Thursday, 7th September

A D D I E

My cellphone was ringing from somewhere inside my bag where I'd left it. The incessant chime woke me up from where I was asleep on the living room floor.

I hadn't moved since whatever time I'd collapsed yesterday afternoon. I hadn't eaten. I didn't know what time it was. The only reason that I knew it was a new day was because I'd woken up in the middle of the night, hated the feeling of awareness and gone back to sleep.

But it had been about ten minutes that the phone had been ringing now. It wasn't letting me fall back into a slumber, so I dragged myself over to the duffel, unzipped it and felt around until I clutched it, hitting answer without checking the ID.

"Hello?"

"Addie, thank fuck," Zac breathed from the other end of the line and I froze.

Zac.

His voice was like a shock wave, sending ripples of reminders throughout my body. It was hard to believe that Zac wasn't a dream. It was hard to believe that entire month happened when I was back here, drowning in guilt and grief. It felt so surreal to hear his voice.

"Addie." I heard him swallow. "I messed up real bad, Ads. I know that. I'm sorry. I accused you of something that I should never have accused you of. Raine told me everything and I jus- I'm so ashamed of how I behaved."

I didn't know how to respond.

"Addie?"

"I'm-" my voice was hoarse, so I cleared my throat- "I'm here."

"I'm so sorry, Addie. I wish I could put it into words, how damn sorry I am."

"I forgive you."

And I had. I'd forgiven him before I'd left. His reaction was justified, normal even. Sure, he could have given me a minute to let me explain, but it wasn't the first time he'd jumped to conclusions. This time, I saw it as a blessing in disguise. I couldn't have stayed there and kept on pretending as if my life was one iota of normal.

"You do?"

"Yeah," I sat up and folded my legs. "Yeah I understand why you were upset."

"No," he said, firm. "No, I shouldn't have responded like that. It wasn't fair. Addie, please come back. Please."

"Zac, I get that you're sorry and I forgive you and all of that is fine. But I'm still pregnant. I'm having a baby that I'm going to have to raise. That hasn't changed. You made it clear that you're not ready to play dad. There's no point in me coming hom- back."

"I didn't mean what I said, Ads."

"Really?" I asked, not believing a word that he said. "You're willing to be a step father? With a woman that you barely know?"

"I know you," his voice was low and desperate. "I do. Addie, I want to be with you."

His words made me want to weep, but I didn't have tears left. Instead I felt the immense pain welling up inside of my chest. "You don't know me. You can't. I haven't been me since I lost Margo. You've seen a version of me. A version that was trying to survive and plastering on a smile every morning and doing her best not to crumble. Zac, I ran away from home and spent a month completely ignoring the fact that I was pregnant."

"I know," he exhaled. "I know but it doesn't matter. I know how I feel about you. I know that I don't want this to be over. I'll be the step father. I'll be the best damn one. I want you, Addie."

I slowly lay back down on the floor, not having the strength to remain upright. "Zac," I said, barely a whisper. "I'm doing you a favor, alright? I'm not coming back to Texas to be with you. Go and find a woman who hasn't been pretending to be someone she's not the entire time you've known her. Start a proper family of your own. Fall in love with someone who isn't broken. You'll thank me for it later, trust me. I'm not the one."

"Addie," he pleaded. "You've never pretended. You've been honest about everything from the moment we met. More honest than any other woman I've been with. You never lied about your shit. That's how I know that it was real. Please, Ads. I know that I was an asshole and I don't deserve you but please, give me a chance. I'll make it up to you."

It'd be so easy to give in and go back to him. My soul ached for the comfort that he provided. He truly did make it all so much more bearable when I was with him. But it wasn't fair. It wasn't right to change his life or expect him to cater to us, the baby and I.

Besides, chances are, it wouldn't work and I would end up right back here all over again. I hit end on the call and let the phone fall to the floor beside me. 

The sky outside of the living room window was getting dark again when I woke up to the sound of the front door being pounded on. How had he found me? I was pretty sure that I hadn't given him an address.

"Go away, Zac," my voice was barely more than a hoarse whisper but it must have been heard because the door opened, closed and the sound of rushed footsteps forced me to turn my head toward the threshold where Irie stood with panic in her enormous round eyes.

Margo's friend was a former runway model with no qualms about invading your personal space, telling you exactly what was on her mind and being loud. So loud.

"Bloody hell," she screamed, her accent was a unique mix of Jamaican where she spent half of her life and British, where she'd spent the second half of her life. The six years that she'd been in America had made no impact whatsoever. "I thought I was about to find you dead on the floor. I've been knocking for too long! It's not funny."

I wasn't laughing.

"What the hell are you doing?" She stomped over to me and started nudging my arm with the toe of her platforms.

