DESPERATE & DIVINE

34. Escapism

When I wake up, it's like my body is immediately alert, every nerve on edge, the remnants of last night weighing heavily on me. It feels like an emotional hangover, the kind that lingers, refusing to fade even with sleep. I pull on my robe and head out toward the living room, where Less had stayed on the sofa.

To my surprise, she's already awake, sitting quietly as if she's been waiting.

"Morning," she says softly, studying me with concern, like she's bracing for me to unravel. "Are you okay?"

"I'm better," I say, trying to sound convincing as I sit down beside her, but then I notice the dark circles under her eyes. "You could've stayed in my bed last night, you know. I bet you didn't sleep properly."

Less shakes her head, nudging my foot with hers. "I am not sleeping in the crime scene."

I can't help but laugh, despite everything. "I told you it was on top of the bed, not in it. I would've changed the duvet!"

She just shrugs with a smirk. "The sofa was safer."

I offer to make her breakfast, and she busies herself folding blankets and tidying up as I whip up some pancakes and coffee. When I set her plate down at the kitchen table, she sits, her expression softening as she studies me.

"So," she says carefully, picking up her fork. "Are you going to talk to Leah about everything?"

I take a slow sip of my coffee and nod, feeling what feels like impending doom of that decision settle over me.

"She'll understand, Franks," Less says, her voice warm with reassurance. "Honestly, I've never seen her so worried about you. She was a mess."

I try to push that thought away, not wanting to dwell on it. "Thanks for not telling her, you know, about everything."

"It's not my place," she replies gently. "I mean, we did argue a little."

"I heard."

She sighs, glancing at me with concern. "I just think you're being too forgiving, especially after what she said to you."

I shake my head, the instinct to protect her surfacing even now, despite everything. "She would never have said that if she knew the truth. I can't hold it against her."

Less watches me, a flicker of frustration in her eyes. "I get it, I do. But you don't have to excuse her words just because she didn't know."

I sigh, rubbing a hand over my face. "I know... but I can't help it. I don't want her to feel that kind of guilt. I just want us to get past this."

She gives me a look, her eyes a mix of sympathy and frustration. "But, Frankie, she was genuinely cruel. You have every right to be angry."

I shake my head, feeling the exhaustion settle deeper. "I'm just... I'm so tired of being angry, Less."

She squeezes my hand, her expression softening. "Then you know you've got to tell her everything, sooner rather than later. It's the only way forward."

"I will. It's got to happen." I murmur, more to myself than to Less, feeling the nerves of it building up.

"Why don't you invite her over after training or something?" she suggests, trying to make it sound simple.

"I can't," I say, the frustration clear in my voice. "I have that dinner with the sponsors tonight."

"Oh, fuck that, Frankie!" Less says, throwing her hands up. "That's not important at all—get your agent to rearrange it."

"This is already rearranged," I sigh. "They're coming up here for my convenience; I can't just cancel."