Chapter 3 Unexpected Calls

Olivia：POV

I woke up the next morning with a pounding headache and the vague memory of turning off my phone. Sunlight streamed through my bedroom curtains, and I squinted at my alarm clock—8:47 AM. Shit. I was supposed to be at the office by 9.

I fumbled for my phone and powered it back on, immediately regretting it as notifications flooded the screen. Six missed calls from Blake Westwood, all from last night, and one voicemail.

'What the hell?'

The morning at the office passed in a haze, my mind completely unfocused on work. By the time the afternoon quarterly marketing presentation rolled around, my attention had scattered to the breaking point.

I was only half-listening to the quarterly marketing presentation when my phone buzzed against the conference table. Blake Westwood's name flashed on the screen again, and for a moment I just stared at it, as if my brain couldn't process why he was calling again right now.

'Blake? Why is he calling me again?'

I quickly declined the call and flipped my phone face-down. The timing was bizarre. After nearly four years of radio silence, he decided to call repeatedly?

The rest of the meeting passed in a blur. I nodded at appropriate intervals, but my thoughts kept drifting back to Blake. When it finally ended, I slipped away to an empty corner office and closed the door.

Before I could overthink it, I hit the call button. He answered on the second ring.

"Olivia." His voice was deeper than I remembered, with a warm timbre that sent an unexpected shiver down my spine. For a split second, I was twelve again, sitting next to him on his parents' dock.

"Blake, hey." I tried to sound casual. "I saw you called a bunch of times last night. Is everything okay?"

A pause. "You tell me."

"What do you mean?"

"Check your messages," he said. "WhatsApp."

I opened WhatsApp while keeping Blake on the line. Our chat history appeared, and there at the bottom was a message from me sent at 1:34 AM:

Me: 【hjkl;dfgh jkl;sdfg hjkl;wert】

"Oh," I said. "That."

"Yeah, that." His voice sounded tighter now. "I woke up to that message and thought something might have happened to you."

Warmth spread across my face. Of course he would think that—a random string of characters sent in the middle of the night looked like a cry for help.

"I'm so sorry," I said quickly. "Nothing happened. I was just... scrolling through contacts last night and must have accidentally hit some keys. I was half-asleep."

Another pause, longer this time. "So you're okay?"

"I'm fine. Really. Just a stupid mistake."

"Alright," he said, his voice cooling several degrees. "Good to know."

An awkward silence stretched between us. I should have said something, but my mind went completely blank.

"Well," Blake finally said, "I should let you get back to work."

"Blake, I—"

"It's fine, Olivia. Glad you're okay."

The call ended before I could respond. I stared at my phone, a strange hollowness expanding in my chest. Why had he sounded so... let down?

He was the one who disappeared from my life when I started dating Jason.

Jason. The name brought me back to reality and the task at hand. I checked my watch—four hours until Operation Cheater Exposure.

My phone buzzed with a text from Charlotte.

Charlotte: Everything set for tonight. Photographer confirmed. You ready?

Was I ready to publicly confront my boyfriend of three years about his infidelity?

Me: Ready. 7pm at Delmar's. I'll be there at 7:30 sharp.

Charlotte: He just texted confirming our "date." This asshole is actually going to try to see us both in one night.

Me: Wear something stunning. I want the photos to really pop.

Charlotte: Red dress, fuck-me heels. What about you?

Me: Black dress. The one he always said made me look "sophisticated."

Charlotte: Perfect. Let's destroy him.

At 6:45, I changed into the black dress that hugged my curves perfectly. I touched up my makeup, adding a bold red lip—Jason's favorite. Let him remember exactly what he was losing.

Delmar's was one of San Francisco's hottest restaurants. I arrived at 7:28, parking across the street for a clear view. Charlotte's text confirmed they were already seated near the window—perfect.

At 7:30 exactly, I stepped out of my car and crossed the street. Through the window, I could see them—Charlotte laughing at something Jason said, her hand on his arm. Jason's back was to the window, but I'd know that posture anywhere.

I pushed open the door and walked directly to their table.

Charlotte saw me first, her eyes widening with perfectly practiced surprise. Jason noticed her expression change and turned, his face freezing in horror.

"Olivia?" he choked out, half-rising from his seat. "What are you—"

"How could you lie to me like this, Jason?" I kept my voice steady, loud enough to be heard at nearby tables. "You've been cheating on me?"

Charlotte pulled her hand back as if burned. "Cheating? What is she talking about, Jason?" Her acting was impeccable.

Jason's eyes darted between us, panic evident. "This isn't—I can explain—"

"Explain what?" I demanded. "Explain how you've been dating us both? For how long, Jason?"

Charlotte turned to him, tears welling in her eyes. "Is this true? Am I just the other woman to you?"

Around us, diners had stopped eating. From the corner of my eye, I caught a subtle movement—Charlotte's photographer friend, discreetly capturing every moment.

"Three years," I said, looking at Charlotte. "We've been together for three years."

"Four months for us," she replied, voice breaking. "He told me he was single."

Jason's face had gone from red to white. "Please, both of you, can we discuss this somewhere private?"

"Why?" I asked coldly. "Are you embarrassed to have your lies exposed in public?"

Charlotte stood up, gathering her purse. "I can't believe this. I thought what we had was real." She turned to me. "I'm so sorry. I had no idea he was with someone."

I nodded, a silent acknowledgment of our alliance. "It's not your fault. He manipulated us both."

Charlotte wiped away a tear and walked toward the exit. I turned to follow.

"Olivia, wait!" Jason called, scrambling after me. "Olivia, please, you have to let me explain!"