Dive

Chapter 3

The next morning, sunlight filtered through the slats of Olivia's blinds, casting soft, golden stripes across her bed. She groaned, rolling over and shielding her eyes from the brightness. Her head throbbed slightly, the remnants of last night's wine lingering, but it wasn't the hangover that weighed on her mind.

It was him.

Harry.

She had barely slept, her thoughts buzzing with memories of their conversation. There was something about him that had drawn her in—his ease, his warmth, the way he listened without judgment. He hadn't pried, hadn't pushed her to reveal more than she was ready for. And yet, in that brief window of time, she had shared more with him than she had with anyone in the past year.

Rolling out of bed, Olivia wrapped herself in her worn, oversized sweater and padded into the kitchen. As she made coffee, the events of the night before replayed in her mind. Harry Styles, of all people, had shown up in Pine Valley, listened to her sing, bought her a drink, and then sat with her as if they were just two regular people. It felt like a dream—a strange, beautiful dream that she wasn't sure she wanted to wake from.

But as she stood at the counter, waiting for the coffee to brew, reality crept in. The past had a way of lingering, of casting a shadow over the present, and no matter how much she wanted to believe that last night was something new, something different, she couldn't shake the voice in her head—the one that reminded her of everything she had been through.

Her phone buzzed on the counter, pulling her from her thoughts. She glanced at the screen, her heart skipping when she saw the name: Matt. Her ex.

For a moment, she considered ignoring it. She had deleted his number, blocked him on social media, and done everything in her power to put him behind her. But Matt had a way of resurfacing when she least expected it. With a resigned sigh, she unlocked the phone and read the message.

Matt: Hey. Can we talk?

A knot formed in Olivia's stomach. He had sent messages like this before, little attempts at reconnecting. Sometimes he apologized, sometimes he tried to explain, and sometimes he said he missed her, that he had made a mistake. But every time, Olivia reminded herself that she couldn't go back. She wouldn't.

She deleted the message without replying, her fingers trembling slightly as she set the phone down.

It had been three months since she had found out the truth, three months since she had packed up her things and left the apartment they had shared for five years. The betrayal still stung, like an old wound that hadn't fully healed. She had loved him, trusted him, and in the end, he had thrown it all away for someone else. She had given him everything—six years of her life—and he had taken it for granted.

Olivia exhaled, willing herself to let go of the anger that bubbled up inside her. She wasn't that person anymore. She couldn't let Matt have that kind of power over her. Not after everything.

As she sipped her coffee, her thoughts drifted back to Harry. It felt strange to think of him as Harry Styles, international pop star, because last night he had just been Harry—the guy who sat with her and talked about music, about life, and made her laugh. It had been so long since she had felt that lightness, that sense of connection with someone.

But she wasn't ready. Not yet.

She needed to figure out who she was without Matt, without the shadow of her past hanging over her. Maybe that was why she had been so reluctant to ask for Harry's number, to let the night turn into something more. She wasn't sure if she could trust herself, let alone someone else.

The day passed in a blur of errands and rehearsals. Olivia had another gig that evening, but her mind was elsewhere. As she set up her equipment at the Rusty Nail, she couldn't help but wonder if Harry would show up again. She told herself it was ridiculous—he had probably moved on, continuing his road trip to whatever destination he had in mind. He wasn't going to stick around a tiny town like St. Ives just for her.