Echoes of the Heart

by Casey, L. A.

My eyes rolled from her face to her medical ID and I paused when I realised she had two rings on the chain.

  “Are those . . . ?”

  She looked down and touched them with fondness.

  “My parents’ wedding rings,” she looked at me, smiling sadly. “Michael gave them to me after the funeral. We buried Mum with Dad, and Michael felt it was right that I hold on to their rings.”

  “I’m glad you have them and that you’ll keep them close.”

  “Me too, Risk.”

  “I hate that I’m doing this,” I said. “Jesus, Frankie, I hate it. I don’t wanna say goodbye to you.”

  “You can say it without it being final, you know?” she said. “Neither of us know what the future holds. I know that now, it took me a long time to realise no matter how much I overthink or fear something, I can’t control whether or not it will happen.”

  That sentence alone gave me hope that I didn’t know if I deserved.

  “I read all of them,” I said. “I read every message you sent me maybe a dozen times over the past eight days.”

  “You have?”

  “Yes.”

  “D’you believe me that I never erased you?”

  “Yeah, baby, I do. You love me.”

  “I love you so much.”

  “That’s why I’m going to LA. I want to get clean for me, to be sober for me . . . but I want to do it for you too. You’re my shining star, you know?”

  Tears fell from Frankie’s eyes.

  “Say you’ll do something for me?”

  Frankie sniffled and tentatively nodded.

  “When you want to talk to me, like you did before, don’t text my old number. Text my new one. I won’t ever text you back, I won’t even see the texts until I’m out of rehab but knowing I’ll get a peek into seeing how you’re doing will give me a lot of strength while I’m away.”

  “Okay,” she nodded. “I’ll text you a lot.”

  “Thank you, love.”

  She wiped her cheeks.

  “I don’t wanna cry,” she smiled sadly. “I’ve cried enough for ten lifetimes.”

  “Sometimes crying helps.” I reached up and thumbed away another tear. “Sometimes it gives the pain we feel a way to escape.”

  Frankie nodded.

  “I wish I didn’t have to leave you . . . not right now just after your mum’s passing.”

  Frankie swallowed. “I have Michael, Joe, Enda and even Anna now. It hurts but I don’t think that will ever stop, it hasn’t for my dad. With time, I just learn how to live with it I guess.”

  The door to kitchen opened and Anna popped her head out.

  “I’m sorry, Frank,” she said. “I need a hand. Joe has three orders ready and I just seated two more booths.”

  “I’ll be right in.”

  Anna nodded and disappeared again leaving the door slightly ajar.

  “I better get back,” Frankie exhaled a breath. “Duty calls.”

  I stepped into her space before she finished speaking and her little gasp was one I knew would haunt me late at night.

  “Can I kiss you?” I murmured. “Just once?”

  “I’m scared,” she trembled. “I might not want you to stop.”

  I kissed her before she could deny me, deny herself, and instantly she went up on her tiptoes and wrapped her arms tight around my neck, pulling my face down to hers. Our kiss was hungry, but not brutally intense. We explored the other’s mouth slowly, seductively, savouring every single moment. I tasted Frankie’s tears as they fell once more and my heart broke. This was either going to be just another kiss of many for us or it was the last.

  The thought terrified me.

  “I love you,” I said. “I love you, Cherry.”

  “I love you too.”

  I stepped away from her and before she could hug, or kiss me, again I turned and walked away because I knew if I touched her again, I’d never let go.

  “Keep chasin’, rock star.”

  Tears fell from my eyes as I jogged back to my car, hopped in and drove away from Mary Well’s. I drove back to May’s house, switched seats and sat in the back with May while Hayes drove all four of us to London. The guys didn’t have to ask how it went, I was still crying when I jumped into the back seat of the car. May kept his hand on my shoulder the whole car ride to London. He sat next to me when we were settled into our business-class seating. I didn’t speak the entire time, I was scared if I spoke, then I would sob.

  My friends understood.

  With my phone in my hand, I scrolled through the photos of myself and Frankie that were taken the first night we played at Wembley over a week ago. Frankie’s smile was huge and so was mine. We looked insanely happy. This was before everything went to shit. I hated that a few hours after these pictures were taken everything was ruined. I couldn’t delete them though, I needed to keep them. I needed to see her, to see those big, round, beautiful emerald-green eyes and wide smile to give me something to cling to in the dark hours that I knew would come when I began my detox.

  Frankie was my shining light, I couldn’t put her out.

  My phone vibrated in my hand as the plane began to taxi towards the runway. I clicked into the message without thinking and my heart stopped when I realised who it was from. On my screen was a text message from Frankie. I clicked into it so fast I almost broke the screen. I read through her text ten times with unblinking eyes and when the plane took off into the air and left England, Southwold and Frankie behind me . . . I had a smile on my face.

  Text message #1

  Frankie: I said goodbye to you again today. I miss you, I miss you and you have only been gone a handful of hours. You’re probably in the air right now on your way back to LA, but I’m keeping my word and texting you, just like I always did, to get things I need to say off my chest. I wish things had turned out differently for us. I wish my mum hadn’t died. I wish I wasn’t so scared for my future. I wish for a lot of things. This fucking sucks but that’s life, right? I’m going to pray for you every single night before I go to sleep. I’ll pray for your health, both physical and mental, and I’m going to pray so hard that you find peace. I want that more than anything for you.

