“And what was that going to do?” I eye the flip-flop, smiling, even though I feel like shit inside.
“What’s going on? How come you are here?” Luce asks, drawing my attention to her.
I take a deep breath in, running my hands over my face and through my hair. “I don’t even know.” My eyes start to well up and I look between the girls. “He didn’t even try to stop me from leaving,” I choke out.
Lucy pulls me into a hug. “Come on, everyone in my bed.”
The three of us climb into Lucy’s double bed, something we haven’t done in years.
We lie looking up at the ceiling, not needing to fill the silence that settles over us.
“He wants to buy me a studio,” I finally voice.
Lucy smiles sadly over at me. “That explains a lot.”
“The money bothers me, but I think it’s the fact he’s been so cold all week, saying he was busy in the office. I thought I should give him time and the benefit of the doubt with his dad being poorly, but then he said he had spent days looking for a studio. I just really needed him to be here for me, and he hasn’t been. Money was the last thing I wanted from him.”
“Do you think it’s because of Joey? I mean, the guy has had a thing for you forever. Maybe he’s pissed about that,” Megan asks.
“No. He told me it wasn’t, and I believe him.”
“Just give him space, babe. He will come around.” Lucy smiles, squeezing me tight.
“I don’t know if I want to see him at the minute. The things he says when he gets mad. I need space right now, and I will decide when I am ready to go back. Don’t go letting him in if he comes knocking.”
“You got it,” Megan agrees.
“Pancakes?” Lucy asks.
* * *
I’mdeep in the kitchen cupboard when I hear my phone ringing in the front room. I woke up early and didn’t know what to do with myself, and after making myself a cup of coffee and noticing the total disorganisation of the mugs, I decided to rearrange them. It’s now late morning, and I haven’t been able to stop. The girls reluctantly left me to go to work this morning after a weekend of my tears and moaning. I don’t know how they put up with me most days.
Shimmying out of the small space, I dart to the coffee table and check my phone, finding Joey’s name lighting up the screen.
The photos.
“Hi, Joey.”
“Nina! I’m surprised I caught you. I thought you’d be busy at the studio.”
My throat grows tight as I think about the studio. “No, I had some bad news last week. The studio has been sold by the owner.”
“What? Can you still use the space, like, rent from the new owners?”
“No. The locks were changed the day it sold.”
I still need to get my things.
“Nina, that sucks. Is there anything I can do?”
I smile at his concern. “Not in terms of my studio, but you could show me the bomb ass photos you took. I’d love to see them.”
“It’s why I was calling. Are you free today?”
I’m about to say yes when I think better of it—eyeing the mess on the kitchen floor and the state of myself in the hallway mirror.
“Not today, but I could probably make tomorrow work?”