"How did you know I was home?"

"I asked the neighbor to call me as soon as she saw you," Irie said, switching the lights on and pulling the curtains closed. "She's a good sort. Don't mind her so much. She gave me a call yesterday when she saw you having a crisis on the doorstep. Too bad I was in New York doing an ad campaign. I don't walk the catwalk but this bitch can for sure serve looks on camera. Thirty eight years young baby."

"Irie."

"Mmm?"

"Shut up."

"Attitude," she scoffed and collapsed onto the ground beside me. She laid on her stomach, just as I was and we stared at each other. Irie had this beautiful complexion that truly did give her the right to call herself thirty eight years young.

There was barely a line on her face. Her head was shaved and she absolutely pulled it off with her sharp jaw. Her cheeks were supple. Lips full. Brows thick and lashes so long that she complained whenever she worse sunglasses.

"What are you doing here?" I asked.

"You smell."

"Thanks."

"What happened to your head?"

"I fell off a cliff."

She stared at me for a while, nothing but silence and disturbed confusion between us. "I got a call at midday, yesterday," she finally said. "Please, please tell me that you have not been in this same spot since then."

"I have not been in this same spot since then."

"That was a lie," she sat up and swatted me across the shoulder. "Get up. Get into the shower. You're probably dehydrated. I'll order some food because I doubt there's anything worth eating in here. Not that I'm all that keen on going into the kitchen to be honest," she exhaled, a haunted look on her face. It only lasted a second. "Go on. Shower. Have you pissed yourself?"

"No," I was stiff, muscles ached in protest as I slowly stood up and stretched. "I haven't had anything to drink. So I haven't needed to wee."

Before I could walk to the bathroom, she stopped me. "Did it work? The implant. Are you pregnant?" I nodded and she let out a sharp breath. "Wow. How are you doing?"

My gaze fell to the spot that I'd been lying in just a moment before. "Not great, Irie. Not great."

"Got it. Go and shower. You need to drink some water too. You're pregnant. You can't be getting dehydrated. It's not good for the baby."

She was right but I couldn't exactly claim to have been the best thing for the baby lately. I'd been denying it even existed up until a few days ago. Although, I'd passed on a lot of wine offers over the last month. On some level, I must have been considering it a possibility.

For a moment, I considered walking into the kitchen to get a glass of water, I hovered near the entrance, if I looked up from the floor, I would be able to see the exact spot that I found my sister over a month ago.

But the thought of seeing that space made my heart do over time, pounding so hard that it winded me. I rushed past and went straight into the bathroom, slamming the door closed and locking it. It wasn't going to be practical to live in a house if I couldn't even walk into the kitchen.

"Addie?" There was a knock on the door as I was about to switch the shower on. "I saw that. You know, avoiding the scene. Quite normal. Most people don't hang around in a house where their loved one died. So what I'm thinking is, let's pack up a few things and we can go to my place. At some point, we can discuss selling the condo. There's no rush but I'm a bit worried about leaving you here and hearing you've starved to death because you won't go into the kitchen."

I slowly opened the door and looked up at the five foot nine goddess who was overwhelming at the best of times. However, she'd always been a good friend to Margo and right now, she was being a good friend to me.

"Sell the condo?" I was stuck on that part. "This is her home. This is our home. We lived here together. I feel like. . . Like I need to try and be okay here."

"This is just a home," she shrugged, an apologetic smile curving her lips. "This is just walls. You witnessed something traumatic here. Honestly, for the sake of your mental health, I think it would be smart to leave. How safe for the mind can it be to live somewhere that constantly reminds you of something like that? Personally it would drive me mad. Like, mad. And the thing is, Margo is wherever you are now. She's in your heart. She's not immortalized in this one place. Wherever you go, she'll go. You don't have to torture yourself by staying here because you shared this home. You know she'd say the same."

Irie was right. Margo would tell me that. I smiled, or tried to. Right now, I needed someone to help me make a few decisions because my mind was not working and if Irie wanted to extend her hand and be that help, I wasn't going to turn it down.

"I'll have a shower and then pack up some clothes."

"You shower," Irie shooed me further back into the bathroom and gripped the door handle. "I'll pack up the clothes. I know where the suitcases are. I've got it."

"Wait," I grabbed the door before she could close it. "What about her things. I can't just sell the condo without organising her things. And I don't know if I can do that right now."

"Like I said, no rush. You're welcome with me for as long as you like."

"I'm pregnant."

"I know," she grinned. "And I am so excited to meet him or her. Don't get all bothered girl, I live alone, I have the space, I want you to come with me. Margo would have insisted that I take care of you."

"Yeah," I felt weak and let go of the door so that she could shut it and I could drink some water out of the faucet.

