7. Fran #2
“Is there someone I can call for you?” Dr. Okafor asks. “Family? Friends?”
I think about it. My parents are out, my father sold me into this marriage, and my mother went along with it. Logan’s family is worse. And Logan himself…
I don’t know what Logan knows. I don’t know if he understands what Sloane did, if he suspects anything, if he’d even believe me if I told him. He’s been defending her for months, dismissing my concerns, telling me I was overreacting.
Would he believe me now? After the fire? After she lied to him about where I was?
I want to say yes. I want to believe that almost dying would be enough to make him see the truth.
But I’m not ready to find out. Not yet. Not until I’ve had time to think, to plan, to figure out what I want.
“My husband,” I say carefully. “Can you tell me more about his condition?”
“He’s been in and out, but the doctors are optimistic.” She pauses. “Every time he surfaces, he asks about you. Quite insistently, actually.”
Logan asking about me. Logan in a hospital bed across the hall, worried about me.
“I’m not ready to see him,” I say. “Not yet. Can you - can you just tell him I’m stable? That I’m recovering? I need some time before…”
“Of course.” Dr. Okafor nods. “I’ll let the staff know. No pressure, Mrs. Davis. You focus on healing.”
***
The next day, I make my decision.
It comes to me slowly, in pieces, as I lie in the hospital bed and stare at the ceiling and think about everything that’s happened. The fire. Sloane’s confession. The pregnancy I didn’t know about until a doctor told me while I was still coughing up smoke.
I can’t stay here. I can’t go back to that house, that marriage, that life where I was invisible and lonely and married to a man who let another woman come between us. I can’t raise a baby in an environment where someone wants me dead.
And I can’t face Logan, not until I’ve had time to breathe and figure out who I am without him.
“I want to be discharged,” I tell the nurse who comes to check my vitals that morning.
“The doctor wanted to keep you another day or two. For observation.”
“I understand. But I want to leave.” I keep my voice calm, certain. “I’ll sign whatever paperwork is necessary.”
The nurse hesitates, then nods. “I’ll get Dr. Okafor.”
Dr. Okafor tries to talk me out of it, gently, professionally, with all the right concerns about my health and the baby’s development.
But she can’t force me to stay, and eventually she agrees to discharge me with a list of warning signs to watch for and instructions to follow up with an OB as soon as possible.
“Is there somewhere safe you can go?” she asks as she signs the paperwork. “Someone who can look after you?”
“Yes.” I think of Bree, of Marigold, of the one door that won’t ask the wrong questions. “I have family.”
“Good. Take care of yourself, Mrs. Davis. And congratulations - on the baby, I mean. Whatever else is happening, that’s something worth celebrating.”
I’m not sure I agree. But I nod anyway, because it seems like the right thing to do.
Before I leave, there’s one more thing I have to do.
I sit on the edge of my hospital bed, my bed, the one I’ve been recovering in, and slip my wedding ring off my finger. It comes off easily. I’ve lost weight these past months, from stress and misery and the slow erosion of hope.
I hold it for a moment, this small circle of metal that was supposed to mean forever. Then I set it on my pillow. A message. A goodbye. The only words I can give him right now.
Logan is across the hall. He’s alive, he’s stable, and that’s all I need to know. I’m not ready to see him. Not ready to face whatever conversation would follow, the questions I can’t answer, the explanations I don’t have, the look on his face when he realizes I’m leaving.
Maybe that makes me a coward. Maybe I should walk across that hallway and tell him everything.
But I can’t. Not while everything still feels this raw.
I gather my things, borrowed clothes from the hospital’s donation bin, since everything I owned burned in the fire, and I walk out of my room without looking back.
Theo is waiting in the parking lot.
I called him an hour ago, asking for help, and he came without asking questions. He’s the only person I trust right now, the only Davis who ever bothered to stand next to me at a party.
“You’re sure about this?” he asks as I climb into his truck.
“I’m sure.”
“Logan’s going to be devastated.”
“I know.” The words hurt coming out. “But I can’t - Theo, I can’t explain everything right now. I just need to go. I need time.”
He’s quiet for a moment, his hands on the steering wheel. Then he nods. “Where?”
“The bus station. I have somewhere I can go - somewhere safe. But I need you to not know where, Theo. So you can’t tell him.”
“You want me to not know on purpose.” He shakes his head. “At least let me drive you wherever it is.”
“The bus is fine. I just need to get out of here before-” I stop, not sure how to finish. Before I change my mind. Before someone stops me. Before I have to face everything I’m running from.
“Okay.” Theo starts the engine. “I won’t push. But Fran - when you’re ready - you should know that whatever happened, Logan cares about you. More than he knows how to show.”
“I know he does.” That’s what makes this so hard. “I just don’t know if caring is enough anymore.”
“Will you at least let me know you arrived safely? You don’t have to say where. Just - a text that says you’re okay.”
“I can do that.”
The bus station is gray and unremarkable, just a covered bench and a parking lot on the edge of town.
Theo waits with me until the bus arrives, not pressing for details, just being present in a way that Logan never learned to be. When the bus pulls up, he hugs me carefully.
“Take care of yourself,” he says.
“I will.”
“And Fran-” He hesitates. “Whatever you’re not telling me can stay yours. But if you need anything, you call me. Day or night. Understand?”
“I understand.” I pull back, blinking away tears I didn’t expect. “Theo, when Logan asks - and he will ask - just tell him I’m safe. Tell him I’ll be in touch when I’m ready. That’s all you know, because that’s all I’m telling you.”
“He’s going to be frantic.”
“I know. But I need time. I need to figure things out before I can face him.”
Theo looks at me for a long moment, clearly torn. Finally, he nods.
“I’ll tell him you’re safe and that you’ll reach out when you’re ready. That’s it.”
“Thank you.”
“Don’t disappear forever, Fran. Whatever went wrong between you two - don’t just vanish.”
“I won’t vanish.” I pick up my bag, a small duffel Theo brought from somewhere, filled with basic necessities. “But when I come back - if I come back - it has to be on my terms. Not his.”
I board the bus before I can change my mind. Find a seat near the back, next to the window. Watch the town disappear behind me as the bus pulls onto the highway.
I put my hand on my stomach, flat and still, and think about the life growing inside me. The life Logan doesn’t know about. The life I’m going to have to figure out how to protect, how to nurture, how to raise.
“We’ll be okay,” I whisper to the baby I can’t feel yet. “Whatever happens, whatever it takes. We’ll be okay.”
The bus heads toward Marigold, toward Bree, toward whatever comes next.
And I don’t look back.