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Most of all, I need Freddie to be man enough to own his feelings for me. Sleeping in his car means fuck all if he can’t openly admit that I actually mean something to him. Until he does—if he ever does—I’m done.
We’re done.
Chapter 12
GEORGINA
The alarm goes off in the pocket of Freddie’s hoodie, and as my eyes startle open, I’m met with the sight of snowy roses. They’re so full and velvety that I can’t resist the urge to touch them when I sit up in the dining chair I fell asleep in. The flowers are something between peonies and buttercups, and they smell incredible, yet all I can do is count them again and again. Same as the night before last when Fleur dropped the mug, my heart pounds at a wild, frightened pace that leaves me lightheaded.
“Morning,” Casper says from the other end of the table, and when I look at him, he gives me that pertinent really? expression. “I was going to throw them at his head, but given you’re that lovesick that you can’t even sleep in the perfectly adequate bed I’ve offered you…it felt like a pointless task.”
“Freddie brought me flowers?”
Well aware that I’m gawping, I force my mouth shut and try to relax my wide-eyed stare. All the sleep that was still blurring it slightly is gone completely.
“While you’re working on the facial business, you might want to wipe the drool off your chin.” Pointing to his chin, he slurps his coffee loudly in an effort to annoy me.
It works. The sound grates through me, making me shudder with disgust while I frantically wipe at my mouth and chin.
“You’re a dick,” I spit at him when I realise that he was teasing me about the drool too.
“No. No, no, no…your fucked-in-the-head—” Casper pauses, obviously searching for whatever he wants to say. “—boyfriend is a dick for waking my wife and teething daughter up at shit o’clock on a Saturday morning to deliver your flowers.”
Looking over at the bouquet that’s in a translucent pink vase, I keep staring and staring until I work the courage to get closer. My heart is still beating out of my chest, and maybe I’m being silly, but the light pink silk ribbon that’s tied around the vase is all the confirmation I need to know that the roses really are from Freddie. All those times he’s teased me about the way I lace my Converse play around in my head, and I can’t help but smile as I glance between my bare feet and the flowers.
What does this mean? I ask myself as I pull out the card with a watercolour swan on the front. When I open it, I pause at the three words inscribed inside.
I miss you.
F.
It’s not an essay or anything—they’re not even the words I yearn to hear from him—but I’m as mesmerised by them as though they are. Or maybe I’m shocked because I’m pretty certain this doesn’t happen in the normal world. Freddie’s normal world. So possibly I am in the twilight zone, or perhaps this is another stupid dream that I’m going to wake up from and be disappointed by my reality again. Regardless, I allow myself to live in the moment for a little while.
“This shouldn’t be enough, should it?” I murmur when Casper gets up.
“Only you know what’s enough, George. Only you can determine what will make up for the hurt.” That’s not what I was expecting him to say. If I’d put money on it, I would’ve said he was going to tell me to take the flowers and shove them where the sun doesn’t shine. Instead, he comes closer and perches on the edge of the dinner table. “The brother in me says nothing will ever be enough. Because it won’t. End of, Georgie. You will never be able to unfeel the sadness.”
“You hurt Fleur too, and she’s here and she loves you. Look around you—you guys have this whole life together now.”
“It’s up to you how much you’re willing to forgive and what it will take for him to earn that forgiveness. No one else matters. Not what they think or what they say. Not even Freddie. At the end of the day, it’s about you and what you can and can’t live with. Obviously, Fleur can’t live without me.” He adds that last part with a light chuckle that I’m certain is meant to put me at ease, but instead, it’s got me thinking about a life without Freddie at all and how that would be.
Crushing. That’s the instant feeling I get. As though everything inside me withers to nothing in the most painful way. The mere thought of not having Freddie in my life drains all the colour from my entire world.
“I hate him a lot of the time, and I mean that in the complete sense of the sentiment. Freddie makes everything difficult because he’s so caught up on the black and white. He’s all about getting the job done. Get in and get out. Walk away. It’s why I put him on you. There isn’t anyone I trust more to do what it takes to keep you breathing.” He pauses, drawing in a deep breath. “In spite of everything, I have no doubt that he would give his life for you.”
“You say that like it’s a bad thing to you.”
“It is, because it means that even though I want to fuck him up, I can’t.”
“I don’t want you to.” Flipping the card in my hand open, I read the message again.
I miss you.
“Freddie doesn’t care about many things. Not enough to openly show it like this.” Casper nods down at the flowers. “I know they’re not what you want. Not really, but even if I want you to stick it to him for good out of principle, there’s one thing you need to consider…”
“Gone on,” I press with my heart hammering in my throat, waiting for him to finish instead of watching me so closely that he may as well be holding up a magnifying glass.
“Freddie and me, we’ve been friends since we were children.”
