving up his Cambridge- New York-Violet plan for me. For us. Instead of the elation that I probably should have felt, all I felt was panic.

  I didn’t live a life where plans worked out, so I’d stopped making them. I was at NJU to get an education of some sort so that someday I could be self-sufficient, that was all. As far as men went, I’d never had a serious boyfriend because that would have required a plan. A purpose. One night stands were fun because I’d get all the physical pleasure with none of the emotional ties.

  Oliver though, he lived and died by the plan. Now, after three years in the background of my life, he’d come into the foreground and thrown my whole system—my system built to protect myself—out of balance.

  “No.” I said the word on instinct.

  His face dropped. “What?”

  I hated the way his voice shook. I looked at the sky to stop my tears from falling. “I can’t make promises, and I don’t believe in forever. Mostly, I refuse to tell you what to do, Oliver.” A long second passed between us. “Don’t give up your life for me.”

  He rubbed the back of his neck. “Are you saying this because you don’t want me? You’re afraid to hurt my feelings?”

  The brave thing for me to do would have been to tell him that it was the opposite—I did want him, more than anything, but that I was scared. Scared of how he made me feel. Scared that he’d make me follow a plan when I didn’t even know myself yet. Scared of how he twisted up my insides with just one look. Scared that being with him meant losing Violet.

  But I was too chicken to say that, so instead I said, “I’m saying it because I’m not sure you really want me.”

  He started to object, but I held up a hand.

  “A few weeks ago, you were all about your future with Violet. Don’t let our…affair…shake you. You know how you are, right? You look at logic and data. Here, you’re running on emotion, and I’m not going to let you ruin your life—”

  “Being with you would not be ruining my life, Bella. Don’t you see?”

  I shook my head. “You’d have regrets. Questions. You’d get tired of me.”

  “Never—“

  “You would, Oliver.” I met his gaze, challenging him to argue.

  He squinted, looking at me with a mixture of pain and confusion. “So this is it? You’re letting me go for my own good.”

  “I know it sounds ridiculous.”

  “Stop.” His voice quivered and begged as he grabbed my shoulders. “Don’t say anything else.”

  I blinked to keep the tears from dropping, hating everything that was happening at the moment. Hating the pain in his eyes, the desperation in his voice. I even hated when he moved his hands to my face and leaned closer.

  His lips met mine as my tears fell between our cheeks, and suddenly, it didn’t feel cold outside anymore. I dropped my bag again and wrapped my arms around him, savoring the last time I’d melt under his kiss, hoping that someday I’d be able to forget how wonderful he felt and how we seemed to fit together perfectly. Without regard for the people who may have seen us, he kissed me for the last time.

  Panting, he pulled away and rested his forehead against mine. “If you’re too nice to tell me that you don’t want me, I’ll let you go, Taryn. I know you’re out of my league. You’re going to have a wonderful life.”

  Out of his league? I was an absolute disaster. My mind was so muddled that I couldn’t respond.

  “But know this,” he whispered. “I loved our time together, and I love you. Always will.” Then he kissed my nose, turned his back to me, and jogged away.

  I watched him go until I couldn’t see him anymore, missing him immediately and fiercely. The pain in my chest caused me to crumble right onto the sidewalk as the realization hit me like a brick right to my gut.

  I’d probably just let the best thing that had ever happened to me jog away.

  Chapter Twenty-One

  Oliver

  I ran from Taryn because I didn’t want to get upset in front of her. Having only been with Violet, I wasn’t a relationship expert, but nothing made that clearer to me than the conversation we’d just had.

  She hadn’t said she loved me, but I saw it in her eyes. Maybe. At least I thought I did. Maybe I’d wanted to see it so badly that I was putting it there for her.

  Somewhere at the midpoint of the campus green, I slowed down and sorted myself out. This was only a problem, and every problem had a solution. I turned on the logical side of my brain to analyze what had just happened.

  I’d told Taryn that I loved her and that I’d go to California, give up Violet, Harvard, New York, and the firm. And then she’d said not to.

  Why she’d said no wasn’t the issue. She’d said no. That’s all that mattered.

  When Violet had broken up with me, I thought I’d been heartbroken. Now, as I walked through campus in a daze, I knew I hadn’t been. Sure, I had been sad and worried about the future, but it was nothing like this. Taryn telling me no had made the world go dark and sad as fuck. Was that what a broken heart felt like? Because if so, I couldn’t imagine any worse feeling.

  I pulled out my phone and texted Josh.

  Me: Up for a beer?

  Josh: Violet’s here. She says you’re going to dinner tonight.

  I looked at the time. Shit. I’d forgotten that forty-five minutes earlier, I’d told Vi I’d be ready in an hour. I texted him back.

  Me: On my way.

  Back at my apartment, Josh and Violet were sitting at the kitchen table drinking wine. He offered me a glass. “Pregame cocktail for your parent dinner?”

