The Grudge •||• PA17

•||•

27 October 2025

The scent of tequila and regret was still thick in the air when I woke up Monday morning in Mexico City. Ollie was stirring beside me, groaning, his hand pressed to his forehead. His phone was on the bedside table, lighting up with notifications that were unanswered since last night. I knew who the notifications were from, I didn't need to check again.

I didn't speak. I simply pulled on the clothes I'd discarded the night before, my movements sharp and purposeful.

Ollie finally cracked open an eye. "Vivi? God, my head is killing me. What time is it?"

"Time to talk," I said, my voice dangerously calm. I moved to the foot of the bed and stood there, arms crossed.

He immediately sobered, seeing the rigid set of my jaw and the coldness in my eyes. He sat up quickly, pulling the blanket around his waist. "Look, about last night... I was wasted. I didn't mean any of that, baby. You know I get crazy when I drink and I'm stressed about Paul."

"No," I cut him off, shaking my head slowly. "You meant every word. That wasn't the tequila talking, Ollie. That was your fear talking, and I'm done being the punching bag for your insecurity."

"That's unfair! I just finished P4! We were celebrating! Why are you always looking for a fight?"

"I'm not looking for a fight. I'm giving you back the freedom you clearly want." I took a deep breath. "We're breaking up, Ollie. This is over."

The shock was immediate, but only lasted a second. He ran a hand through his hair, a nervous, defensive gesture. "Don't be ridiculous, Viviana. Because I was jealous? You're going to end one and a half year over a drunken rant about Paul?"

"No. I'm ending one and a half year because your 'drunken rant' confirmed everything Kimi warned me about. That you see me as a hostage, not a partner. You hate my past, you resent my friends, and you blame me for your own lack of focus."

He jumped out of bed, grabbing a t-shirt. "Fine! If you want to talk about reality, let's talk about reality! You haven't been truly present in this relationship since Paul apologized in Silverstone! You look at him like you're waiting for a rescue. I know you've loved him since you were kids, Viviana. I always knew that!"

The admission hung there, heavy and accusatory. He saw it all, yet he still tried to control me.

"If you knew that, why did you fight so hard to keep me?" I whispered, the pain sharp in my throat.

He laughed, a short, bitter sound. "Because I loved you! And because I earned you! I was the one who was there, not him. I gave up my sim work to help you walk again, to help you drive again. And you just throw it all away for the ghost of an old friendship?"

"I'm throwing it away because you think your help was a transaction, Oliver. Not love." My eyes narrowed, remembering the last few weeks where he'd been oddly distant. "And let's talk about other people. Who is Alicia?"

The name hit him like a punch. All the rage, the self-pity, the manufactured injury; it vanished, replaced by sheer panic. His eyes darted away, guilty and cornered.

"I— I don't know what you're talking about," he stammered, pulling the shirt over his head.

"Don't lie to me. Not now. I saw the messages pop up last night. Late nights, drinks in Austin when I was asleep... Who is she?"

He dropped his gaze to the floor. "It was nothing, Vivi. Just talking. We had fights, I saw the end coming, and I was lonely, okay? It never went past talking and a few drinks. I didn't— I never cheated."