Chapter 19 Hestia
HESTIA
Almost a week back in London, and I was still a stranger in my home city.
Staying at a small budget hotel on the other side of Shoreditch, working from a nearby café run by a friend, I was more aware than ever that my situation was precarious at best. Thanks to my aggressive saving habits, built in early on in a bid to build any sense of security in my life post-uni, I had a sizeable lump sum put aside to work with.
But – if I was going to buy Cal out of our business, find myself a place and get some kind of new life together . . . shit was about to get expensive.
I’d resisted calling Diane, not quite able to bear the thought of upsetting her in the way I knew it would.
Away from the shock and anger of my first day back, the whole thing had actually felt incredibly .
. . sad. Seeing Cal locked in a toxic spiral; realizing I’d passively allowed myself to spiral with him for years, figuring that’s all there was for me.
Until . . . Wyoming. Jesse.
I slid my headphones on and nestled into the dim back corner of the café, blocking out the aggressively emo tunes.
Sienna, the manager and a longtime client of mine, winced apologetically from behind the bar.
I smiled, shrugging, knowing it was what her regulars wanted, knowing what I would do to counteract it.
So, against a backdrop of country music, I continued to unpick Cal’s trail of destruction.
Industrial cleaners were now booked to deep clean the studio in a couple of days.
I spent the next couple of hours reaching out to our crew of artists and existing clients – chatting briefly to some, emailing others, spinning the studio closure as a refurb.
As I paused after ordering some lunch, Jesse’s song started to play. I hesitated over the playlist, about to skip, but . . . couldn’t.
Every emotion from those last moments at the rodeo flooded back over me, replaying his tortured expression, the way he’d told me he loved me. It haunted me every night as I tried to get to sleep, sometimes lying there for hours, wondering if he regretted it, regretted me.
Holding my arm around myself, I opened my messages, reading the last few between us. Our proximity at the ranch had meant there weren’t many, but the few that were there . . . I could picture his easy, confident smile, the way it changed when he drew close to me. How he felt on me, in me . . .
I closed my eyes, digging my nails into my side.
I wanted to message him so badly. I wanted to speak to him, tell him everything, beg for forgiveness.
But without any solution, without seeing any way of going back to Wyoming .
. . wouldn’t we just be in the same place as before?
Wouldn’t it be selfish to message him now, rather than let him just forget and move on?
As my lunch arrived, my phone lit up, startling me out of my reverie.
Dee.
Staring at it in disbelief, I picked up.
‘Dee?’
‘Oh hey! Goddamn, it’s nice to hear your accent again,’ she giggled. ‘How’s home?’
I swallowed the real answer, not willing to risk a breakdown in public. In truth, hearing her Wyoming drawl was enough to trigger a lump in my throat as it was.
‘It’s so nice to hear your voice,’ I admitted, feeling her pause down the line, cursing myself for not disguising my tone better.
‘It’s been . . . fine, I guess.’ I shifted in my seat, grimacing at myself, knowing I couldn’t lie.
‘Actually, no. It’s been hard. I hadn’t realized how much I’d checked out of my own life. ’
‘Oh, honey, I’m sorry,’ she soothed. ‘We all miss you. Jesse most of all, I think. Still, you know how guys can just tuck it all away and get straight back on the horse, right?’
I hummed in agreement, another twist of pain at the mention of his name.
‘Listen, I had something I wanted to ask. The Collective open day was a huge success, a whole bunch of us have been talking about doing another one maybe. I know you’re back over there now, but if you were gonna come over again, there’s a big fucking queue of people here wanting your magic on their skin. ’
I blinked, not expecting it.
‘I was just thinking it over, you know, trying to join up some dots. I want to expand my own clothes line, swap out some of the branded stuff for my own. Better margins and all that. Your design did so well, I just wondered, with demand for your tattoo skills too . . . and Bailey told me about the whole volunteer idea Lil’s had for the Diamond Back.
I don’t know, I just think there’s so much space for you here, honey. ’
I felt a surge of gratitude for Dee, for thinking of me. For all of them.
‘Oh . . . I . . . yeah, I mean, that all sounds amazing,’ I began, trying to compute it against the backdrop of all I’d started organizing for the studio in the past week.
‘I just – I’m trying to sort things out here a little.
My ex – my business partner, he’s kind of fucked things up with the studio.
