Of course that was the only reason she’d been with me. Just as the only reason Frankie had agreed to my stupid fake proposal was so she could do her research.
No, that wasn’t true. Frankie was my friend, and that was why she’d agreed to pose as my fake fiancée. Frankie was nothing like Clarissa, I knew that, but I also knew that Frankie hadn’t accepted my proposal because she loved me. Frankie was far too bright and colorful and amazing to hitch her wagon to mine. The realization settled in my gut like a stone. I’d gotten swept up in the pretending. I’d fallen for Frankie and I’d tried to make something more out of what we had when I should have just been content that Frankie would shine any of her light onto my stupid boring life.
“Speaking of Frankie,” Meredith said, as if reading my mind. “Where is she? Shouldn't she be here when another woman is trying to steal her fiancé?”
“I—” my voice cracked, and I tried to clear it, coughing awkwardly. “I don’t know,” I finally managed.
“She left,” Danika said, speaking for the first time and glaring at me.
“Left? For the village?” Meredith asked.
Leading the witness, your honor, I thought to myself as Danika shook her head. Meredith already knew exactly where Frankie was and with a sinking feeling, I did too.
“She’s on the helicopter and headed for Thessalonica,” Danika supplied helpfully. “I believe she booked a flight home.”
Clarissa smiled triumphantly beside me as the edges of my vision blurred. Frankie had left. She’d actually left the island, and she had no plans to come back. Frankie had left me.
“Did she—” I cleared my throat again. “Did she say anything before she left?”
“No, but she left this,” Danika said, holding up an envelope with my name scribbled on it in Frankie’s writing.
I may have snatched it from Danika’s hand, but it didn’t contain a letter of explanation like I’d hoped. I tipped the contents out onto my hand. It was the engagement ring. The stupid engagement ring that had brought me nothing but heartache.
“I believe that’s mine,” Clarissa said, reaching for it.
“No,” I said, closing my fist around the ring and snatching my hand out of her reach.
I struggled to keep my breathing even as my heart collapsed in on itself. Frankie was gone. For good. I’d ruined everything, just like I always did. Just being born had ruined everything for my parents. I’d never been the son they wanted, and I’d forever been a thorn in their sides. I’d tried my hardest to please them and then given up and tried to make myself as small as possible so I at least wouldn’t get in their way. I’d forgone every dream of my own so as not to interfere with theirs until this opportunity came along. For the first time in my life I’d reached out for something I wanted and what happened? I’d ruined it, just like they knew I would. In all my life there had only been one light, one thing that was good and perfect; my friendship with Frankie. When everything else was nothing but oatmeal and beige, Frankie had been rainbows and sprinkles. And now the only good thing in my life was ruined too. I’d made a mess of everything.
Misery wrapped around me like a cocoon and I felt myself concertinaing; folding up into myself. All I could see in front of me was a lifetime of nothing but off-white and beige. There was no color, no shadows. I couldn’t even imagine my life in black and white. Nope, my life would be nothing but monochrome cream and beige and vanilla.
Chapter 22
Francesca
The flight home was interminable. It was in the range of thirty-three to thirty-six hours long with several stopovers along the way. It was a cheap, last-minute flight—the first I could get, and I didn’t care how long it took, just as long as it got me away from Kalopsia and away from Lucas and Clarissa and their joyous reunion.
But man, it was a drag.
They crammed me into a tiny seat, nothing like the lush private plane we’d flown over in, and stuffed me into the economy section of the plane with half the population of Greece—or that’s what it felt like. They weren’t all Greek, of course, but the sheer number of people they fit onto the plane was mind-boggling. Or maybe I just hadn’t traveled enough.
That’s probably what I should do. Travel. Once my dissertation was done and I had my degree in my hot little hand, then I should just take off and travel the world. People watching in the far-flung corners of the earth sounded like the best thing in the world right now. Being as far away from Boston and all the memories and then equally as far away from Kalopsia was the goal, so…maybe Australia, or New Zealand?
No one was waiting for me at the airport. I hadn’t told Mom or Dad I was coming home. I wanted to sneak home and hide away in my bedroom and lick my wounds. By now the entire palace would know Lucas and I had only been pretending and they would all hate me. They would welcome Clarissa with open arms. She was perfect for the role of markissia and would fit in with Elena and Sophia like she was born to the role. In a few days people would be asking, ‘Frankie who?’
I dragged my suitcase through the door of the brownstone and up the stairs to my room. I was exhausted—jet lag—and all I could think about was sleeping for the next one hundred years.
My eyes were red and sore, which was of course because of the jet lag and the excruciatingly long hours spent flying and had nothing to do with the way I’d sobbed my heart out the entire way home.
It was allergies. The stuffy air in the plane and the weird carpet cleaning products they used in the airport that made my eyes water. And all the different perfumes on the plane and the BO…yeah, best not to mention the BO because it might just make me cry all over again. No, not cry, I wasn’t crying. I didn’t cry. One glistening tear on my cheek, maybe when I was watching a sad movie, but I didn’t cry.
And that pain in my chest? I must have strained a muscle when I was lugging my luggage around. Or maybe it was the food on the plane. It was a well-known fact that food on planes caused indigestion and this was definitely indigestion. It most definitely was not my heart breaking into a hundred million tiny pieces.
I eyed my bed but opted for a shower first. I’d been traveling for the better part of two days and I was probably the primary contributor to the BO that was stinging my eyes and making them water.
I climbed into the shower, completely disregarding the memories of the rain shower head and glass shower wall that looked out over the Aegean Sea from the shower in my suite in the palace. Clarissa was probably making herself at home in that suite now.
And there went my eyes again and that sharp pain in my chest. I should probably take something for that.
I turned the heat up and let the water pound on my neck and shoulders and breathed the steam in. I wasn’t crying, that was just the water from the shower running down my face and it was salty because of my sweaty, gross skin and not having showered for two days.
When I was well and truly waterlogged and my skin was starting to prune, I climbed out of the shower, dried off, and pulled on my softest, cuddliest sweats and an old t-shirt. Okay, it might have been Lucas’ old t-shirt I’d borrowed once and never returned, but I chose it because it was comfortable and not because I imagined I could still smell his scent on it.