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Frankie asks to go home.
But, Grace falters. Home? Where is home when you’ve married someone you don’t love? When you’ve married someone out of spite? Out of haste? Where is home when you find yourself married to anyone other than your best friend? The one you promised to grow old with?
Grace feels her mouth moving but she doesn’t hear the words she’s saying. She watches as Frankie’s knees hit the sand, watches as she goes down in slow motion with a hand against her sternum. Under different circumstances, that could have been Grace’s hand offering her comfort. And, under even different circumstances, that could have been Grace’s hand giving her pleasure.
Frankie stares out into the ocean, and all the times she’s threatened to run into it seem ironic now. She watches the waves crash against the shore and imagines how easy it would be for the powerful waters to carry her away. To chase away her emotional pain and bring her the physical kind. She doesn’t turn to look at Grace, she can’t bear to look into her face. Not when she’s like this, not when her wounds are so fresh they’re still bleeding.
As Grace skinks down next to Frankie, she thinks back to this morning when she had woke naked and shivering despite being covered in limbs. She had groaned as the ache in her head became increasingly more persistent for her attention, but was nowhere near the pain she felt in her heart. She had felt warmth all around her but her skin was cold to the touch. Events from the night before had flooded back into her mind, they threatened to drown her and ripped the air right from her lungs.
“Married” lingered in her mind as a tear slipped down her cheek and landed on her perfectly fluffed pillow. It was dark outside still when she chiseled her frail frame gently away from Nick’s, he tried to reconnect their bodies as soon as she’s moved away. She almost gave in, almost fell back into his touch, almost let the easiness consumer her, but the person she wanted wrapped around her wasn’t Nick.
She knew he wouldn’t understand why she had fled, not completely anyway. Not in the way she wishes he could. Not in the way she's just begun to understand.
She had silently whined against the pain ringing throughout her body as she stood up. The pain in her knees, jaw, and between her thighs made her ashamed, ashamed of the way she pretends to be someone she’s not, ashamed of her need to please. It makes her afraid that maybe she hasn’t changed at all.
She had stumbled in the dark, nearly fell, but had gotten dressed to the best of her ability and snuck out of the bedroom undetected. The night before, she had tried to convince Nick to let them spend the night in the beach house, to keep an eye on Frankie, she had argued. She couldn’t stand to spend the night across town from Frankie, but he insisted that Frankie would be fine. Plus, the newlyweds needed their privacy. Privacy Frankie wouldn’t give them. Privacy Grace didn’t want.
When Grace had finally reached the beach house, the sun was starting to rise and every single reason she’d ever been pissed as Frankie had disintegrated from her mind, leaving behind only the reasons she loved her. The reasons she adored her. The reasons she couldn’t live without her. Home would never have been at Nick’s penthouse. It had never even been a place at all. Being with Frankie was home.
Grace looks from the ocean to Frankie, she wants her to scream, wants her to come alive with anger. But Frankie doesn’t. She doesn’t yell or even move. She doesn’t even acknowledge Grace’s presence. And, somehow it’s much worse.
Frankie feels the air growing colder around her, she wraps her arms tighter around herself as she watches the sun sink behind the horizon of the ocean. She couldn’t bring herself to move despite the cramps roaming throughout her body, despite the ache in her heart. Sure, she has experienced her fair share of heartbreak in this life, her mind is throwing around words like Robin, Sol, Babe, her Yurt, Jacob, Bud withholding Faith from her. And now, Grace can be added to the list. But everything in comparison seems so small, so distant.
“I asked you to leave me alone,” Frankie says, her voice cracks with pain.
“I know you did.” Frankie doesn’t have to look behind her to know that Grace had been crying, is crying. She can hear it laced in her voice, hear the pain, the regret.
“Then why the hell are you here? I need to get used to living without you.” The words spill out of Frankie’s mouth like vomit, she knows they’ll lash against Grace’s cheek harder than a slap to her skin ever could, knows they’ll hurt her more than anything she has said before but she can’t bring herself to stop. She hears the sharp intake of breath from behind her, hears Grace drop to the ground beside her for the second time that day.
“I never meant to hurt you, Frankie,” Grace whispers. Frankie hears the pain in her voice, she feels it echo through her entire body, her hand's inch closer to Frankie’s that's resting beside her in the sand. She moves it away and places it on her lap.
Frankie drags the stiff fingers of her other hand through the cold sand. “You better get back to him before he sends out a fucking search party.”
“I’m sorry.” The words hit the salty air between them, the wind picks them up and carries them away.
“You broke my fucking heart, Grace. And, all you can say is you’re sorry?” Frankie’s voice breaks, the tears spill down her cheeks, they collect in her thick hair.
“I-Frankie, whatever you want me to say, I’ll say it. I’ll do anything.” Grace begs, her hands find their way to Frankie’s lap and take her hand hostage.
“This, honey, is something you need to figure out on your own because I can’t do it for you. I can’t tell you what to say, or feel, or do, because this is your future and I won’t stand in the way of it.” Frankie takes a deep breath and wipes a stray tear with her free hand. “Even if it kills me.”
“Walking away from you was the hardest thing I’ve ever done.” Grace’s voice cracks, Frankie knows she’s about to lose it, knows she about to sob, she can hear it in her voice.
Frankie finally turns toward Grace, finally meets her eye for a split second before looking away. “Looking at you makes me think of a wildfire.” Frankie whispers, she squeezes Grace’s cold hand that rests in her lap and the amount of pain in her voice is shocking even to herself.
“Why?” Grace chuckles humorlessly, trying to mask her sobs. “Because I light your world on fire?”
“No, Grace, because you burned it to the ground.”
“Frankie.” The word comes out in the form of a sob, it sounds foreign, like nothing she’s ever heard before. Her knees ache, but she stays where she is. She stays next to Frankie, next to the woman her world revolves around. Next to the woman who is her world. “I don’t love him.” Her confession feels dirty even though she’s said nothing explicit. Frankie’s thumb moves over the back of her hand and somehow, it’s the most comfort she’s felt in days.
“I know,” Frankie mumbles and Grace isn’t actually sure she even said it between the wind and the sound of the waves crashing against the shore. But Frankie stands up then, and hold her hand out to Grace. “Let’s go home, we’ll figure it out together,” Frankie promises, and even though she neglects to seal the deal with a kiss, Grace knows she means it. They will figure it out, together.
How dangerous it is, Grace thinks as she takes Frankie’s hand and rises to her feet, to have someone worth losing.