What's a Girl to Do? (Season 6)

Chapter Seven: The Brave One

Pretending you're in a seventy-two hour state of exhaustion when you're supposedly on a romantic getaway for your one-year anniversary is difficult, yet not impossible, to accomplish. I did more research on my home city than I'd ever done in my entire life, and planned numerous outings for Nicholas and me during our trip away. So, whenever we'd return from a walk around the area, dinner and a show, or from a winter garden-like gallery I'd found, the both of us fell into bed, exhausted. Of course, this also meant that any lengthy form of communication was out when it came right down to it, and I knew that my husband and I were mutually holding at least one thing back from the other, and the notion that our relationship had, again, become unhealthy, due to the mutual dishonesty, began to wear on me.

We returned back to South Side on the second of January, and I was pleased at the welcome home party that Ian had spontaneously thrown. We were short a couple of faces—noticeably Fiona, who still had barely spoken to any of us since her departure to New York; and then there was Carl, who called from wherever he was stationed overseas and wished us a belated Happy New Year, and that he loved and missed every one of us. However, in addition to Ian, Iana, and the boys, Lip, Debbie, Franny, Kev, V, Amy, and Gemma were all in attendance to welcome the two of us back.

Once the excitement of the two of us initially coming home had died down, I managed to step into the kitchen to take a breather. I opened the fridge and shuddered at the sight of the beer bottles before slamming it shut. "You don't need it, Gallagher—get it out of your head. You know you have to..."

"You okay?"

I turned around then, spotting Lip, and felt my shoulders immediately deflating. In the last several weeks, I'd become nearly as close to Lip as I'd been with Ian since the beginning, and, with our mutual alcoholism, it was pleasant that I had someone so close to me to talk it out with whenever I needed to. "I think I need a meeting..."

Lip gave a nod. "Okay," he said, putting an arm around my shoulders for a moment, holding me against him in a moment of comfort. "I'll get our coats, you go out the back door and text Nicholas what's going on. I'll meet you out front in a minute."

I sighed, fingering my phone in my pocket. "Okay..."

Lip smiled in understanding. "Need a cigarette first?"

Immediately, I pulled my lighter out of my pocket. "Please," I replied.

My brother smiled and got his pack from his pocket, handing one over to me as I lit it up. "Save some for me," he called over his shoulder.

I chuckled then, flipping him off before he turned around completely, and inhaling it quickly as I moved towards the back door, opening it quickly and shutting it behind me. I went down the stairs nearly two at a time, and walked along the side of the house, puffing away, and leaned up against the side of the house for a moment. I took my phone from my pocket, pulling up my correspondence with Nicholas, and typed out a quick message.

Sorry—rushing out for a meeting with Lip! Be back in an hour!

I sent off the message, pulling the cigarette out from between my lips and allowing the plume of smoke to waft out from between my fingers. I stared up at the sky then, layered with heavy clouds, and rolled my shoulders. I hadn't heard the front door open yet, so I knew that Lip was likely delayed by something, but I didn't mind. Having a moment to myself after several days away with my husband was a comforting—if not daunting—experience, and I allowed the moment to wash over me.

"You look like a lost soul."

The voice which flew into my ears then caused my skin to prickle, and I straightened up almost immediately then, narrowing my eyes. "What the fuck do you want, Frank?"