Chapter Seventy-Eight

**OLIVER** 
I shoved a spoonful of food into my mouth, sighing heavily at the deafening silence of the house. A silence that I had forced myself to get used to. I looked around the house, the otherwise small structure had somehow found a way to become smaller, and even much smaller with Carrie in it. I sighed heavily at the thought of her and gulped down a glass of water, I had managed to avoid her in recent times, but I wondered for how long I would be successful. For how long before she only becomes more desperate? For how long before she ups her antics? Before she starts making even bolder moves? 
I sighed yet again and shoved a spoon full spoon of lasagna into my mouth. It was Gabriel's favorite. I have found myself throwing myself into the things he liked to do to make up for the fact that he wasn’t there. Sleep on his side of the bed. Wear his clothes. Eat his favorite food. Read the paper that I hated every morning. 
My lips turned down in disgust as I shoved another spoonful, the well-prepared dish tasting like sand in my mouth, however, I forced myself to chew, forced myself to function, forced myself to live. I couldn’t possibly stop eating simply because a man left me…because a man thought I wasn’t good enough. 
But that wasn’t just any man, was it? That man was my better half, the only man I could ever love, the only one after my heart. I rubbed my chest, trying my darkest to fight the sudden wave of sadness that overcame me. It’s been weeks, and I still couldn’t get over the fact that he wasn’t here. 
I stare at my phone seated on the table next to me, my fingers itching to pick it up and call him, hear his voice, tell him how much I love him, how much I miss him. I wanted to apologize for sins and crimes I wasn’t even sure I committed if it meant that he would come home to me. I folded my hands into fists and threw my gaze away from the phone, resisting the urge to call him, and shoved another spoonful of food into my mouth. 
Maybe it was pride, maybe it was anger, but whatever it was, I was going to listen to it. 
My heart fell into my chest as the front door opened, and a pair of very familiar footsteps ventured in. I froze in my seat looked up at the wall clock that sat on the kitchen wall and swore under my breath. This was about the time she came home from work, I had been so engrossed in a problem far away that I had forgotten about the one that lived with me. I took a deep breath and braced myself as I heard her footsteps headed for the kitchen. It was too late to escape, and so I sat still and steeled myself. 
She opened the door to the kitchen, humming a merry tune to herself and carrying a small bag of groceries in her hand. A wide smile spread across her face as her eyes fell on me, her square, white teeth on full display and a twinkle in her eyes. 
“Well, well, well,” she said as chuckled. “I feel like I’ve just seen a unicorn.” 
I rolled my eyes at her statement and continued staring at her. She had since let her hair grow back out, and it now stopped at mid back, her cheeks were rosier, and life seemed to have returned to her eyes. I guess you could say she had gotten over her husband, Carlos, death. 
I watched as she slid into the seat next to mine, and stared at my plate before me, her gaze alternating between me and my food. 
“That smells nice,” she said as she stared at my plate longingly. 
“Thanks…” 
“That looks good,” she said. “It doesn’t look like you’ve touched it though. Don’t you like it?” 
She didn’t wait for me to respond, rather I was forced to watch in surprise as she slid my plate of food to herself, and pried my spoon from my hands. She shoved a spoonful into her mouth and moaned as the flavors exploded in her mouth. I watched her take several spoonfuls, my heart beaming with pride at the raw appreciation of my culinary skills. In that moment, it didn’t matter that she more or less stole my dinner from me, it didn’t matter that I wasn’t entirely comfortable seated this close to her. 
At that moment, I was reminded of who I used to do this for. Not that I ever forgot, and it all came crashing down. The high…the momentary joy. It all came down. It didn’t entirely help that Carrie -the sole cause of the tempest- was the one enjoying the food, and not her cousin. It suddenly felt as though I was drenched in ice-cold water. 
“This is very tasty,” she said in between mouthfuls. “It reminds me of home. I and Gabriel would sit in my mother’s kitchen while she prepared this.” 
I watched Carrie closely, watched at the faraway look in her eyes, and for the first time since I met her, wondered what her childhood was like, what circumstances had led to her being the way she was. Who she had been in her younger years. I would ask her, but I genuinely wasn’t that curious. So, I just sat and I watched her eat without interrupting. 
The more I watched, the more I got confused. When she had stepped into the kitchen, a part of me had been expecting her to be all over me…like she always was. But now, she was seated across from me, shoving my meal down her throat, and reminiscing about the old days. 
“What do you think you’re doing?” I asked, unable to hold in my curiosity any longer. 
The spoon stopped midway to her mouth and she carefully lowered it back to her plate as she turned to face me. 
