When I’d left Jake’s that morning I’d gone straight home and showered. I’d needed to rid myself of him and everything he made me feel: Dirty. Cheap. Unworthy. Those three words had sprung to mind as I scrubbed away at my skin, removing every feel of him. I knew I was being irrational. It wasn’t like I wanted Taylor to know about our little arrangement. Still, it didn’t stop me feeling all those things and more when I thought back on what Jake had said.

Once I was satisfied that I could no longer feel him on my skin, I dried my hair, changed into some clean clothes, and made my way over to Frankie’s apartment. Knocking on the door seemed silly considering I spent most of my free time there, but it was my first inclination when I reached the bright white door. When she answered, she told me she’d be back in a minute and to grab a bottle of wine from the fridge. I did just that. With a bottle in one hand and two glasses in the other, I headed to the living room where I sat down quietly and waited for her to return. When ten minutes had passed without her appearance, I almost gave up, thinking that maybe she wasn’t ready to face me just yet. I felt relieved because I was almost certain that I wasn’t ready to face her at all. Especially after I’d spent the night with Jake. Not much got past Frankie, so it was only a matter of time before she found out. Then she'd call me stupid, which I already knew I was, and say I told you so.

Just as I stood to leave, she was back, wearing her comfy blue lounge pants and a baggy jumper.

“Sorry. Mum called.” She sighed. “I swear, one hundred goodbyes later and she finally hangs up.”

I laughed and held out a glass.

“Thanks, babe. I seriously need this after the day I’ve had.” She groaned.

“No probs. How’s your mum?”

Frankie shrugged and took a long swig of her drink. “She’s okay. I guess she’s still holding out hope that a miracle will happen. I hate that she’s building her hopes her like this. We all know it isn’t going to end well.”

Tucking my legs under my bottom, I turned to face her. “I think she knows that, Frank. If we don’t have hope then what’s left for us? If she’s anything like you she’ll be fighting until the very end. Don’t take that away from her in fear of her breaking.”

“I know,” she admitted, shaking her head. “You’re right. I’m being selfish. I guess I just hate the thought of her losing hope entirely. I mean, after Nana goes, I’m scared how her passing will affect her. You hear these stories about grief and what it can do to a person. It scares me.”

I nodded. I got that. I remembered feeling the same when Shawn passed away. I had always been a firm believer in hope, but when he went, I found myself questioning whether it was all worth it. Worth the desperate, tiring feeling that consumed you as you hoped for a miracle to happen. Was it really worth it? “She’s tougher than she looks. Besides, she has you,” I said through a smile.

“I know. I’m being silly. Ignore me.”

“Don’t do that.” I shook my head. “It’s okay to feel that way. In fact, it’s normal to feel that way. Just don’t ever feel like you can’t talk to me, or at the very least speak to your mum.”

“Thanks, Mel. I promise, the next time I have a meltdown I’ll speak up. Anyway, forget me. Where the hell have you been?”

“Just around.” I shrugged. I couldn’t tell her about Jake. Not then. We still hadn’t discussed her drunken ramblings from the other night. Bringing it up now felt like I’d be handing her another blow when she was already so messed up over Elizabeth.

“Okay. Spit it out. What aren’t you telling me?” she asked, her tone forceful and commanding.

“Nothing,” I lied. “Honestly.”

“If you say so. You’re obviously not ready to tell me, so how about we head into town and forget how miserable our lives are instead?”

“We’ve got work tomorrow, remember?”

“Since when has that ever stopped us?”

“Since Leanne became a bigger bitch than normal,” I said with raised brows.

“Oh, screw her,” Frankie said, wafting her hand in the air. “Who cares what her uptight arse thinks? I certainly don’t.” She shrugged.

“Grrr… Okay.” I tossed both hands in the air. “Fine, we’ll go, but if I’m late for work tomorrow, I’m holding you responsible.”

“And I will happily take full responsibility for it. Now, are we going or not?”

“Going,” I grumbled. “Just give me a second. There’s something I need to do.” I pulled my phone out of my back pocket, typed out a quick message and hit send. “There. Done. I’m ready.”