Chapter Twenty-Five
Faye - Three Months Later
When she reached the benches, her legs crying out with relief, she tilted her head back to the cloudy sky. A big grin stretched her face.
I did it.
A flock of ducks paddled towards her, puffing up their feathers and inspecting her hands for bread. The cold, crisp air nipped at her face, but her skin buzzed with adrenaline. Accomplishment. Another step closer to her goal.
I fucking did it.
Since her return from Sandy Springs, she’d started running three times a week, with the aim of raising money for the sanctuary.
Though the poachers had been caught, the centre was still struggling, and Faye wanted to help.
She wished she could say she was doing it for purely altruistic purposes, but she also desperately needed the distraction.
Pushing her body and working towards the goal of a half-marathon helped to avoid thinking about a particular woman who had stamped on her heart.
She grimaced as the ache resurfaced. Everything had happened so fast. The elation, the betrayal, the goodbye.
Faye wasn’t a masochist. She wasn’t going to let someone treat her like she didn’t matter—no matter how hot they were.
But it still hurt, like a hot scalpel scraping out her innards and slopping them on the pavement for the birds to feast on.
Leaving had seemed the best option in the moment.
She’d completed the course, and there was nothing left for her other than memories of Diana laced in every corner of her cabin.
So she’d stayed with Quin and left the island on the first boat in the morning, trying to avoid her dad’s many questions.
But getting away from it all without telling the woman how much she’d hurt her left the feeling festering.
She didn’t want their time on the island to be defined by that moment after the Fire Ceremony, for the title of nothing to be the lasting impression stamped on what the two of them had shared.
But did it even matter at this point? It had been three months of no contact.
Three months of viewing the university website and lusting over Diana’s profile.
In a way, Faye was relieved she didn’t have her number.
At least then she wouldn’t be tempted to call or send long texts to someone who didn’t care about her.
She’d been doing well. She was back at work, looking for apartments with Quin, and she’d just run her first 10k, for god’s sake.
Something she’d never thought possible with Crohn’s, never mind her ostomy bag.
Training wasn’t easy, especially in the beginning, when she’d had to watch herself for dehydration, a side issue with ostomies.
But her support belt was a lifesaver, keeping everything snug and secure, and once her body had got used to the idea of running, Faye loved it.
The adrenaline. The pain. The accomplishment.
Running was infinitely more productive than curling up in the dark in her room and daydreaming about what might have been if Molly hadn’t stumbled upon them. Because Diana hadn’t replied to Faye’s suggestion, but she had kissed her, and Faye thought that meant something.
She also denied it all and blamed it on you, her brain liked to remind her. Yep. There was that too.
She didn’t need Diana to make her feel good about herself.
Yes, she loved the feeling when she was with her.
The carefreeness, the confidence, the feeling she could do anything—but she could give that to herself.
All this time she’d been searching for the enigma, and she understood now. She’d always had it.
A man rode past on his bike, pinging his bell in greeting. That was enough to snap her out of her pity party. She began her cool-down stretches, trying to refocus her thoughts on anything that wasn’t the gorgeous blonde with impeccable posture.
“Stop thinking about her,” she scolded herself as she sank into a hamstring stretch. “It’s done now. If she wanted you, she’d have called.”
“Damn straight,” a woman quipped behind her. “You can’t waste time trying to catch the wind, love.”
Faye turned to the older woman sitting on the bench, a happy black schnauzer slumped across her lap. “Uh, thank you.”
She put a cigarette to her puckered lips, lighting it with a match, and exhaled. “Keep putting one step in front of the other.”
“I will. You too.” Faye gave her a smile and then started walking, putting the advice into literal practice.
She left the path and rejoined the road, the early morning air crisper now against her bare legs.
The sun had already risen, but a grey mist hovered, threatening rain.
Typical for her day off, but she could have been knee-deep in a bog observing frogs, so she’d not complain.
She blew out a breath, watching as the steam contorted in front of her, and forced her tired legs up the hill. She was doing okay—she was—but she couldn’t stop the niggle in the back of her brain, wishing that things were different.
She grasped the totem hanging around her neck, feeling its ridges.
The elephant. These gentle giants possess a phenomenal capacity to endure and overcome, Senhor had stressed.
Their immense physical strength and intelligence make them a symbol of resilience and perseverance.
The elephant teaches us to recognise our own strength and power.
Harness that, and rule in the stability that our inner voice and instincts bestow.
Faye wanted to believe that. In some ways, she did believe.
Life with her ostomy had become her new normal, but when it came to her emotions, they flew all over the place.
One moment, she was up on the runners’ high, one step closer to her half-marathon goal.
The next, she was standing in the courtyard, Diana crushing her heart in the palm of her hand.
What would an elephant do?
Other than stampeding across the Atlantic to drop a Titanic-sized poop on the woman’s head, Faye wasn’t sure.
She turned onto her street, rubbing the totem like it would suck out all the sadness sinking in her bones. She wanted to move on. But their last encounter played on a loop in her head. Had she been too rash? What might Diana have said if she’d waited?
But Diana hadn’t contacted her. Diana didn’t want her. It was over.
So stop thinking about her.
The metal garden gate squeaked as she flung it open, the steps up to the mint-green door still damp from the morning condensation.
In the hallway, she kicked off her shoes, placing them under the radiator to dry.
The familiar sound of Tracy and Edna Turnblad was playing in the kitchen, and the knots in her chest loosened a little, knowing the scene before she even opened the door.
The music grew louder, the fresh scent of pancakes hitting her in a beautiful waft. As predicted, Lukas and Quin were mid-dance to “Welcome to the 60’s” while David cooked batter in the pan, bopping his shoulders to the beat.
