Chapter 48
I stink.
The mattress beneath me is no longer comfortable. The lingering scent of Garrison’s cologne has rubbed off the sheets with how long I’ve been lying beneath them. Yet, I still can’t bring myself to crawl out of bed and go back to the real world. I haven’t in five days.
If I looked in the mirror, my reflection would be something from a horror film. I’ve long since stopped crying, but not because I’m no longer sad. I think I’ve just run out of liquid in my body.
Never have I felt so . . . sad. The things that always mattered to me simply mean nothing.
Staring up at the ceiling, I curl my toes in the silk sheets and sigh. I never thought I’d be here, debating never leaving the house again because I’m too heartbroken over a man.
The uneaten piece of buttered toast on the nightstand has been there since I forced myself into the kitchen this morning. I’m not hungry. The thought of food turns my stomach.
My phone is dead, lost in the blankets. After Garrison’s two-word reply to me the day he left, I let it die and haven’t touched it since. Fuck, that’s so immature. In any other circumstance, I’d be embarrassed with myself. I’m sure once I climb out of this funk, I will be.
When I hear the front door slam shut, I squeeze my eyes shut and pretend I don’t wish it was Garrison coming back for me. I pull the comforter up over my face and swallow the lump in my throat. There are two sets of footsteps thumping down the hallway, one for each of my best friends.
They took longer than I thought they would to come tell me off for throwing myself away. Maybe they hoped I would have been able to fix myself before they intervened. I wish I could have.
My nostrils flare as I sniffle, exhausted despite my time in bed. I want to sink into the mattress and have it swallow me up.
Pressure on the left side of the mattress has it sinking as one body joins mine before the same happens on my right. Anna peels back the comforter and curls into my side as Bryce moves to my other. Sandwiched between the two of them, I give in to the pain in my chest. I gasp, a catastrophic-level sob filling the room as I shake, soaking in the comfort they’re offering me.
Anna shushes me, squeezing me tight. Bryce sits against the headboard and pulls my head onto her lap, the fabric of her leggings soft against my cheek as I curl into a ball and cry. Hands rub my back, and fingers run through my knotted hair, their touches so gentle it only makes me cry harder. Every emotion I’ve dealt with on my own these five days hits me at full strength, as if I was only receiving a tease of it before.
“You’re okay, Poppy. You’re okay. Let it out, and then move forward. Feel it, accept it, and then let it go,” Bryce murmurs, her raspy voice sounding sweeter than it usually does.
“I miss him,” I whisper.
Anna hands me a tissue, and I use it to wipe my cheeks before my nose. “We know. You’re allowed to miss him.”
“It’s cruel.”
“It is,” Bryce agrees. “It really fucking is.”
“But you’re going to get through it. You’ve hidden away from the outside world for long enough. If you stay here any longer, you’re going to start to lose yourself. We’re not allowing that to happen.” Anna swaps the used tissue with a fresh one. “It’s time to move forward.”
“I don’t want to.”
“You owe it to yourself to nip this in the ass and continue on with your life. The studio needs you. All of the women who attend your classes are waiting for you to come back. You don’t have to be healed from this already—shit, you could take months to do that if you needed to—but you can’t keep yourself locked up in this house—in this room—forever,” Bryce says firmly.
“If you want to tell me that I stink, just do it,” I grumble.
Anna laughs lightly. “You reek, Pops. But that’s not why we’re here.”
Bryce stops brushing my hair with her fingers. “Five days is long enough to spend crying over a man. You don’t need him. Love and want him, yeah, but need him? Not a fat chance in hell. The only person you need is yourself. And right now, you need to pick yourself up and get in the shower.”
She’s right. I know it. But I still make no move to crawl out of her lap.
“I’m comfortable here.”
Flicking me in the ear, she scoffs. “Get your ass out of bed, Poppy. We’re going to get coffee.”
“When’s the last time you ate?” Anna asks.
“Yesterday.”
“And what did you have?”
“Toast.”
“Like the toast on your nightstand? I think I see some mold on it,” Bryce grunts.
“No, you don’t. I only made it this morning.”
Anna blows out a breath. “It doesn’t matter. Let’s just get you wet and soaped up. Your stink is burning my nose.”
Pushing myself into a sitting position, I flash her a scowl. “You’re supposed to be the nice one, Anna.”
“Tough love, baby,” she sings.
Bryce pats me on the back before moving off the bed and offering me her hand. Reluctantly, I take it and let her pull me up.
“She can be nice to you again once you’re back to normal,” she says.
Anna crawls across the bed and leans up on her knees to hug me from behind. I melt into her embrace, the tiniest smile pulling at my mouth.
“We love you, Pops.”
“No matter what,” Bryce adds.
I ignore how weird it feels to smile and nod. My emotions make it hard to keep from crying again. I’m far too fragile for all of this right now, but I love it all the same regardless.
“I’m going to shower,” I say before moving out of the comfort of their touches. “Then we’ll get coffee. My phone is somewhere in the sheets, if one of you wouldn’t mind plugging it in for me.”
Bryce’s eyes narrow. “Yeah, we’ll find your phone. But I swear to God, you better not let it die like that again when you’re like this. If you hadn’t been holed up in here instead of your house, I’d have been barging in after the first day when I didn’t hear from you. Eliza ensured us on more than one occasion that you were here and alive.”
Guilt burns in my gut. “Fair enough. Is that why she stopped by?”
