“This bed is so uncomfortable,” he whispered.
“Thank God some guy let me crash in his.”
“His bed must be really cold and lonely, because you are a sweaty little space heater and now there’s just an Ophelia-shaped divot in the mattress.”
“That feels like it should offend me.”
Frankie dipped down and lifted the sweater just enough to kiss the sliver of my exposed stomach. “You are so perfect I’m not entirely sure I’m not dreaming.”
My eyes fluttered closed. “That’s better.”
Because we woke up naked and hungover in a hotel room and had to opt for a late checkout to make sure there was enough time to drag Tyler Swan and his guests out of bed, I hadn’t eaten all day. My stomach started making whale noises as a result.
“There’s a burger with your name on it out there.” Frankie sat up, bringing me with him by my limp arms.
“Bacon?” I mumbled.
“And extra crispy fries.”
“With—”
“A cup of ranch on the side. I even opened up the box so it didn’t get soggy while you hid in here under the bed.”
My gut did this hollow thing that felt like it was swallowing itself and emotion like heartburn delved deeply into the cave of my chest. “Be mean to me.” I gripped the collar of his shirt. “Do something really fucked up and cringy so this is easier for fuck’s sake.”
“No.” He chuckled. “No, I can’t. I’m being selfish, but if it’s hard for me it’s gonna be hard for you, too. You can hate me for that.”
“That’s what she said.”
Frankie blinked hard, shaking his head. “Get out.” He brought me to my feet and nudged me toward the door. “The most incredible thing is that I’m not even surprised in the least.”
41
Small talk is tedious and awkward, even more so when everyone is walking on eggshells around you. No one brought up Colorado, or flights, or asked if I was all packed up to go. We mostly ate in silence with the radio filtering in the background and an occasional comment about the night before.
I was grateful I didn’t have to pretend I was looking forward to returning home when I was clearly dreading it. Instead, Frankie ate with one arm tucked behind my chair, our knees bumping beneath the table. He stole my fries, I helped myself to his beer. Natalia complained about the quiet after a while and filled the void with wedding chatter, ring choices, honeymoons, guest favors.
Then Mateo offered to do the dishes for the sheer excuse of not talking about wedding details. Frankie saddled up next to him and the two of them did the slowest washing of dinner plates and silverware I’d ever clocked while Natalia and I collapsed onto the couch with the Swans. Both of whom were still exhausted and hungover from the night before and would have much rather been back at the house in bed recovering.
Eventually the two arms that had begun to feel like home slid around me from behind, warm lips found the soft, tender side of my neck, and I knew without words it was the beginning of a goodbye we’d been avoiding for more time than was borrowed.
Nat squeezed my knee.
“I think it’s about time we head out of here,” Mateo said gently. He stood at the edge of the living room, rubbing his hands together. Tyler and Sam groaned as they peeled themselves off the couch and my heartbeat picked up inside my chest.
“Girls,” Tyler said, shuffling over to Natalia and I and pulling us each into a bear hug. “It’s been a pleasure-filled few days. We’ll see what kind of trouble we can get into next time.”
Sam nudged his brother out of the way, giving us each a friendly kiss on the cheek. “We’ll see you in a few months. Safe flight, O. And if you ever need something, Salt Lake is a quick trip away.” He winked at a hardly amused Frankie as he let himself out.
“Mateo.” I grinned, outstretching my arms toward him. “Thank you for all the kind hospitality.” He hugged me hard, squeezing my shoulders, rocking us off-balance back and forth. “You’re welcome for all the beautiful Christmas decorations.”
“They’re so beautiful I’ll probably just keep them up until next year.”
“I’m sorry I almost burned down your house making cookies. And for stapling a pineapple to your siding.” I winced. “And for walking in on you having Santa sex with Natalia.”
“Let’s forget about that,” Frankie chimed in.
“No one forgets these tits,” Nat acknowledged.
Frankie rubbed a palm down his face. “Then let’s make a conscious effort to keep this little secret between the four of us, yeah?”
“I’m good with that.” I raised a hand.
Nat shrugged. “That’s fair.”
“And thank you,” I added, “for letting me be here for one of the most important moments of my best friend’s life. She picked a good one.”
Mateo pulled me in for another more emotional embrace. “You’re family,” he said. “Wouldn’t have had it any other way.”
Frankie and I found each other across the room and the air fell silent. That little muscle in his jaw was jumping on an otherwise indifferent face. I couldn’t school myself like he could. My lip quivered despite worrying into it with my teeth, and emotion scrunched my nose.
“We’ll give you guys a minute,” Nat said, backing toward the front door.
No words felt significant enough to eclipse what the past three weeks had meant to me. The more I tried to string it together the harder it was to articulate, until I was just shaking my head with fragile little tears clouding my eyes.
“Baby.” Frankie enveloped me, closing me into the cave of his arms with my head pressed into the center of his chest. “Please, don’t.”
“I think I’m about to get my period or something.” I shrugged, hiding my red nose in his cotton T-shirt.
He let me have the excuse, instead running his fingers through the tangled waves of my hair, caressing my spine, swaying us gently on an invisible gust of wind.
“We don’t really have to say bye, you know,” he murmured. “I’ll be there before you know it, the end of the month. I’ll call you, and you can let me take you somewhere fancy for dinner.”
His heartbeat rang in my ears. “And then what?” I asked vulnerably. “A couple weeks? A few more months?” Frankie’s hold on me tightened, his fingers halting in place. “Am I waiting for something to be real between us, or am I just prolonging the end?”
“This is real, Ophelia.” He lifted my chin and I couldn’t hide the emotion streaking across my face. “Don’t ever fucking minimize what this is. Your name is right here.” As he lifted his hand to point at the center of his chest, his fingers were shaking. “It’s under my skin.”
I leaned forward and pressed my lips to the place his fingers were.
“I’m trying,” Frankie confessed, sentiment scratching his throat.
I knew how nuanced that was. He was trying to be more emotionally available, trying not to fall into old habits, trying to separate his old life from a new one, forgive himself for things he couldn’t have controlled, believe he could be the person I knew he was.