Not Sorry

She folds her arms across her chest. “I’m not mad that you acted cold toward me back in Jamie’s office. I understand. I really do. I just think we need to stop whatever this is. It doesn’t make sense anymore.”

I feel like she just slapped me.

“Why? Because you’re pregnant?” I ask.

She nods. “I’m pregnant, and you already know it’s not yours.”

I rub my neck, trying to find the words to defuse the situation. “Yes, I know the baby isn’t mine. But that doesn’t matter. We can still date. Still see where this goes. And, no matter what happens, I will always be here for you and your baby.”

“Like you are going to be there for Jamie?” she says solemnly.

“Yes,” I say slowly, not understanding.

“I think you should just be there for Jamie and not for me. I have plenty of things to worry about without having to worry about where you and I stand.”

“What are you talking about? I don’t want Jamie. I want you.”

She shakes her head. “You still love Jamie.”

I frown but don’t have any words to fix this. I can tell her that I don’t love Jamie, but it is clear that she wouldn’t believe me.

“I don’t want to give you up,” I say.

I see the tears starting, but Olive shakes them away.

“I broke you and Jamie up,” she says almost defiantly.

“What are you talking about?”

“About five years ago, I was homeless. I was living on the street. Occasionally, I would get to sleep in a homeless shelter, but I mostly slept on benches in parks, tucked in the doorways of shops, or under highways.

“One night, I fell asleep on the doorstep of Jamie’s small office. She only had two employees at that time. She had to wake me up to get into her office that day. She was running late, as always, so she asked me if I would get her a coffee. She offered to pay me ten bucks if did it, so I did.

“And then, the next morning, I got her coffee again. Eventually, she started paying me to be her assistant. She got me off the street and into the apartment that I live in now. She saved me.

“And so, a year ago, she told me about you. Except she never used your name. She always referred to you as her baby, honey, sweetheart, et cetera. She was so in love—or so she said. She thought you were going to propose soon. She was living the fairy-tale life.

“But, over the next couple of years, I got to know Jamie. I knew that, even though you had dated on and off for years, she wasn’t ready to settle down. She had a company to run, and all she talked about was, once you proposed, she would sell the company and be a stay-at-home mom. But she wasn’t ready for that. And, from everything I’d heard about you, you weren’t ready for that. So…”

“So, you broke us up,” I finish for her.

She nods.

“You showed her that message,” I say.

She nods. “You left your phone at her apartment. So, I just let her see what an ass you were.”

“She broke up with me because she thought I was cheating on her. But I wasn’t.”

The tears fall now. “I didn’t realize it until later—when your mother texted that she loved you back. I hadn’t realized it was your mother, but by then, Jamie had already broken up with you, and I thought it was for the best. I thought I was saving her from a life of unhappiness. I didn’t want her to give up everything she had worked so hard for. She needed a man who fit into her life.

“I was one of her closest friends, yet the guy she had been seeing for over a year never even made an attempt to meet me. He never came to her work. She spent most of her time traveling to see him. I didn’t think it was the healthiest relationship.”

She takes a deep breath.

“But, now that I see you two together, I realize how mistaken I was. You two are perfect for each other.”

Her tears flow freely while I’m in a state of shock.