She’d barely had time to step foot into the kitchen before Quin tugged her towards them, encouraging her to twist her hips. Lukas held her other hand, the three of them bouncing in a circle—both more enthusiastic than her—until the song ended, to whoops and whistles from David.
“Alright, you lot.” David turned down the speaker with one hand, sliding a fresh pancake onto the pile with the other. “Breakfast is served.”
“Perfect timing, Faye,” Quin said as they took a seat at the table. “You made a great Mr Pinky.”
“Mr Pinky?” She scoffed, bending to stroke Mochi and Taco, who had come to see what the commotion was about. “I don’t even need to ask who you were in the Broadway production.”
“Well, duh.” They grinned. “Of course, I’m Tracy Turnblad. I’m lead role material.”
David took a seat next to Lukas. “I hope you’ve all worked up an appetite.” His kind eyes flicked to Faye. “How was your run?”
“I did it.” She forced her gaze to the stack of fresh pancakes, the smell making her salivate. David could see through her so easily, but she didn’t want to talk about Diana again. She felt like a broken record.
“That’s amazing!” Quin pulled her into a hug, knocking her elbow against the table. “You’re a superstar.”
“Well done,” Lukas echoed.
“Thanks,” she replied sheepishly, reaching for two pancakes and placing them on her plate.
She scooped up a heap of fresh strawberries and blueberries and then drizzled syrup generously over it all.
David’s eyes tracked her, worry etched into his forehead.
He’d need more to satisfy him. “And I’ve nearly raised 700 pounds for the sanctuary too. ”
“Wonderful.” He beamed, and some of the tension in her shoulders loosened. “I’m sure Riley will be thrilled with that.”
“Yeah,” Quin added. “That’ll be enough to give all the birds on the island a pedicure.”
Lukas cracked up, squeezing Quin’s shoulder before adding sugar to his stack of pancakes. Her dads had been amazing with Quin. Not that she’d had any doubt, but it hadn’t taken long for Quin to become another part of the extended family.
She sliced through her pancake, putting the sugary goodness to her lips.
Eating pancakes on a Sunday morning with people she loved, a job she adored, a life not confined to the four walls of her bedroom.
It was enough. So why did she keep thinking about the spare seat at the table and how Diana might fit into this dynamic?
She chewed slowly, no longer hungry. She knew what her problem was. She was still holding onto hope. That last thread tethered to the balloon was wrapped so tightly around her finger, she couldn’t let it go. Once the last strand was severed, banished to the atmosphere, that was it.
The end. Game over. Goodbye.
Senhor Arenoso had said that we need goodbyes to be able to transition. Faye needed closure, and no amount of running was going to give her that. She needed to speak with Diana. But how? When?
Diana confirming Faye’s every fear about the time they’d spent together was only going to set her back…but maybe that’s what she needed to sever the thread for good.
She finally swallowed her mouthful, the syrupy sugar too sweet for the churning in her belly. Truthfully, she didn’t think she’d ever be ready. Good job they were thousands of miles apart, and the chances of bumping into Diana at Tesco and having that conversation were slim to none.
So she smiled through the rest of breakfast, accepting it was going to be one of those days where even certain shadows reminded her of the woman who’d crushed her heart. Normally, her run helped beat those stray thoughts into submission; today, tiredness consumed her.
Tomorrow will be better, she told herself. And it normally was. Throwing herself into work, taking care of the local ecosystems and doing something useful always helped to shake the funk. Plus, she and Quin had a couple of apartment viewings lined up.
She’d miss her dads, though. And the cats. Every transition really did come with a goodbye. She looked up from her plate. The three of them were discussing Chappel Roan. Her dads exchanged a glance as Quin ad-libbed a verse about pancakes to “Pink Pony Club”.
The love was in the eyes. The way her parents watched each other without even realising it. Faye wanted that. She’d thought she had it.
Well, you didn’t. So stop moping.
She stood and collected the plates, scraping her leftovers into the bin and then stacking the dishwasher.
Mochi sauntered over, inspecting the contents.
After confirming there was no food to be had, she pressed herself against Faye’s legs, letting out a low chirp.
Faye plucked her up, running her fingers through her thick grey fluff.
She’d miss this little rascal, too.
“Oh, sweetheart, there’s some post for you on the side,” David said as he stood, moving the frying pan to the sink. Mochi wriggled from her grip, darting to the stairs in anticipation of getting fed—though judging by the plumpness of her belly, she already had been.
Lukas caught David’s elbow, guiding him away from the washing up and back to his seat. “Allow me.” He planted a kiss on his cheek. “Although…isn’t it still the newbie’s job?” He shot a playful grin at Quin.
“I’m already on bin duty. These nails aren’t made for manual labour.” They aimed a dramatic sigh towards Faye. “The quicker we move out, the better, huh?”
“I don’t know why you think that’ll change things,” she teased, plucking the stack of envelopes off the counter. “Bin duty suits you.”
The room filled with laughter as she sifted through the mail. A check-up letter for her smear test, a right-wing leaflet that she immediately tore up, and then a manila envelope marked with a Portuguese stamp.
Her breath caught. A letter from Portugal? She quickly dismissed the suggestion that it was a warrant for her arrest. It must be from the island. But why?
Just open it.
As her parents and Quin fell into another debate about the worst household chores, Faye ripped the envelope and slid out the paper inside.
A dozen different emotions rolled over her as she read the words, excitement winning, fizzling through her veins. She read it again, just to be sure, then finally released a breath.
This invitation could be the closure she was looking for.