“What do you mean?” She asked. 
I scoffed at the question. This was the line she was going to take? Confusion? I ran my hand through my hair, and took a deep breath, praying to the powers that be for patience. 
“I asked you what you think you’re doing, Carrie?” 
Carrie shrugged and furrowed her brows in confusion. “What does it look like I’m doing, Oliver? I’m eating!” 
I ran my hand through my hair, and looked up at the ceiling, as though trying to pray down some power from above. 
“Let’s not do this, Carrie,” I said. “You know very well what I’m talking about.” 
“Do I?” She asked, a mischievous glint in her eyes. “I have no idea about anything, Oliver.” 
I feel my eye twitch in its sockets, the veins in my head throbbing from the frustrations of it all. I stand forcefully, my chair falling backward from the impact. I paced the floor of the small kitchen, forcing myself to gather my thoughts and control myself. I stop,!/!: lean against the table. 
“What are you doing here, Carrie?” 
Carrie rolled her eyes, a smug look on her face. “Last time I checked, I just so happened to live here…” she said, her eyes holding mine as she slowly shoveled food into her mouth. Her gaze mocked me. 
I felt my blood boil in anger at her indifference…at her acting. It irritated me to no end, neither did it make sense to me that she would decide to play the dumb one on a random evening. I’m a fit of rage, I slammed my hands down on the table; causing my cup to turn over, emptying the liquid onto the table and then the floor. 
“That’s it, Carrie! Do you want me to spell it out for you?! Fine!” I yelled. “What are you doing? From the very first moment we met, you’ve been trying to get me to bed. Day in, day out. And now…now, you’re seated here acting like we’re old friends! What is wrong with you, Carrie?! What is happening?! What is your plan this time?! What do you plan to do to me?! Haven’t you done enough?!” 
The words rushed out of my mouth, and by the time I was done, I was out of breath and panting heavily for air. But in the midst of it all, deep down, I felt an odd sense of relief. Relief that I had finally gotten it off of my chest, and could finally breathe properly since she stepped foot into my kitchen. 
Carrie sighed, lowered her spoon to her plate, and pushed her plate farther into the table until it was almost at the center. I watched as she retrieved my topples cup and poured herself a glass of water, her movements almost monotonous. I watched as she gulped down the water, and sighed heavily. 
Carrie chuckled mirthlessly, her eyes suddenly carrying a sadness about her. “I’m not the monster you think I am, Oliver. This monster you’ve made out of me…I swear to you that I’m not it…” 
I was taken aback. Of all the responses in the world, I hadn’t expected that she would come up with that. I stood up, my back straightened with apprehension as I continued to stare at the devious and dubious woman before me. 
“What’s that supposed to mean?” I asked. 
“I’m a good person, Oliver…” she continued. “A good person in a bad situation.” 
Good people do not actively try to fuck their cousin’s man, I thought to myself but held my tongue, thinking it wise to do so. 
“Oh? So we’re going to act like the past few months hadn’t existed, Carrie?” 
Carrie’s eyes drifted up to meet mine and then roved over my frame seductively. Her brown eyes drew me in. She bit down on her lower lip, and I found myself swallowing saliva. 
Carrie sighs and rubs her hands together. “I’ve been in a bad place, Oliver…” she started, her voice soft and soothing. “You are in a bad place too, I can see it.” 
She was right. 
“And what does that have to do with you?” 
Carrie nodded, as though she had been expecting the question for a while. “I’m proposing that we bury the hatchet.” 
“Bury the hatchet?!” 
The same hatchet that she had used to cut down my life, to change Gabriel away from me, and she just wanted to bury it like nothing happened. 
“Listen. I know that I’ve already caused some damage to you and your life, but I believe that we can turn it around,” Carrie said. “I’m trying to extend an olive branch here.” 
My eyes widened in surprise. “An olive branch?” 
“Yes. An olive branch. We could both benefit tremendously from it, you know.” 
“How?!” 
“Gabriel,” Carrie answered. “It would mean a lot to him if we both got along.” 
I opened my mouth to speak but she raised her hand and shook her head, effectively cutting me off and silencing me. 
“And it would be great for your relationship. You can have the old spice that you guys once enjoyed.” 
I pulled my chair back up and sat in it, staring at Carrie and thinking of her proposition. She was right. Getting along with her would better our relationship seeing as she was the cause to begin with. Getting rid of her would be better for us as well. I sighed and swore under my breath as I realized that I had been doing that a lot. 
“Truce?” Carrie asked with a hand outstretched. 
I nodded and took it. “Truce.”