Olivia
I'm disappointed we didn't get the house. I am. But disappointment doesn't even begin to describe how Liam has been since we got the news. He refuses to accept it. He keeps offering up more and more money but the other party isn't backing down. I told him to just stop. We'll find another house. I don't care about the house. It's not what made up my mind. It's not what got me to give up Harry once and for all. It's not what made me choose Liam. It was seeing him in the house. Seeing his excitement and vision for starting our life together. Then it was being reminded of the amazing man he is when everything went down with Ruth. We could've been in a shitty studio apartment and I would've said yes. But he isn't giving up so easily.
Even though I'm completely sure about Liam now, it doesn't make it any easier to see Harry the next day. I see his ears perk up when I'm telling Lou that we didn't get the house. It confuses me when he shows interest. Why should he care? But then that bitch of a realtor comes up and it explains everything. He was just waiting for his opportunity to rub her in my face. Barb. What kind of old lady name is that? For some reason I had a picture in my head of a fat, older lady with a bad perm and huge glasses. When she was asking all those questions about Harry, sounding like a lovesick teenager, it didn't make sense. Liam made some comment about knowing Harry would find a way to reel her in and I got curious. After that I had to look her up and see what she looked like. She's still way too old for Harry, but she's one of those older women that tries so hard to look hot. Perfect hair and makeup, slutty business suits, sky high heels. I don't like the surge of jealousy it gives me. It's unsettling.
As much as I hate to admit it, I still have all these weird, twisty, unresolved feelings for Harry. Trying to figure out what they are is useless. I'm with Liam and that's the end of it. But I just wish they would go away once and for all. When I'm with Liam I'm fine. I'm more sure of how much I love him than I ever have been, as strange as that sounds. But when Harry comes around I somehow forget all of that. All I can think about is the fluttering in my chest and the tight knot that forms in my stomach. I can't look at him without my cheeks getting red and burning. I just wish he wasn't so damn hot. If I catch myself looking at him for too long, I feel like I might as well be drooling down my chin with cartoon heart eyes. I can't help it. I just have to remind myself that the Harry I was falling for doesn't exist. He was playing a role. Trying to be the love sick tortured soul when he actually never felt anything for me. He was doing what he had to do to keep me playing his game. As hot as he is, he'll never give me what I want like Liam can. Not that I want to be married or have kids right away but eventually, that is what I want. He said himself he's never going to be that guy. So why should I waste my time with the hot guy that's never going to settle down when I already have my soulmate that I want to spend my life with? Liam who is also insanely hot. I honestly don't know how someone as perfect as Liam loves me but he does. But he's also kind and generous, caring, warm, loving but also strong and protective. He's always going to be the shoulder to lean on when I need it. Liam wants all the same things I want. He's exactly what I need, not Harry.
When we get to Columbus I'm still trying to decide if I'm going to tell Lexie what happened with Harry the morning she left. How I completely folded after she gave me the big pep talk and encouragement to end things. How we probably would still be fooling around if he hadn't admitted he didn't love me. Part of me wants to tell her, just to get it off my chest. I want to be able to talk to someone about it. But the other part of me, the bigger part, is too proud. I don't want her to think any less of me. Given her history, being cheated on herself, she won't like it. I know she was judging a little bit when I told her what I had been doing. She couldn't help it. I don't blame her. I would be judging me too. So I don't tell her. I just can't muster up the courage.
