Olivia

Intro I didn’t come to the bar looking for a girlfriend. I came for a beer and maybe a little pity from my buddies. Instead, I found myself scanning the room like a casting director for a rom-com nobody asked for. My mom’s retirement party is in three days. Everyone—my aunts, cousins, family friends from church—thinks I’m bringing my girlfriend. The girlfriend who, as of last week, is now my ex. And if I show up solo, I can already hear the whispers and feel the judgmental pats on the back: “You’ll find someone eventually, honey.” No thanks. So there I was, sipping a cheap beer, mentally drafting the world’s saddest Craigslist ad—“Fake girlfriend needed. Must tolerate awkward family games, lukewarm casserole, and my grandmother asking invasive questions.” That’s when I saw her. She was laughing with her friends, twirling a straw in her drink, completely oblivious to the fact that she might just be my way out of this mess. Or the start of a much bigger one.