Chapter fifty-eight
freya
I don’t sleep a wink. I drift in and out of something that feels like sleep but isn’t, my brain refusing to fully switch off, replaying the same image over and over again until it feels like it’s burned into the back of my eyelids.
I wake up more tired than when I went to bed.
My phone is still on the pillow beside me.
No missed calls. No messages. My eyes start to sting, which is ridiculous, because last night I was convincing myself I didn’t even want him to call.
Now I’m annoyed he didn’t. Make it make sense.
I roll onto my back and stare at the ceiling for a moment, trying to gather myself before the day starts, but my thoughts are already running ahead of me. He’ll call today, and then what? What do I say? “Hi, how was your night giving Cartier bracelets to your ex?”
I let out a short, humourless laugh and sit up, dragging a hand through my hair. No. I’m not doing this over the phone. I need to see him. I need to look at his face when he answers.
My phone buzzes. My heart jumps again, the traitor that it is. Exquisite timing as always, Rory. I roll my eyes. I stare at his name lighting up the screen. Let it ring. Let it ring. I tell myself, forcing myself not to answer it. It stops. Thank God.
The silence that follows feels louder than the ringing.
A second later, it lights up again. For fuck’s sake.
He’s calling back. Answer it. Just answer it.
My brain is now joining my heart on the traitorous side.
I watch it ring out again, my thumb hovering uselessly over the screen until it goes dark.
Almost immediately, a message comes through.
Rory: You okay?
I swallow.
Rory: I got back late. Fell asleep. Sorry I didn’t call.
Another message.
Rory: Can I come over later?
My stomach twists. Because part of me wants to say yes and wants him here so I can just look at him and know. But the other part… The louder part… Is already protecting me. Already pulling back. Already building distance.
Freya: Not feeling great today. Early night I think.
The lie sits heavy the second I send it. There’s a pause.
Rory: Alright. Feel better soon. Let me know if you need anything.
That’s it. No pushing. No questioning. Just…
that. And for some reason that makes it worse.
I stare at the message for a long time, my throat tight.
Because if he’d pushed… If he’d insisted…
Maybe I would have broken. Maybe I would have told him.
Maybe I would have felt like I’d got it all wrong.
Instead, I’m left here with my own thoughts.
Which is the worst place to be. Why wouldn’t he push to see me?
Maybe it is what it looks like and he’s going to go back to Sienna. Fuck.
I toss my phone onto the bed and press my hands over my face. I lie back again, staring up at the ceiling.
What if I’ve been completely stupid? What if this whole thing…
Was just a moment for him? Something easy.
Something temporary. Something that fits into his life when it’s convenient.
And then he steps back into that world like nothing’s changed.
Like I never happened. I turn onto my side, pulling the duvet up slightly even though I’m not cold.
I don’t text him again. I don’t call him back. And I definitely don’t want to see him.
It’s Monday morning. Again. It’s funny how, even when you’re deep in emotional turmoil, weekends seem to fly by in the blink of an eye.
By the time my alarm goes off, I feel like I’ve been hit by a bus.
My eyes burn. My head feels heavy. And my eyes still feel stingy, like I could cry at any moment.
Theo chatters beside me as I get him ready for school, completely unaware of the storm going on in my head, and I cling to that normality more than I probably should.
“Can we have pasta tonight?” he asks, pulling on his shoes.
“Yeah,” I say automatically.
“With garlic bread?”
“Of course.”
“Best day ever.”
I smile faintly. If only it were that simple. If only the only decisions you had to make as an adult were what you wanted for dinner.
The school run is a blur. I drop Theo off at his classroom, giving him an extra squeeze before he disappears inside, and for a second, I consider leaving straight after.
Calling in sick. Avoiding everything. Avoiding life.
Avoiding him. But I don’t. Because I can’t.
I can’t mope around at home, wallowing in my thoughts any longer.
So instead, I take a breath and walk through the school gates like everything is completely normal.
The things I’ve dealt with over the years have given me this unique ability to put on a mask and roll with it.
Today’s mask will be happy, normal, bubbly Freya.
The Freya who’s heart isn’t doing something strange in her chest. The Freya who’s not replaying the same image over and over again.
I don’t see Rory. Which is both a relief and… not. Because part of me wants to see him. Just to know.
The day drags. I go through the motions, helping with reading, sorting worksheets, gently reminding children to sit still and focus, but my mind is elsewhere the entire time.
Hannah finds me in the staff room just before lunch. She takes one look at me and sighs.
“You didn’t sleep.”
“No.”
“Did you speak to him?”
“No.”
She raises an eyebrow.“Freya.”
“What?”
“You need to talk to him.”
I shake my head. “What’s there to talk about?”
“Everything.”
“I saw it, Hannah.”
“You saw a photo.”
“I saw enough.”
She leans against the counter, studying me. “Did you ask him?”
“No.”
“Then you don’t know.”
“I know what it looked like.”
“That doesn’t mean it is what it looked like.”
I let out a breath, rubbing my temples. “I just… I can’t go into this blind.”
“Then don’t,” she says gently. “Ask him.”
I don’t reply. Because I don’t know if I’m ready to hear the answer.
By the time the final bell rings, my nerves are shot. I step out onto the playground, scanning automatically for Theo, and I spot him almost instantly. Relief washes through me. He runs over, wrapping his arms around me.
“Mum!”
“Hey, baby.”
I hold onto him for a second longer than usual, grounding myself in something certain.
Something safe. Then I look up and spot Rory standing across the playground, looking straight at me.
For a second everything else fades. Because he looks…
normal. Relaxed. Happy to see me. Like nothing has changed.
And that… That hurts more than I expect it to. Because everything has changed for me.
Theo tugs my hand. “Can we walk with Rory and Isla?”
My stomach drops. “Um…”
But it’s too late. He’s already pulling me forward. Rory meets us halfway.
“Hey,” he says, his voice warm.
“Hi.”
My own voice sounds different.
His brow furrows slightly. “You okay?”
“Yeah. Just tired.”
He studies me for a second like he knows. Like he can feel the shift in me.
Theo and Isla immediately run ahead, talking loudly about something I don’t catch.
Rory steps closer. “What’s going on?”
“Nothing.”
“Freya…”
“I said nothing.”
The words come out sharper than I intend which makes him stop in his tracks. I keep going for half a second before he wraps his hands gently around my waist.
“Freya,” he says quietly.
I don’t look at him. Because if I do, I might crack. “What?” I ask, my voice tight.
“What’s going on?”
I swallow. The words sit there. Right on the tip of my tongue. I could say it. I could just turn around and say: I saw you. But I don’t. Because Theo and Isla are just ahead, laughing. This is not the moment. So instead, I pull my wrist gently from his hand.
“Not here,” I say quietly.
His expression shifts to confusion and concern.
“We’ll talk later.”
And then I walk ahead, leaving him standing there for a second before he follows.
The rest of the walk is quiet and all I can think is that I don’t know what’s worse; What I saw or the fact I’m too scared to ask him if it’s true.