Echoes of the Heart, Casey, L.A. [reader novel .txt] 📗

I had ever spoken to Anna Porter and I’d be damned if she didn’t know where to stick the knife in and just how much to twist it to rip me apart.

“I didn’t know you and Frankie were such good friends.”

“We’re not.” Anna looked me up and down. “I always thought she was an uptight prude, but I was ignorant to the tough life she has lived. I thought she was boring and lived to work but I was wrong. She devoted most of her life to her dying mother, she was always on hand to help Joe, me, my sister and Deena with shifts here at Mary Well’s and when you came home, she gave up everything for you without blinking. In the past two weeks her mother has died, she buried her, she was humiliated in front of thousands of people, but you know what? She still gets up every day and comes to work with a smile on her face. She’s been knocked down in life more than someone like her deserves, but she keeps getting back up. I think she is wonderful and I’m working now to befriend her because I really think she could use one . . . don’t you?”

“Yes,” I answered instantly. “I do.”

“Good.” She dropped her cigarette and stood on it. “Go around back, I’ll send her out to see you.”

“I can’t go inside?”

“Your relationship has played out in public enough, don’t y’think?”

My shoulders slumped. “You’re right, it has.”

Anna turned and walked towards Mary Well’s entrance.

“Anna,” I called. “Thank you . . . for sticking up for her. Take care of her while I’m gone. Please.”

She didn’t turn around, but I saw her head nod in acknowledgement. I exhaled a breath, removed my hands from my pockets and flexed my fingers. I felt nervous. I wished I had weed to relax because I was so fucking jittery but I didn’t want to smoke in front of Frankie. I knew I shouldn’t have snorted before I came here . . . I just couldn’t help it. I walked around to the back of Mary Well’s and glanced out at the ocean. Off to the left, up the beach, was the pier.

Mine and Frankie’s pier.

I looked at the back door when it opened and the second I saw her I had to force my feet to remain rooted to the spot. Her eyes were a little wide as she closed the door without taking them off me. Instantly, I was worried for her. She had dark circles under her eyes and her cheek bones were a little more prominent that usual. Was she eating? Sleeping? Her bruising from Owen’s attack was nearly healed, the cut above her eyebrow was just a thin line now.

“You’re going back to LA?” she asked. “Anna said you were.”

“Yes,” I answered. “I am.”

Her chin did that small, cute little quiver it always did before she began to cry. My instinct was to step forward, wrap my arms tightly around Frankie’s body and pull her into my embrace but I couldn’t do that. I came here to say goodbye to her and that was exactly what I was going to do.

“I have to go,” I said. “Me being here has caused nothing but trouble.”

She didn’t disagree with me. I shoved my hands deep into my pockets because I was tempted to reach out and touch her stunning face, to curl my finger around her ginger hair. I could see that the last couple of weeks had taken a physical toll on her but she looked as beautiful as ever to me. Maybe because I knew this was probably the last time I would see her.

“Are you going back to rehab?” she quizzed. “I want you to leave right now if you aren’t.”

After everything I had done to hurt her, she still wanted me to get sober and healthy . . . I really didn’t fucking deserve this woman. Her heart was too big, too pure to be wasted on someone like me.

“I am,” I said. “I’m due to check in as soon as I land in LA.”

“Which is when?”

“I leave in about four hours.” I swallowed. “When I leave here, I’m going straight to Heathrow.”

Frankie’s hands flexed, then she shivered.

“Maybe you should go back inside,” I suggested. “It’s warmer in there.”

“I’m not cold,” she said. “I’m just shaking.”

I didn’t know what to say to that.

“You’re gonna be okay,” she said to me. “You’re gonna get sober again.”

“You think so?”

“I know so.”

I smiled, she trembled.

“I’m sorry, Frankie. I’m sorry for all the hurt I’ve put you through.”

She wrapped her arms around her waist.

“I know you are,” she said. “I’m sorry I wasn’t more forthcoming with you. Things wouldn’t have been so crazy if I had just been honest with you. I hurt you too. I wish I had done things differently.”

I shifted. “Hindsight is a great thing, huh?”

She lightly chuckled. “Tell me about it.”

My eyes rolled from her face to her medical ID and I paused when I realised she had two rings on the chain.

“Are those . . . ?”

She looked down and touched them with fondness.

“My parents’ wedding rings,” she looked at me, smiling sadly. “Michael gave them to me after the funeral. We buried Mum with Dad, and Michael felt it was right that I hold on to their rings.”

“I’m glad you have them and that you’ll keep them close.”

“Me too, Risk.”

“I hate that I’m doing this,” I said. “Jesus, Frankie, I hate it. I don’t wanna say goodbye to you.”

“You can say it without it being final, you know?” she said. “Neither of us know what the future holds. I know that now, it took me a long time to realise no matter how much I overthink or fear something, I can’t control whether or not it will happen.”

That sentence alone gave me hope that I didn’t know if I deserved.

“I read all of them,” I said. “I read every message you sent me maybe a dozen times over the past eight days.”

“You have?”

“Yes.”

“D’you believe me that I never