While I was letting hot water run over my body, thawing out the stiffness in my joints, I thought about the will reading that had been done two days after the funeral. The one where Margo had left me the deed to the apartment, her car, her finances, the company. She'd left it all to me and divided out a few little items to friends. I wondered if Irie knew that she was the inheritor of her shoe collection.

At the time, what she'd left me meant nothing, all I wanted was to have her back. Now when I thought about it, I couldn't believe how much she'd left me.

I suppose there wasn't a lot of options when it came to next of kin though. When she was married, Pete was in her will, I was glad that she'd sorted that out as soon as the divorce was final.

Irie was waiting in the living room with three suitcases full of my belongings when I emerged from the shower in a bathrobe. "How long was I in there?"

"Literally for bloody ever," she said, her long nails tapping at her iphone. "Get on with it, yeah? I've ordered Uber eats. We need to beat it back to my apartment."

"You didn't even ask what I wanted to eat."

"Pasta salad with a side of garlic bread and an orange juice." When I didn't respond, she stared up from her phone and raised a brow. "Am I wrong?"

"Guess not."

"I'm good with details darling. You know I was a personal assistant before I modeled. Remembering useless information like what someone orders and how they like their coffee is ingrained in me now. Comes in handy once in a while."

"That's. . . great."

I dressed into a pair of jeans and a hoodie that she'd left laid out on the bed for me. The closet and drawers were empty. Even my make up was gone. She was quick, I gave her that much. But it did concern me to think about how carelessly she must have shoved it all in the bag. Eh. The concern was short lived.

Irie lived in a beautiful two bedroom apartment on Wilshire Boulevard. It was all white walls, wooden floors and modern appliances. It was an open plan with a kitchen and living area downstairs. The staircase that went to the second floor had glass in place of a hand rail and at the top there was another small living area with a glass rail that over looked the bottom floor. The bedrooms and bathrooms were upstairs as well. It was chic and sophisticated but a little sterile for me.

"We should get some house plants," I said, still standing at the door after she'd closed it and started upstairs. She paused and looked around the apartment. "House plants add character. They purify the air. They are serene."

"Alright," she cut me off with a light laugh. "We'll go shopping tomorrow."

"I'll go today."

There was a knock on the door behind me.

"Ooh that's the food. I paid online so just grab some cash from the side drawer and give him a tip for me, darl. We'll go plant shopping tomorrow. Let's just chill out for the afternoon."

I watched her walk across the second floor and disappear into one of the bedrooms with my two of the bags. There was no way that I could stay in this house without some plants and it was weird that it was bugging me so much but I couldn't cope unless I had them as soon as possible.

Grabbing a twenty from the side table, I tipped the delivery person and carried the paper bag inside. It smelled good, stirring my stomach awake with the tease of tasty aroma. I hadn't realised how starved I was until now. Irie came skipping downstairs, clapping her hands with excitement as I settled into the sofa and put the food down beside me. She might have been right about relaxing for the evening but I'd had so much sleep at this point that there was no chance I would drift off again for a while and I would go insane if I just sat around and did nothing. Lose lose.

"So," Irie fell into the sofa beside me and rubbed her shaved head. "This will be fun, right? Roomies. We'll have wine nights and watch movies and I'm totally cool if you bring men here, as long as you're willing to replace anything that's stolen."

"I'm not going to be bringing any men here."

She shuffled through the food, her gaze darting between me and the containers. "Ads, where have you been, darl? You dropped off the face of the earth for an entire month. Seriously, where were you?"

"I was in Texas."

"Texas?"

"On the outskirts of Georgetown to be specific."

"How the bloody hell did you end up there? And for a whole month?"

I shoveled pasta salad into my mouth and chewed, thinking of an adequate answer. There wasn't really one. "I just got on a train. Got off again. Did some walking. Met a girl who introduced me to her family. I ended up moving onto a farm, meeting a man who I started to fall in love with and I met the daughter that I gave up for adoption ten years ago."

Well, it was easier to sum up than I'd expected. Although, I hadn't admitted out loud that I was falling in love with Zac until right now. That part startled me. I looked at Irie, her jaw was on the floor, eyes wide. It was safe to assume that she was reeling with shock.

"M-man?" She stammered and blinked so much I thought she was having a fit. "Daughter? Farm. What the actual shit, Addie?! You have a lot to catch me up on. I want details."

"I don't want to talk about Zac."

"Zac, huh?" She grinned. "Hot name. Is he cute?"

"I'm being serious, Irie. I don't want to talk about him."

"Fine. Tell me about the daughter. My mind is blown to heck right now. You need to fill me in."

So I did. Talking about Willa didn't hurt. It might have been the one topic I could handle right now. So I talked about her for hours.