Chapter 38
thirty-eight
ASHER
The bar is almost empty. Mid-afternoon sunlight filters through the tall windows, catching on the amber swirl of whiskey in my glass.
It’s the kind of place that charges twenty bucks for a drink and another fifty for your regrets.
Hudson’s nursing a beer and watching me like I’m a ticking bomb, which to be fair, isn’t far off.
“She’s back in Liberty,” he says, breaking the silence. “Jesse told Skyler this morning.”
I nod. I already know. But knowing where Francie is doesn’t fix the fact that she won’t speak to me.
Won’t answer my messages. And for the first time in weeks I haven’t checked the lighthouse security feed.
I can’t. Because if I see her... and she looks like she’s better off without me, I don’t know what I’ll do.
“How are things with Skyler?” I ask, because to top everything else off, my decisions have caused problems in Hudson’s marriage. I pulled Skyler into this mess when she’s already dealing with enough.
“Furious.” His lips twitch. “And it’s so damn hard to make it up to a woman who can’t be bought with flowers or jewelry. I’ve spent the last two hours searching through a record store in the village for an original copy of Stevie Nicks and Lindsay Buckingham’s first album.”
I give him a sympathetic look. Skyler is a huge Fleetwood Mac – and Stevie Nicks – fan. I make myself a note to apologize to her for involving her in this mess.
Hudson takes a slow sip of his beer. “So are we going to talk about this, or are you just going to brood into that glass like Batman on a bender?”
I let out a humorless laugh. “You ever think maybe I’m not built for this?”
“For what?” he frowns.
“Relationships. My last girlfriend tried to steal my business from me. And my current – or possibly past one – thinks I’m the world’s biggest screw up.”
“You are.”
“Thanks.”
We exchange glances. Hudson lets out a sigh.
“I know you were only trying to protect her.”
“I was.” I nod.
“But you can’t go around thinking you can protect everybody and everything.” He runs his hand through his hair. “I learned that the hard way.”
When he pushed Skyler away after nearly losing his daughter. I remember it well. He was lost. Broken.
The way I feel right now.
“Yeah, well when you grow up learning that people either control you or leave you, it makes you choose the first one real fast.” My voice is thick.
“You’re talking about Dad.” His face softens. “I hate what he did to you.”
“To all of us.”
“But especially you. He exploited you. Used you. Left you in the dark, literally.”
I swallow hard, the panic of that day rising inside me again.
“He’s been dead a long time,” I say. “I can’t keep blaming him for my decisions.”
“You can if you let him be that voice in your head.” Hudson gives me a knowing look.
“Three years of therapy taught me that. He hurt you. I know that. And that was on him. But this?” He shakes his head.
“The decisions you make now are on you. Either you face up to it, or you lose what you care about.”
“I’m scared I’ve already lost her,” I admit. And there it is. The sick thud in my chest. The realization that it’s all my fault.
Not Francie’s. Not Shaun’s. Not even Annalise’s.
I could have told Francie what was going on. I could have involved her. Treated her like the strong woman she is. Like an equal.
Instead I was afraid. That little kid in the dark closet, willing to do anything to get out.
Hudson lets the silence settle for a moment, like he knows I need the space to breathe through it. To let the past roll over me one more time before I finally let it go.
“The way dad treated you wasn’t your fault,” he finally says.
“I know.”
“And the way he used Eden. That wasn’t your fault either.” His voice is firm.
I look at him. I want to believe him, but I let our sister down. I should have protected her. I knew what he was capable of. But instead I got out of Liberty as fast as I could.
And she paid the price.
“You know what sucks?” I say, my voice rough. “I spent my whole life building walls to keep people out. And then I met Francie and all I want to do is let her in. But I have no idea how. I don’t know how to stop myself from shutting down, locking her out.”
He nods. I know he gets me. But it’s not enough.
“Remember the day Autumn, Eden, and Francie dressed up as the Spice Girls for the Liberty Nineties Karaoke fundraiser?” I ask, my lips twitching despite everything.
Hudson groans. “Don’t remind me. Autumn had glitter in her hair for a week. And Francie…”
“Was Sporty Spice. She wore those god awful track pants and started talking with a British accent. And then she did that roundhouse and kicked Mylene’s cake display over.”
Hudson chuckles. “Now that was girl power.”
My chest tightens. Even then, she knew what she wanted. And for a brief while, that was me.
I was the luckiest man in the world. And I’m so in love with her it hurts.
But love can’t be about controlling somebody. Or sacrificing in the dark. It’s about knowing when to let somebody knock the cake table over and still cheering for them.
