present day
THE SUNLIGHT FILTERED WEAKLY through through the blinds, casting faint streaks across the bedroom walls. valerie laid in bed, the weight of the past month pressing down on her like a heavy blanket. her body felt sluggish, her mind stuck in a never-ending loop of odessa's words and billie's absence. everything felt distant yet unbearably raw, as though it had just happened yesterday.
the days bled into each other. she barely got out of bed, only rising to force down water or splash her face. her phone stayed on the nightstand, untouched, except for the occasional glance to check the time or silence her friends' calls and texts. olivia, who had been checking in daily, showing up unannounced with food or just to sit in the silence with her.
it should have been comforting, but it only made valerie feel worse. like she was a burden. a chore. another thing olivia had to handle on top of everything else in her life.
today was no different. olivia had arrived earlier, bringing coffee and pastries valerie hadn't touched. she'd left after asking the same question she asked every day, her voice soft and unrelenting. "are you sure you're gonna be okay?"
valerie hadn't responded then, and she still didn't as the memory replayed in her mind. she just stared at the ceiling, unmoving, letting the weight crush her further. her mind drifted-from billie, to the party, to her mom.
her mom.
it had been years since that day, but the memory was still sharp. the way her mother had shown up uninvited, spun hollow apologies, then demanded things she didn't deserve when the act fell apart.
her stomach churned as the memory played out again, every word her mom had said cutting like it was fresh. she closed her eyes, biting her lip hard to keep the tears from coming. the anger she felt back then had been fierce and consuming. now, it was duller, a slow ache that never went away.
she hated how similar it felt to now. how much billie's betrayal-if it even was that-left her feeling the same way: used, broken, abandoned.
her breath hitched, and her chest felt tighter. she wanted to stop thinking, stop feeling, but her thoughts wouldn't let her. instead, she reached for the notebook on her bedside table.
it had been weeks since she'd opened it, and the blank pages stared back at her, both inviting and taunting. writing used to feel like freedom, a release. but now, it felt like reopening wounds she wasn't sure would ever heal.
her hand shook as she picked up the pen. the first line was messy and hesitant, but she didn't stop. another line followed, then another.
the words came in bursts-jagged and raw, spilling out like blood. anger. betrayal. sadness. it all poured onto the page in fragments, unfinished verses and scattered thoughts. she didn't bother to cross anything out, letting it all exist as it was: imperfect and honest.
by the time she looked up, the room was bathed in twilight. the notebook laid heavy in her lap, but for the first time in weeks, something inside her felt just a little lighter.
the door creaked open, and she turned her head to see olivia standing there. her expression was soft but cautious, like she was afraid of pushing too hard.
"hey," olivia said quietly, stepping into the room. she glanced at the notebook in valerie's lap but didn't comment on it. "you haven't eaten all day."
valerie shrugged, turning her gaze away. "not hungry."
olivia didn't let up. "i'll make you something small. toast, soup, whatever you want. just a little."
valerie sighed, but she didn't argue. "fine."
olivia didn't leave the room right away. instead, she came closer and sat down on the edge of the bed. "val, i know you feel like shit right now. and i know it's hard to think about anything but what happened. but you have to eat. you have to take care of yourself."
valerie didn't respond, her eyes fixed on a point somewhere beyond olivia's shoulder.
olivia stood after a moment, giving her arm a gentle squeeze before heading to the kitchen.
a little while later, she returned with a bowl of soup and some crackers. she sat beside valerie again, setting the food on the nightstand and waiting patiently until valerie reached for it. it was slow, but she ate enough to satisfy olivia, who smiled softly and took the empty bowl back to the kitchen.
when she returned, she didn't grab her bag to leave. instead, she kicked off her shoes and climbed onto the other side of the bed, pulling the blanket over her legs.
valerie frowned. "you don't have to stay, liv."
"i know," olivia said simply, leaning against the headboard. "but i'm not leaving."
valerie didn't have the energy to argue. instead, she settled back into the pillows, letting olivia's quiet presence fill the room. it wasn't a solution, but it was enough to make her feel a little less alone.
we all deserve a liv in our lives