Chapter 121

“Fine, Frankie,” I say, my voice slow and angry. As the words start to spill from me, I wonder where the hell the hesitant girl from this morning went – the one who was too scared to come out of the bedroom without Lucy teasing me into it. “Even if you’re set on just brushing this under the rug, I am not so much of a coward.”

“Say it, then,” he snaps, shaking me a little. “Do it.”

I narrow my eyes, taking his bait. “What, Frank? Do you want me to admit it? That I liked you? That I found you funny, and charming, and I loved being with you, and I trusted you – and –“

My voice gets a little choked now as the truth starts to spill from me like water over rocks, taking my anger with me as it flows.

“And that you always had my back, and I loved that? Loved that I could turn around, and always knew you were there, keeping me safe? That I…that I wanted to…”

But I don’t get farther than that, because Frankie’s whole face drops, devastation taking the place of his anger and his frustration – maybe even his rage. “Iris,” he whispers, stepping closer to me, raising a hand to my cheek.

And I press my face closer into his hand even as I close my eyes, tears starting on my lashes. Because even if I had wanted to – wanted to kiss him, wanted to try it – to be with him…

Well, that’s all gone now, isn’t it? Because I chose another path.

God, fuck. Maybe Frankie was right. Why did I open this door? Why didn’t I just let him sweep it under the rug?

He pulls me into his arms then, and I drop the grocery basket on the floor with a clang. But we both ignore it. Frankie holds me close, my head tucked beneath his chin, his arms warm around me.

And as much as I want to let it end there, to wrap it up…I don’t know. Something in me – some monster, some destructive thing – pushes for more.

“Say it, Frank,” I whisper, repeating his words from ten seconds ago. My face is pressed so close to his chest that I’m not sure he can hear me. “You were there. Admit it.”

He’s still for a long moment before he pulls back from me just an inch and lifts a hand to press along the length of my jaw, tilting my face up to look into his. “It was real, Iris,” he whispers, looking steadily down into my eyes with his pretty brown ones. “Even if I just say it once, just here? In this stupid tiny grocery store?”

A little devastated laugh bursts from my lips.

“It was real.” His admission is barely audible as he lowers his face, pressing his forehead to mine, letting his eyes drift shut like it’s the end of a great thing.

I do the same. Mourning it.

We stand like that for a long moment and I fist my hands in the fabric of his shirt, because I don’t want it to end. But he wraps a warm hand around the back of my neck and I lift my eyes to look again into his. And he nods once, and I know that our little stolen moment has to pass.

“It was always impossible, Bambs,” he says, falling a little more back into his usual humor, the corner of his lip turning up in a classic Frankie smirk. “I never had a shot with you.”

“Frankie,” I groan, shaking my head.

“No, seriously,” he says, frowning at me, studying my face like he’s memorizing it. “You were…always off limits. Always the boss’s girl, whether or not he wanted to admit it, whether or not he took his damn time figuring it out. And you, my dear,” he takes a deep breath, like he doesn’t want to say it, “were always waiting for him.”

I take a deep breath too, wondering if I believe it.

Because there were moments in these past few months where I hadn’t been waiting at all – when I’d accepted that Chrisitan was with Violetta. And Frankie had always been there, right by my side.

God damn it, what is it that I want?

And why am I so fucking fickle?

“In another life, Donna,” Frankie murmurs, brushing his knuckles down my cheek one last time before he steps away. My hands fall from his shirt as he gives me a half-mocking little bow that I think he really means. “You’ve got me, body and soul, either way. I’ll protect you with my life.”

“Because you’ve been ordered to?” I ask quietly, watching him carefully, needing to know.

He raises from his little bow and meets my eyes with a seriousness I’m not sure I’ve seen in him before. “No, Bambi,” he replies. “Not because I’m ordered to.”

And then he dips down, and grabs the basket I dropped, and strides down the nearest aisle, heading straight for the refrigerated case in the back.

I watch him go, not really satisfied with that answer. Will he protect me not because Christian orders him to, but because I’m his Donna now? Or because…

I sigh, and turn away from him – from the idea – walking to the door and grabbing another basket. As I turn back I see the checkout girl staring at me like I’m insane and I groan a little, inwardly. Because we’re supposed to be keeping a low profile, and here Frankie and I are acting out a scene that properly belongs in a soap opera.

“We’re in a…drama class…” I murmur to her, awkward.

“Okay!” she says, giving me the too-bright smile you give to crazy people to make them go away. I sigh and nod, understanding that, and then take a deep breath, and start shopping.

Over the next fifteen minutes, Frankie and I work very hard to get back to normal. And by the end of it, I think we’ve done what we can to accomplish that. He leads the way in that department, letting me take lead on picking out the food we should buy and cracking joke after joke about my choices, and what we’ll be eating, and how thrilled I must be to have five to feed now instead of three.

By the time the poor checkout girl has bagged up our insane amount of groceries – honestly, we must have bought out half the store – I feel like a warm and cozy blanket has been thrown over my little half-broken heart. Because even though I don’t regret any of it –

I wouldn’t give up my night with Christian, or the progress we’ve made in our relationship for anything –

There is a part of me that’s mourning the loss of Frankie. Of what…well, what could have maybe been really great.

And as I watch him load the groceries into the back of the car, watch the way that he deliberately doesn’t look at me while he does it, I know that he’s doing the same. That at the same moment, we’re both burying parts of our hearts, tucking it away in a vault deep beneath the earth of our souls. Because there’s no space for it in this world. Not anymore.

We ride home in quiet, but it’s more peaceful than I imagined it would be.

And as we approach the house, turning down the secret little driveway, he turns to me with a smile. “I mean it, Bambs,” he murmurs, a smirk on his mouth. “I’ve always got your back. One hundred percent.”

“I know, Frankie,” I say with a happy sigh, reaching out and putting a hand on his shoulder. “And I’ve got yours.”

He turns his head, just a little, and presses a kiss to the end of my finger.

And then the house comes into view.

And it’s done.

I smile when I see Christian standing on the porch, waiting for us. But I frown when I see the rest of them out there waiting. Because…

“Is something wrong?” I call out the window as Frankie pulls the car to a stop and Christian starts down the steps.

Christian quickly gives me a smile, shaking his head as Frankie turns the car off and I step out. Christian opens his arms for me immediately and I go to him, letting him wrap me up.

“Nothing wrong,” Christian says, smiling happily down into my face. “Just, a bit of a time limit.”

I look around in surprise as Nico, Tony, and Lucy quickly start to unload the groceries, carrying them inside. Frankie, picking up on the vibe, helps. I move to do so as well, but Christian stops me.

“Let them,” he murmurs, staring down into my eyes with his gorgeous blue-grey gaze. “They’ll just get them inside – we have to go.”

“But the ice cream,” I murmur, frowning as they go up the stairs, pulling at his arms to go with them.

“They’ll get the ice cream,” he laughs, shaking his head at me.

I turn my face back to his, still confused. “Where are we going?”

“To church, Iris,” he murmurs, dropping a kiss to my mouth. “We’re going to church.”