She didn’t try to come inside, just knocked and asked if I was okay, and I didn’t think it was weird at the time. I just wanted to be alone. If she had asked to come in, I’d have felt like shit saying no, considering I’ve been staying here when really, I have no right to.
“That, and she was worried about you,” Anna says.
“She’s too sweet for her own good.” I scratch at my scalp, my dirty hair making it itch. “Alright, now I’m showering.”
“Have fun,” Bryce says, giving my back a shove.
The last thing I see before I disappear into the bathroom is Anna turning to root through the mess of sheets on the bed, searching for my phone. My heart aches at the thought of washing the sheets, but the only thing continuing to leave them dirty is going to do is remind me that Garrison is gone.
And he’s not coming back.
With an iced matchatea latte in one hand and the keys to Beautifully Bold in the other, I stride down Main Street with my girls flanking me.
A shower was definitely needed, and after standing beneath the hot stream for half an hour and washing my hair and body three times, I feel better. Still brutally raw, but not so broken.
The croissant I ate in the café hasn’t tried to fight its way back up, and I consider that another win. I’m feeling hopeful that that’s a good sign. I need to go home soon, but that’s a step I’m not quite ready to take yet.
“How long is Brody back for?” I ask Anna.
She sips her coffee over the rim of her cup. “He has a meeting in Calgary tomorrow, but after that, he’ll be here until August when his tour starts up.”
My eyes bulge as I swing my head to stare at her, trying not to trip over the cracks in the sidewalk. “Tour? What tour?”
“Nothing was finalized until yesterday,” she says, her cheeks pink. “We knew it was coming. The first one did so well they’ve expanded the number of cities this time around. We’ll be gone for three months and back before Christmas.”
“Three months? You expect me to make it three months without you?” I ask. It’s not surprising in the slightest that Anna’s decided to go with Brody. I would have done the same damn thing if that was my man.
I fight off a flinch.
“That’s what I said,” Bryce says.
Anna waves us off. “You made it decades without me before I moved here, in case you forgot.”
The swinging sign above BB becomes clearer with every step, and excitement swells inside me for the first time all week. I’m not dressed for any pole time today. Instead, I left the house in a pair of jeans shorts that would rip without a doubt if I attempted a single move on the pole.
The June heat came out of nowhere, though, and with each step I take, my thighs begin to chafe. Between that and my sweaty feet in my boots, I’m debating whether or not I should have been trusted to dress myself today.
I take a sip of my latte and toss my worries into space. “Whatever. What’s going to happen with the salon while you’re gone?”
“I was actually considering asking Rory to help. She mentioned not having much luck job searching, and honestly, I just need someone to keep an eye out. Make sure nobody leaves a straightener on one night and burns the place down or something, you know?”
“I could do that for you,” Bryce volunteers.
Anna flashes her an appreciative smile. “I know. But she’s looking for the work, anyway. It might be good for her.”
We reach the entrance to the studio, and I step in front of them to slip my key in the lock. “That’s still two months away, though. Surely she’ll have another job by then.”
The key slides in, but as I go to turn it, there’s no resistance. Pulling the key out, I look over my shoulder at Anna and Bryce.
“It’s already unlocked. Did one of you check on the place and forget to lock up?”
They shake their heads, and Bryce’s expression tightens as her protective side sparks. Nerves twirl in my stomach as I grab the handle and push the door open.
The last thing I expect to see when I step inside the studio is the familiar scowl of my landlord and the man in a pair of navy overalls and a tool box in his hand standing beside him. I freeze just inside the doorway, taking in the sight.
“Hello, Poppy,” Ralph says, his tone speaking volumes to how unimpressed he is to be here right now. It only confuses me more.
“Hi. What are you doing here?”
The man who I assume to be some sort of repairman slips away from my landlord and into the backroom, where the hot water tank rests. My confusion grows.
“Getting your hot water fixed,” he says sharply.
“I thought you weren’t concerned with it,” Bryce sasses from behind me.
Ralph ignores her, staring at me. “Yes, well, it seems Ms. Huntsly has been sharing her concerns with others. I came to the conclusion that it was in my best interest to get it taken care of before that concern grew troublesome.”
“It’s a hot water tank, not a damn full studio renovation,” Anna mutters, but I don’t react to her sarcasm.
Suddenly, I want to turn and run away before everyone can see me break down again. I don’t, somehow keeping my composure long enough to ask another question.
“When did you decide to get it fixed?”
Every second it takes him to answer makes my heart beat that much quicker. I fist my hands at my sides to keep them from shaking.
It’s been five days since Garrison left, and he hasn’t reached out once. Not after letting me know in only two words that he didn’t want me to reach out either. Surely he didn’t just speak to Ralph.
The old bastard doesn’t bother hiding his disinterest as he replies, “Yesterday. After a phone call I damn well wasn’t expecting. I didn’t appreciate it much either, Poppy. Legal threats were not what I wanted to listen to during breakfast.”
I feel my girls take a step closer, as if sensing the connection I’ve made and how deeply it’s affecting me. A laugh flies up my throat. A real one that surprises everyone in the room.
Giving Ralph my back, I close my eyes and grab Bryce’s hand and then Anna’s. Despite the riptide of emotions inside of me, I try to accept my heartbreak because while Garrison may be gone, there’s no doubt in my mind that he was being honest about loving me. Today proves that once again. Our two months together were beautiful. A gift that I need to treasure instead of wishing had ended differently.
Maybe that’s what he’s doing right now too.