  After planting a quick kiss to the top of Vi’s head, I took it and thanked him. Vi looked cute. Her hair was up, the curls springing down around her face. Her big dark eyes were made up and looked sparkly.

  She glanced up at me from her seat at the table. “Hope you don’t mind that I came over. I wanted to say hi to Josh, and since you were running late, I thought it would be easier to leave from here.”

  “Of course. Thanks.” Without holding her gaze for too long, I held up the glass. “I’ll take this to go. Gotta get in the shower.”

  I turned on the hot water for my shower and sucked down the wine in two huge gulps. I checked my phone as I waited for the water to warm up. Nothing from Taryn. I didn’t expect there to be.

  After my shower, I wrapped a towel around my waist and prepped my shaving items. I wasn’t in the mood to go out with the parents. Not at all.

  The empty wine glass tempted me. “Josh!” I yelled.

  A few seconds later, he opened the bathroom door. “Yep?”

 
“Can you get me a refill?” I held the glass out to him. “Better yet, just bring me the bottle.”

  He scowled. “Rough day, sweetheart?”

  I shook the glass, but he didn’t take it. “You can’t,” he whispered. “Not only will you turn into a douchebag, but you have to drive.”

  “We’ll Uber.”

  “The Tuesday before Thanksgiving into the city? That’s going to be a tough car to find.”

  “You can take us.” I squeezed shaving cream into the mug I used to make my lather. We were already late, so I had to keep moving.

  “Nope. I’m busy.”

  “Busy jerking off doesn’t count.” I nudged the empty glass toward him again.

  “Ha, no. I have a date.” He leaned against the doorframe.

  “Really?” I circled the shaving brush around my cup of lather as Vi appeared over his shoulder.

  “With whom?” she asked, looking me over. She always loved watching me shave. You make it an art form, she’d said.

  “None of your business,” Josh answered. He took the glass and disappeared, leaving me with Violet.

  She took his place against the doorframe. “Wonder who the lucky girl is,” she said, tilting her head toward Josh.

  I laughed. “Poor sucker.”

  She closed the door behind her as she stepped into the bathroom. I hated that I felt so awkward with her being near me in my almost naked state, like she could see Taryn all over me. I brushed the lather over my face and started shaving in the hope that she wouldn’t try to touch me. After moving the blade over my cheek, I rinsed it out and caught her eye in the mirror.

  She smiled at me. “Are you excited about Harvard?”

  “Yes,” I sort of lied. “How’d my parents find out?”

  “The Dean of Admission’s wife is counsel at the firm’s Boston office. The gossip trickled down. Don’t forget that you have to act surprised by the little party tonight.” She tucked a loose curl away, her fingers sweeping over her ear. Her delicate hands were one of my favorite parts of her, especially when they pressed the strings of her violin.

  “Ah, right. Thanks.” Wanting to change the subject from the night from hell that I anticipated, I said, “Tell me about Vienna.”

  Violet’s eyes lit up as she told me about her time in Austria—the people, the music, the culture. Her excitement perked me up a bit, and when I was done shaving, I found myself standing there listening, arms crossed against my bare chest. Back in the world of Violet that I knew so well. I could read her like a book. Every emotion, every action, I’d seen and heard a thousand times over. Violet was so easy to be with.

  Finally, she raised her eyebrows. “We better get moving. Anyway, you’ll hear all these stories again at dinner probably.”

  “You’re right.” I shook my head to clear it. “I’m glad you had a great experience, Violet.”

  “Thanks. You’ll have to tell me what you’ve been up while I was away.”

  I nodded, but my stomach churned, thinking about the last few weeks.

  “Get dressed. I’ll be finishing up that wine.” She winked at me, looked me over one more time, then left.

  A few minutes later, as I was dressing in my room, Josh tapped on the door. “You okay?” He peeked inside, and I looked behind him for Vi. “She’s on the phone,” he said. “What’s going on?”

  I pulled on a T-shirt and looked back up at him, my shoulders slumping.

  “That bad?” he asked.

  “I don’t know what the fuck I’m doing.” I stepped to my closet and flipped through my shirts. Picking a basic white button-down, I yanked it off the hanger. “Less than an hour ago, I told another woman I loved her, and now Violet’s here ready to triple date with our parents? What kind of man am I?”

  Josh pulled a tie off my rack and handed it to me. “You told Taryn you loved her? Did she say it back?”

  I shook my head. “She told me to go live the life I’d planned. Not to let our…time…together make me lose sight of what I wanted and blah blah.”

  “Damn it, Ollie. She did it to you.”

  “Did what?”

  He looked behind him at the closed door and whispered, “She played you. I told you this would happen.”

  I rolled my eyes and pulled on a pair of dress pants.

  He pointed at me. “I did. And you didn’t listen.”

  “It wasn’t like that, Josh. It was—”

  “Different?” he asked.

  I didn’t answer, opting instead to focus on looping my belt. Josh wouldn’t understand. He’d never been in love. He didn’t know about all of the complications and emotions that came along with it. The fucking emotions.