“Autumn called this morning,” Hudson says, breaking my thoughts. “I didn’t tell her anything. But…”
Another person I’ve pushed away. My stomach tightens.
“I’ll tell her.”
Our eyes lock.
It’s time to start cleaning up the mess I made. And fighting for what I want. In the light, in the open.
Where she can see me.
And where – if I’m really lucky – she’ll choose me.
FRANCIE
I’m sitting at my desk in the lighthouse, staring at my laptop screen, wishing the words would appear from nowhere so I can finish this book and go back to brooding.
It’s been two days since I got back to Liberty. Two days of trying to write, of dodging concerned texts from my brothers, and ignoring every single message Asher’s sent.
I took the ferry alone. Watched the island come into view through eyes that felt raw from holding back tears. And when Jesse picked me up at the dock, I smiled and told him I was fine, even though we both knew I was full of crap.
I’ve barely left the lighthouse since.
I told myself I needed space to write, but really, I needed space to breathe. To untangle the mess inside me. To stop hearing his voice every time I close my eyes.
The phone rings, and I almost don’t answer. But when I see Autumn’s name flash across the screen, something inside me shifts. She deserves more than silence. She always has.
I press accept and lift the phone to my ear. “Hey.”
“About time,” Autumn says, her voice warm and wry. “I was starting to think you’d ghosted me for good.”
The way she says it reminds me of Asher. The way he ignored me.
And I realize I’ve been doing the same to her. Avoiding talking to her, telling her what was happening.
I accused him of not thinking about what I want. But I’ve done exactly the same to Autumn. My best friend would want to know what’s happening. To be in the loop.
Instead, I excluded her.
“I was going to call you,” I say. “I just… there’s something I need to tell you.” Because even if this is all a mess right now, she deserves to know. I’m done hiding. And if she hates me for a while, so be it.
I’ll make it up to her somehow.
“Let me guess. It has to do with Asher.” Her voice is gentle, like she knows I’m feeling vulnerable right now. And this is why I love her.
“How do you know?” I rasp. Tears pool in my eyes. What a mess I’ve made of things.
“Oh sweetie, you sound like a wreck. Just like him. I figured something was up when you ghosted me harder than a bad Tinder date. But I didn’t think it was my big brother making you do it.”
“You’ve spoken to Asher?” Hope immediately rises in my chest.
“I did. I wasn’t supposed to say anything because he’s worried you’ll be upset that he told me. But honey, he’s broken. Seriously, I’ve never seen him so low.”
I press my lips together, trying to ignore the lump in my throat. “He shut me out.”
“I know,” she says. “And you were right to be angry. He knows that. But Francie, my brother cares for you in a way that terrifies him. He’s spent his whole life protecting people because nobody ever protected him.”
I close my eyes, her words hitting something deep inside me. She’s right. She’s always right.
“I’m sorry,” I whisper. “For not calling. For not telling you what’s going on. I shut you out and you didn’t deserve that.”
“No, I didn’t. And you owe me big time. When I get back to Liberty I’ll think of a way you can repay me.
” There’s warmth in her voice that makes my heart feel like it might heal.
“And trust me, I get it. Things get messy fast. But next time, just tell me. I have ice cream and bad decision wine, and I know how to use them.”
A watery laugh escapes my lips. “It’s a deal.”
But I’m still cringing on the inside.
I blamed Asher for keeping me in the dark, but I did the exact same thing to the person who’s been my anchor since I was twelve years old.
“Will you talk to him? When you’re ready?” she asks me.
My heart thuds against my ribcage. “I miss him,” I whisper. It’s like every corner of this place echoes with him. I can’t sleep in bed without imagining him beside me. Smiling that soft smile.
“You love him,” she says, like she can read my mind. Maybe after all these years she can.
Tears burn in my eyes. “I do.”
There’s a quiet moment between us. Then she clears her throat.
“He loves you too, Francie. Enough to break himself wide open. But maybe it’s time he let you help put him back together.”
My heart twists. The thought of him hurting makes me want to throw something. “How do you always know what to say?”
“It’s a gift. Now go finish that book, and when you’re done, finish your own story.”
I nod even though she can’t see me. “I will,” I promise.
We hang up and I set my phone down beside the laptop. A breeze flutters through the open window, lifting the edge of a sticky note Asher left me weeks ago.
You’ve got this.
It’s in his messy all-caps scrawl.
I smile. And then I hear it. The crunch of tires on gravel.
And when I look out of the window, there he is. Asher Fitzgerald, driving up the makeshift road in a black SUV.
And for the first time in days my heart doesn’t ache. It beats.
Maybe, just maybe, our story isn’t finished yet.