19 Jamie
My chest still feels raw, scraped hollow. I’ve stopped crying, thank fuck, but the adrenaline under my skin won’t settle. I can’t really think or speak. I just sit there and listen to this surreal conversation happening around me.
Christian practically barks at her- demanding to know where she’s been.
“I- I’m not ready to talk about that,” she says.
I feel Christian tense beside me, then he exhales sharply, almost a laugh. “So what? You disappear- no trace- and now you won’t even tell me what the fuck happened? Where you were? What you’ve been doing all this time?”
“I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to hurt anyone,” she says, her voice shaking.
“Didn’t mean to hurt anyone?” His voice sharpens.
I sit up slowly, dragging in a breath and watch him.
“You broke us, Francesca,” he says, quieter now but just as angry. “You don’t just get to walk back in and pretend that didn’t happen.”
Her eyes fill with tears. “I’m sorry. I just… Gary- he wouldn’t stop.”
“Gary has no power anymore,” he snaps. “You’re an adult. He can’t touch you. He can’t hurt Gram- ” his voice catches, just barely. “So what the fuck is the problem now?”
I’ve never seen him like this- not even when I’ve fucked up. Not even when Gary was hurting her. Then it was always controlled, planning, calculated. This is… not that.
“It’s- just- ” she starts. “I was trying to protect you.”
“Protect us?” he asks, shaking his head. “Do you have any idea what the last three years have looked like?”
“I know leaving probably hurt you-”
“Probably hurt us?” A short, disbelieving laugh escapes him. “You have no fucking idea.”
She flinches.
“I just-” Her voice cracks. “I should go-”
“What the fuck was the point of coming back if you're not staying, Francesca?” he roars. The room is silent for a moment.
“Christian-” she starts.
“No.”
The word cracks through the room.
“No. Fuck this.”
He turns and storms out.
A second later, the front door slams. Then I hear his car start and peel out.
And just like that, I can't breathe again.
I can’t be here. Not without him. Not with her. It’s too much. I push myself to my feet, but when she moves toward me, I instinctively step back. Like touching her might burn. “I- I’ve gotta go,” I mutter.
And I’m gone.
For the first time in my life, my parent’s place feels like a safe haven. I practically sprint across the street crash through their front door, then just stop.
My mom barely looks up from the couch.
No reaction.
Doesn't notice that I'm fucking dying right in front of her.
I need...
I drag a hand over my face, trying to breathe.
I need Christian.
The realization hits hard enough to steal my breath. I need him. To explain what the fuck is going on. To help me make sense of it. To sit me down and force me to breathe.
I need him to handle this.
But he left. I know he's not gone. Not really. Not the way Frankie was. But my heart doesn't seem to understand the difference.
All it knows is that he walked away. And now I feel like someone's reached into my chest and ripped something out.
I hear Ryan's little brother laughing somewhere outside.
Ryan.
“Mom, I need your phone,” I say, already taking it from her hand as I stumble through the house toward the backyard.
My hands shake as I type.
Me: It’s Jamie. She’s back.
The dots appear. Disappear. Come back.
Then the phone rings.
“She’s back?” His voice is cautious. Careful.
“Yeah,” I say. “It’s- fuck. I don’t know. I need to get out of here. Meet me at Conrad’s?”
A pause.
“Yeah. Twenty.”
I hang up.
I smell like shit. I need a shower. Sleep. Something. But I’m not going back there.
I grab one of my dad’s shirts, throw it on, toss the phone back to Mom, and head out.
I don’t look at her house.
I just run.
~
By the time I get to the bar, I've managed to pull myself together a little. The catastrophic spiral has slowed from a screaming freefall to a steady panic.
But when Ryan walks through the door, something inside me finally settles.
Not completely.
Just enough to breathe.
I haven’t seen him since the funeral. Before that… I don’t even know. A year? More? He texted me on my birthday. I didn’t answer.
But seeing him now- it feels like oxygen.
His eyes scan the room, he sees me, then keeps scanning as he approaches.
“She’s not here,” I say.
He exhales, shoulders loosening as he drops into the seat across from me. “So where is she? What happened?”
I flag the waitress down and order a drink. It’s barely noon.
Whatever.
“She saw Gram’s obituary and came back,” I say. “I don’t think she meant to see us.”
Ryan frowns. “So where did you see her?”
I scrub a hand over my face. “She set the alarm off. At Gram’s. I went over there and she was there and I just… lost it. Completely.”
“What do you mean?”
“I mean I couldn’t breathe. Couldn’t stop crying. It felt like something was ripping me open from the inside.” I shake my head. “Then Christian showed up, they fought, he left and I just… I just ran.”
“Fuck.”
I look up at him. “It’s not how I thought it would be.”
Ryan doesn’t say anything, just takes it in
“It made everything worse,” I add.
His brows lift slightly and I take a long drink.
“And Christian- I’ve never seen him like that. He was so mad.”
Ryan pulls out his phone. “He just texted. Asked me if I knew where you were.”
“I don’t have my phone,” I mutter. “Tell him we’re here.”
We sit in silence after that. It’s not awkward, not even after all this time apart. It just feels heavy.
After a minute, Ryan clears his throat.
“I’m sorry I left.”
I shrug. “Yeah, well… I get it. I probably would’ve done the same thing if I could. I just didn’t have anywhere to go.”
“It was shitty. I was hurting and I ran. Just like she did. And I shouldn’t have done that to you.”
“Whatever.” I shrug again, but something twists in my chest anyway.
He leans forward. “I mean it, Jamie. You’re my best friend. I love you. Whatever happens with her- I want you back in my life.”
My throat tightens. Jesus. I’ve already cried more today than I have in years, and I’m dangerously close to doing it again.
The door slams open and Christian storms in.
Relief hits me so fast it's almost embarrassing.
His eyes find me immediately and he crosses the room without looking anywhere else.
“Are you okay?”
I nod.
It's all I've got.
His shoulders loosen just slightly.
Then he finally looks at Ryan.
“He told you?”
Ryan nods. “Yeah.”
Christian drags a hand through his hair, tension still riding him hard.
“I need a drink.”