  “Look,” he said, as I checked myself in the mirror. “Let it be what it was—a weekend with a hot chick—and now go back to your home base. She’s in our kitchen, all dressed up for you. She knows she messed up, Ollie. She blabbed about it the entire time we waited for you. Violet loves you. This thing with Taryn? It was just that, a thing. Even Taryn thinks so, right? Let it go, kick ass in law school, and live the boring life you and Vi have wanted since I met you.”

  With a huff, I put my hands on my hips. I understood what he was saying, but the thought of faking it ‘til I made it with Violet while waiting for my feelings for Taryn to dissipate felt wrong somehow. “You finished?”

  He tossed me my keys from the dresser. “Don’t break Violet’s heart, okay? Not before you give her another chance. Not for Taryn, who, if I could remind you, you didn’t even like a few weeks ago.”

  “I would never want to break Violet’s heart.” That was the truth, and that’s all I could offer him at the moment.

  “Be careful, and don’t drink. I’m sure you’ll want to because, parents, but your hand is going to turn into a mangled mess if you keep punching shit.” He opened the door to leave.

  “Josh?” I called behind him.

  He turned and grunted at me.

  “Thanks.” I took the step to him and pulled him into a man hug, giving him a double-pat on the back.

  “Trust me, okay? I got your back.” He returned the double-pat. “Now please get your girlfriend out of our damn apartment. Women don’t belong here in our man cave.”

  I sputtered a laugh. “See you tomorrow. Have fun on your date.”

  He grinned. “Will do.”

  Chapter Twenty-Two

  Taryn

  On Wednesday morning, I was able to get an early train out of the NJU station to Passaic and then a bus to our apartment. My parents were working, so I spent the day prepping for Thanksgiving. They had almost all of our regular Thanksgiving Day treats—a turkey defrosting in a giant roasting pot, a bag of potatoes, croutons for the stuffing, and salad ingredients. Even the makings of an apple pie.

  In a trance, I prepared the food for the next day, listening to music and trying not to think about Oliver and Violet. Then she texted me.

  A photo of a diamond ring.

  My heart sank. The next text came as I was studying the ring, a solitaire, big and clear with a gold band. Pretty standard, just like Violet would want. I scrolled down to her next text.

  Vi: Found this in Ollie’s room. I think he’s going to ask after dinner tomorrow.

  A litany of emojis followed.

  I had to respond. She was my best friend. My best friend whom I never could look in the eye again.

  Me: It’s gorgeous, Vi.

  Then I turned off my phone, threw it into the garbage, and went to sleep.

  * * *

  Maybe if I stuffed my face with Thanksgiving, I’d be able to tamper down the despair inside, knowing I’d lost my best friend and probably the only guy who’d ever loved me, whom I loved back. Yes, I could admit it. I loved him, even though I’d turned him away at the train station. I loved everything about him— from his super brain function, to his cute smile, to those bushy brows and dark, floppy curls, to his sweet, brown eyes. Mostly I loved him for his heart—a lion’s heart with the soul of a lamb.

>   Loving him, though, did nothing to make me happy at the moment, especially after seeing the ring he’d bought for Violet. All it did was make me want to stuff my face with mashed potatoes.

  So that night, I did. I sat with my parents around the little kitchen table and stuffed myself until I was fuller than the damn turkey I’d roasted for us. My parents looked freaked out as they watched me, forks frozen mid-bite, eyes wide.

  “What?” I said, double-fisting turkey legs. “I’m hungry.”

  “We see that,” said Dad. “Do you eat at school?”

  I nodded, dipping the legs into the bowl of gravy in the middle of the table. Germs, schmerms. They were my parents. They could deal with a little double dipping. “I’m drowning my sorrows.”

  “In gravy?” Mom asked.

  “Apparently.”

  She looked at my dad, then back to me. “Want to talk about it?”

  I pondered the question as I chewed, then swallowed. Did I really want to talk about it? Might as well. Eating didn’t seem to be helping.

  Taking a deep breath, I blurted, “Violet broke up with Oliver and I fell in love with him and now she’s back and they are together and he bought her an engagement ring.”

  I took another bite as they stared at me.

  “They’re engaged?” Mom asked.

  “Not yet. I don’t think. Who knows. She texted me a picture of the ring. I’d show you, but I threw out my phone.”

  My father dropped his fork. “You what?”

  I scrunched my face. “I was upset. I threw it out.”

  Dad walked to the trash and stepped on the pedal to open the lid. “Why were you mad at the phone?” He bent to rummage through the garbage can. “And did you have to bury it under the turkey carcass?”

  “Leave it,” I said. “I don’t want it. I don’t want friends. I’m going to live here and hide with you for the rest of my life. You always say you want me home.”

  “Sit down, hon,” Mom said to Dad.

  My father pointed to the open trash can. “It’s a family plan, Gloria. We’re finding the damn phone.”