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Me:You’re a piece of work, do you know that?
Freddie:I’m sure. But you’re avoiding the question. Are you on birth control?
Me:What happened to Freddie Bear? How come I got stuck with Arsehole Freddie today?
Freddie:I thought it was Frowny Face Freddie.
Me:I have plenty of names for you right now. But don’t worry, one of them won’t be Daddy. Yes, I’m on birth control.
Me:Oh and I’m also STI free as well. Just in case you care.
Freddie:Good to know.
Even though I’m fuming right now and my heart feels like it's breaking in two, I still can’t give up on him or us. I try one last time.
Me:Freddie, instead of shutting me out right now, why don’t you talk to me?
Freddie:There’s nothing to talk about.
Me:So the only thing you wanted to discuss about last night was whether or not I could be pregnant? Like that’s the worst situation that could come from this? Nothing else matters? Just that?
Freddie:Having a baby with you istheworst case scenario here, Phoebe.
And just like that, my heart breaks. Tears fall and my phone makes a splintering noise as it smashes against the floor.
BANG. BANG. BANG.
“Open up, Phoebe. Or I’m coming in.” Lola’s shouts are loud and clear, but, even though I know she’ll make good on her promise, I don’t move off the sofa. I’ve been curled in a ball here since yesterday's text conversation, only leaving my soft sanctuary to use the toilet and get wine; the essentials of course.
Keys rattle in the lock but I can’t be bothered to move so I stay put and wait for whirlwind Lola to enter the building.
“Are you sick? What's wrong? Why are you on the sofa?” She frowns down at me and then smiles and whispers, “Is Freddie here? Did you guys have a dirty weekend?”
I grunt my reply back to her and she flops down on the sofa, not caring that she’s currently sitting on top of my feet, and grumbles, “Well then, why are you on the sofa at nine thirty on a Monday? And why didn’t you answer my texts?”
I motion to the phone on the coffee table and reach my arm out to it, coming shy of it by about a foot. “If I can’t reach it from here then I don’t care. I only get up for bathroom breaks and wine now.” I ignore the shocked gasp that comes from her and carry on staring at the tv screen, but not really watching anything.
Lola grabs the remote from the table and turns it off. As the screen fades to black, I turn my head to look at her. Her eyes are shining with unshed tears, her bottom lip quivering, and she holds onto my blanket clad leg tightly, so I sit up and blow a sigh out. “Lola, I’m fine. Stop looking at me like that.”
“I’ll stop when you tell me what happened. I know you two left together and I would’ve been round here yesterday but I was sick…”
“You mean hungover,” I respond nonchalantly.
“Well, yeah, but whatever. I should have stuck to the plan and got Freddie drunk. Maybe if he had been, you wouldn’t be here all sad and mopey and he wouldn’t be clearing my calls.”
“He’s clearing your calls because he thinks I’ve blabbed, that’s why.” The pain and anger returns to my chest and I sit up quickly, trying to rid myself of it.
“Blabbed about what?” Excitement crosses her face and I don’t want to knock her back, but I have to let her know that her brother and I are never going to happen.
“Go and put the kettle on, make me a coffee, and I’ll grab a quick shower and tell you all about it.”
CHAPTER ELEVEN
Freddie
“Ihaven’t got fucking time for this!” I moan loudly when Lauren storms into my office and demands that I leave for the day. “I think you’ll find I own this fucking restaurant and I’ll decide when I fucking leave, Lauren.” I know I shouldn’t be dropping F-bombs like this and I’m taking my bad mood out on everyone, but I don’t fucking care. All I care about is Pheebs and how I screwed everything up.
Pheebs:It was nice knowing you, Freddie. Delete my number and forget you know me. Enjoy your restaurant, it’ll be all you have left soon.
