TO HAVE & HAVE NOT

53

Olivia

Later that evening, I had made the decision to confront CeCe. The weight of questions and doubts pressed heavily on my chest, and I knew I had to face her head-on. The invitation to her apartment had hung over my head all day, a nagging obligation that I could no longer ignore. Arriving at her doorstep, I hesitated for just a moment before knocking.

When the door swung open to reveal her face, I was met with an expression of mock affection. "Olivia, my darling dear, how are you?" she chirped, her voice dripping with insincerity as she stepped aside to let me in.

But I wasn't in the mood for pleasantries. "Cut the bullshit, CeCe," I snapped, punctuating my statement by slamming the front door behind me with a force that echoed through the hallways. The sound of the door slamming felt satisfying; it was a declaration that I was done playing games.

CeCe regarded me coolly, raising a single eyebrow in feigned surprise. "Excuse me?" she replied, her tone deceptively sweet.

The fury boiled over, and I couldn't hold back. "Who the fuck are you?!" I screamed, my voice reverberating off the walls like a thunderclap.

"I'm sorry?" she said, her tone laced with an innocent ignorance that only fueled my anger.

"You were married to him!" I shouted, my hands running through my hair in sheer frustration, choking on my disbelief.

"To who, dear?" she replied, her voice dripping with mockery, as if I were the foolish one.

"Are you really going to make me say his name?" I asked. The thought of even uttering it felt like a betrayal.

"Whose name?" she taunted, a sinister smirk playing at the corner of her lips. "Go on, dear, tell me."

"CeCe, you're sick," I said, shaking my head in disbelief, my gut tightening as I processed the emotional manipulation I had just walked into.

"I'm actually quite well today," she said with a smile that sent a chill down my spine. It was a smile that told me I had underestimated her.

"No, you're sick in the head! I trusted you! I trusted you, and you lied to me!" Panic surged through me as I threw my hands up in frustration, desperate for some acknowledgment of the betrayal.

"Well, I can't help that you're naive," she chuckled, a mocking edge to her voice. "And I helped you."

"Helped me?" I echoed, bewildered. "What kind of game is this?"

"It's no game. I helped you, didn't I?" she questioned, and there it was again—the twisted logic she held onto like a life raft.

"No! You helped yourself!" I shot back, feeling the righteousness of my anger. It was painfully obvious she cared only for her own interests.

"Well, of course," she laughed lightly. "I helped us both. Why on earth would I help you and not help myself?" Her words dripped with self-preservation, and I recoiled at her selfishness.

"But why?" I asked, genuinely confused and seeking answers that would help me understand her motivations.

"Listen, Olivia, I can't help that your mother left you behind and now anyone a tad bit older who is a female you cling to for dear life. That's something I can't help with. But possibly a therapist may be helpful with that. I'm better with other things," she replied, a thinly veiled condescension threading her words.

"I want the tapes back," I said, crossing my arms over my chest in a defensive gesture, the stakes of our interaction weighing heavily in the air.

"I can't do that," she said coldly, her tone betraying no remorse.