“That wasn’t an interview, it was a character assassination,” Lucas forced the words out as soon as Frankie opened the door.
“I’m not sure what you were expecting,” she snapped, her voice as tight as the determined line of her mouth.
“I thought…”
“No. No you didn’t. You didn’t think at all. You haven’t lived this life the way I have, being in the spotlight, where unflattering pictures are printed of you wearing no make-up, or in loose clothing which clearly means you’re either putting on weight or pregnant.”
“Then why did you do it?”
“For Edward and all the other Edwards out there. But also for you.” Her eyes shone. This time it wasn’t because she was near tears, it was because she was furious. “I did it because you asked me to.”
“You knew they’d attack you like they did?”
“Of course.” Frankie shrugged like it didn’t matter. “They turned against me the minute the picture of us together was printed. Joey just used that to his advantage. He cares about how people perceive him. I should’ve known me leaving him would have made him feel vulnerable.”
“But what about you?” Lucas pushed. “You’ve spent years with the guy. How could he do that to you?”
“You think making out he’s the innocent party is less obnoxious than sleeping with God-knows-how-many women behind my back?”
“No.” He reached out for her, wanting to comfort her somehow. “Frankie—”
“Don’t touch me.” She jumped back as though his hands were conducting electricity. “That’s what got me into this mess.”
“That’s not fair.”
“I don’t care whether it’s fair!” she hissed, clearly making a huge effort to keep her voice down. “Loving Joey, and then you, has reduced me to a laughing stock.”
“I didn’t ask you to love me.” Lucas rubbed his hands down his jeans. “I didn’t want this. I never wanted to see you hurt.”
“And yet I am. More than you’ll ever know. Because you won’t allow yourself to feel anything.”
“I do feel for you, Frankie. I do.”
“Prove it.” She faced him, hands on her hips, anger an almost visible shroud around her stiffly-held body. “Tell me everything. Help me understand.”
After what she’d just done for him, it was the least she deserved. He needed to do something for her. And maybe if he told her the truth she would dislike him enough to stay away from him.
Because right now, even with her angrier with him than he’d ever seen, all he wanted to do was fold her into his arms and kiss away her pain. Worse still, he wanted to promise her the forever she wanted.
And that scared him way more than her reaction to the truth.
Chapter Eleven
The car journey to Frankie’s house was fraught with tension. Unsaid words hung in the air between them like a black fog. Thankfully, her parents were out. To his relief, Frankie didn’t bother with social niceties. He wasn’t sure he could’ve stomached anything to drink right then.
A pulse hammered at the side of his head and, inexplicably, the scarred flesh on his face ached.
“You want to know?” His voice was rough, full of emotion that left him feeling naked. “You really want to know?”
“I do.” She looked down at her hands, folded neatly in her lap. Her words held no conviction, and Lucas recognised that she was in that curious place where you desperately wanted to know something but knew that everything would be different the moment you heard the truth.
“Lewis and I were going to the shops for sweets. It was a Saturday, summer time.” He’d started and he would finish. Lucas reminded himself that however she reacted, the depth of her disgust for him would never match his own. “We’d been to the shops and were heading home. I guess it would be around three in the afternoon.”
“I don’t need the specifics, Lucas, just the facts. I think I deserve them.”
She didn’t say the words ‘after what I’ve done for you’ but they hung in the room between them like a bad odour.
“We had to cross a busy road. We’d done it so many times before. Occasionally, I’d played chicken with my friends, but never before with Lewis. He didn’t know, he didn’t understand, he just followed me.”
“Chicken? Where you run over the road in front of cars?” Frankie clarified.
“Yes.” Lucas hung his head, shame filling him once more. “I ran over and I had our sweets. Lewis didn’t want to, but I teased him. I made him do it.”
He waited for Frankie to comfort him, as she always did, for her to find the good in him. But she didn’t. “Go on.”
“I called him a chicken, said I’d be home before him and eat all of his sweets. As soon as he started running, I knew he’d never make it. I tried to run back to him, but the car hit us both. Lewis flew through the air and I fell under the back of the car and was dragged along the road. I knew he was dead. No one could’ve survived the impact.”