I wipe away Junie’s tear and the one that follows close behind. “I’ll ask her if she’s coming back, okay?”
Junie nods, and I send her toward the kitchen where I hear Mom starting breakfast.
Then I go back to my room to figure out how to fix the mistake I’ve made. I pushed Frankie away first. If she sounds guarded in her texts, that’s my fault. I’m the one who pushed her away.
Now I’ve got to find a way to fix what may be the biggest mistake of my life.
Chapter 20
Frankie
Isleep hard but still wake up exhausted. Can’t remember the last time I slept past five a.m. but the sun’s peeking through the blinds with a wicked glare. I check my phone. Eight am.
Reckon I’ve got years of missed sleep to catch up on. I doubt the proper exhaustion and the weight in my chest stopping my breath will end anytime soon. To make things worse—I’m a bit of sadomasochist, apparently—I open my text thread with Cal from last night and read through each message again. Like I need a reminder of what I’ve left behind.
It was sweet of Cal to check on me. Very on brand. But I’m not sure how to take it. He wanted me to go to keep his family out of my mess of a life, but I don’t think he realizes my life will always be messy. His texts make it harder to walk away without looking back.
While I’m reading them again, dots appear. Disappear. Reappear.
Then a message.
Could we FaceTime later? Junie wants to talk.
For a second, the weight in my chest releases, then reality sinks in, bringing the weight crashing down harder.
I already miss Cal.
Not just Cal. Junie, too. Her laugh. Her hugs.
If I see her smile again, it’ll only make this separation harder. And if there are tears involved, I’ll go running back. Because right now, hiding out at the Holloway ranch feels like a better option than facing the demons I’ve left behind here in LA.
But there’s no way those demons won’t follow me. I text back…
I don’t think that’s a good idea.
An eternity passes before another message appears.
Sorry. I shouldn’t have asked.
No worries
I reply, then set my mobile aside and exhale. I did the right thing. Just because I can’t make myself get out of bed doesn’t mean I regret my decision. Doesn’t mean I’m rehashing everything Piper said last night, either, wondering if she was right.
Today is just a good day for a lie in. That’s all. That’s what this is. The lie in I’ve been craving for years.
Even on Mondays off, I don’t stay in bed. I go for a drive, maybe a run. On occasion, a surf. I used to be a pro at giving myself time off to relax. The irony is, when I escaped LA for Serenity Cove, I forgot how to be still. I had to keep running—keep moving—to feel safe.
Now the only place that feels safe is right here in this bed, underneath the duvet, curled up with a pillow.
Just as I close my eyes, someone knocks on my door. “You up, Frankie?”
I want to say no, but “yeah, Arch,” is what comes out, so I sit up and prop the pillows behind me.
Archie peers in. “Ready to ring She-Who-Shall-Not-Be-Named?”
I look at him, blink, then laugh. “Not wasting any time, are you?”
“Early bird and all that,” he says, already dialing as he walks toward the bed, which I haven’t attempted to get out of yet.
