The Love Hypothesis by Ali Hazelwood

When in doubt, asking a friend will save my
HYPOTHESIS:
ass.
Chapter Nineteen
Olive spent the following day in the hotel, sleeping, crying,
and doing the very thing that had gotten her into this mess to
begin with: lying. She told Malcolm and Anh that she’d be
busy with friends from college for the entire day, pulled the
blackout curtains together, and then buried herself in her bed.
Which, technically, was Adam’s bed.
She didn’t let herself think about the situation too much.
Something inside her—her heart, very possibly—was broken
in several large pieces, not shattered as much as neatly
snapped in half, and then in half again. All she could do was
sit down amid the debris of her feelings and wallow. Sleeping
through most of the day helped dull the pain a great deal.
Numb, she was rapidly starting to realize, was good.
She lied the day after, too. Feigned a last-minute request
from Dr. Aslan when asked to join her friends at the
conference or on excursions around Boston, and then took a
deep, fortifying breath. She drew the curtains open, forced her
blood to start flowing again (with fifty crunches, fifty jumping
jacks, and fifty push-ups, though she cheated on the last by
going on her knees), then showered and brushed her teeth for
the first time in thirty-six hours.
It wasn’t easy. Seeing Adam’s Biology Ninja T-shirt in the
mirror made her tear up, but she reminded herself that she’d
made her choice. She’d decided to put Adam’s well-being
first, and she didn’t regret it. But she’d be damned if she let