’ I sighed, suddenly deflated. ‘Then there’s visas and all of that stuff, even if I could come back. ’
‘Well, look, I don’t want to add any complication, but maybe just think on it. I just wanted you to know you had options, from someone . . . not quite so tied up in all the emotional stuff, you know?’
‘Thanks, Dee. It means a lot,’ I replied, feeling myself strain against the need to hold it all together.
We said our goodbyes, hanging up shortly after, a silence ringing in my headphones.
I stared at the screen, seeing her shop in my mind instead, the buzz of the Collective open day.
In a second, the Messages app was open, my last message to Jesse there on the screen.
Before I could stop myself, I tapped out a message.
I’m so sorry for how we said goodbye. What you said meant everything.
I paused, warring with myself, desperate not to hurt him further but needing him to know. I tapped send before I could delete it, adding:
Please take care of yourself x
The messages appeared in boxes on the screen, and then the tiny ticks below to show they’d been sent. As I half swiped to close the app, in the next second, a second tick appeared next to each message.
He’d read them. He was reading them right now.
I closed my phone, putting it screen facing down on the table, my heart racing as though he could somehow see me.
Wolfing down my lunch, I eyed my phone like an unexploded bomb, driving myself insane with wondering if he’d messaged back.
Glancing at the clock on the back wall behind me, I realized I had limited time left before meeting up with Lil as arranged earlier in the week. The thought of meeting Lottie’s blonde twin felt like exactly what I wanted and needed.
An hour later, walking into the pub I’d suggested, I spotted her immediately.
Head thrown back in laughter, she sat on one of the sofa seats, cowboy boot up on the edge of the coffee table in front, hand linked with a guy to her left. She looked every inch the cowgirl, and he looked every inch like he couldn’t believe his luck.
‘Howdy,’ I said, smiling as I approached, watching as she jumped up, her smile and mannerisms so incredibly Lottie that I felt a pang of sadness.
‘Hestia! Holy shit, girl,’ she said, stepping over the guy, who watched with amused curiosity as we hugged.
He was cute, with cropped brown hair and inquisitive eyes, an earring and an impressive full sleeve of tats on his left arm.
His fitted T-shirt left nothing to the imagination as Lil pulled me back, gripping my arms to look at me.
‘You are so damn pretty in person,’ she chuckled. ‘Jesse wasn’t exaggerating. I know we met on screen, but there’s only so much you can tell like that, you know?’
I smiled, shrugging.
‘Hey, I’m Jamie,’ the guy said after an affectionate glance at Lil. ‘I’ve heard a lot about you.’
‘I deny everything,’ I joked, giving him a brief hug too before sitting down, resisting the urge to check my phone again. The initial surge of adrenaline at knowing Jesse had read my messages had mutated into anxiety as nothing came back through in return.
As the three of us talked – them about their sightseeing, adventures in and around London and trips out to other parts of the country Lil had wanted to see – I found myself holding onto her voice. It was so unmistakably of her hometown; even the way she said ‘Jackson’ made me smile.
‘You know, I’ve got to admit that hearing you . . .’ I shook my head as I took a sip of my drink, suspecting I should’ve steered away from alcohol, the way it opened things up. ‘I really fucking miss the ranch. Everyone.’
‘Everyone, huh?’ she said, raising her eyebrows for a moment, watching my reaction.
‘Yeah, my hometown has that effect on people.’ She glanced at Jamie, smiling.
‘I was only telling him that before you came in. And look –’ She pointed to my cowboy boots with satisfaction.
‘I told you. Once you’re in, that place doesn’t let you go. ’
I smiled back, not needing to admit that I hadn’t been able to swap the boots out for my DMs or any of my other shoes.
‘So if you do get volunteers over there, on the ranch,’ Jamie started, tracing his finger on the back of her hand. ‘How are you going to get them to leave?’
Lil laughed again, her eyes lighting up as they met his.
I had to look away. The emotion was so obvious, so visceral that it felt like a slap.
‘Well, I’ll be needing security of some kind,’ she answered, her voice dipping as he smiled with her. ‘Hey, did I mention Jamie had an idea alongside the volunteering, Hestia? It falls in your wheelhouse, kinda.’
I shook my head, knocking back the rest of my drink, hoping it might numb the growing tension in my gut.
Jamie explained his idea, of offering a creative retreat at the ranch, of writers and artists coming to take some time out in the peace and sanctuary of the space there. It made complete sense. Yet more memories of sitting by the lake sketching came to mind.