  Please, don’t worry about me, okay?

  Like you said, I have Michael, I have Joe and Enda and I’m getting a friend in Anna now too. I’m hurting, but I know I’m going to be okay because my mum told me so. I didn’t tell you this earlier but I don’t think this is the end for us, Risk. I can’t tell the future but when we parted earlier, it didn’t feel like a forever goodbye. We always have a way of finding each other in the strangest of times. I just want you to know when your mental health is stable and you’re sober and you find your happiness and peace for you, and you alone, then if you want me still . . . you’ll know where I’ll be.

  Southwold isn’t a big town.

  Keep chasin’, rock star.

  CHAPTER THIRTY-ONE

  FRANKIE

  Four months later . . .

  Clashing waves, the cool, crisp air, idle distant chatting and a blanket of cold, swaying water. This handful of things were my solace when my thoughts were so loud that they made me want to scream. The late July evening was paired with a stunning sunset, which granted me an abundance of peace not even my chaotic mind could spoil. Four months. It had been four long months since I last saw Risk in person outside the back entrance to the kitchen of Mary Well’s. I leaned against the rail of the pier, where I had found myself recently spending more and more time. Weather permitting, I took a stroll along the pier most evenings to unwind from a long, hard working day.

  I looked down and smiled when a knock in my tummy caught my attention.

  2021 had been a whirlwind of a year for me and it was only the twenty-eighth of July, only half-way through it. Risk Keller, my ex-boyfriend and the love of my life, came barrelling back into my predictable, quiet life and his very presence turned it upside down. Even though our relationship was rekindled rapidly and went downhill just as fa
st, I’m glad it happened the way it did because everything that occurred during that handful of weeks Risk was in Southwold led me to now.

  Pregnant with his baby.

  I didn’t find out until I was ten weeks along and Risk had already been in rehab by then so I kept it to myself. May had been giving me updates on him when he got them, which I greatly appreciated. I knew Risk’s stint in rehab had ended just over three weeks ago and every time I thought of why he hadn’t come to find me yet made me feel guilty. Just because Risk completed his ninety-day program didn’t mean he was just able to up and come back to a place, and person, that made him relapse.

  If he would come back.

  I closed my eyes trying to force away the fear and doubt that crept into my mind whenever I wondered about him coming home. In my first text message to him the night he went back to LA, I told him point blank that if he wanted me, I would be here waiting for him. That offer was still on the table and I knew it would remain on the table for the entirety of my life. Risk was my one, my person, and I believed I was his. I could only pray he returned to Southwold because I wasn’t the only person he would be coming home to, the baby in my belly wanted him home too.

  I wanted to wait.

  I wanted to wait until Risk decided when, or if, coming back to Southwold, to me, was the best decision for him. There was no way I was going to contact him and let him know I was pregnant because I knew he would be on the next plane to England. If he chose not to be my romantic partner, it would crush me but I would survive. I would only tell him about the baby once he had made his decision so it wouldn’t sway his choice. It would be devastating if he wanted a life that didn’t involve me, but that would be my issue to work through. I knew he would never turn his back on his child.

  The not knowing what was going to happen was a head wrecker . . . and I wasn’t exactly running on an unlimited supply of time when it came to our baby.

  “C’mon God,” I looked up. “Give me a sign . . . something, anything. Just give me a hint of what I need to do, please.”

  The waves slapping together below the pier were my response . . . until a voice answered me.

  “What kind of sign are you looking for, Cherry? Maybe I can help you look for it.”

  Time itself stood still. I turned around slowly because I was terrified I was imagining hearing his voice, but when I saw him, standing a few metres away from me with his thumbs resting in the pockets of black jeans, black boots, a black Nirvana T-shirt with rips in it and with a head full of white-blond hair that slightly curled at its ends, I was gobsmacked.

  He was stunning, he was healthy, he was smiling . . . he was my Risk.

  “Risk.” I placed my hand on my chest. “I was just thinking of you.”

  “I know.”

  I blinked. “You do?”

  “Yes,” he nodded. “The pier, the sea, and me, are your favourite things. You always think of me when you look out to the sea.”

  I couldn’t remember ever telling him that, but it didn’t matter because it was the truth.

  “You’re really here.”

  “I’m really here. I would’ve been here a couple of weeks ago,” he said. “But I had some business to take care of.”

  “Oh, really?”

  “Yeah,” he answered. “I was buying some land near the beach, you know, so I could build a new house.”

  Pain stung at my chest.

  “You’re building a beach house?” I swallowed. “Lucky dog. Anywhere nice?”

  “Somewhere very nice.”

  I figured he didn’t want to tell me where the location was, so I didn’t press the issue.

  “How come you’re here at the pier?”

  “I saw you walk from your cottage all the way down here about half an hour ago . . . figured I’d come and say hello.”

  I stared at him and he stared right back at me.

  “Did someone see you?”

  “Nope. No one knows I’m here except Nolan and the guys. He’s taken over Chris’s job for the time being. They’re down at the entrance of the pier, Jacob said he’ll scare away anyone who wants to take a walk down here. Tobias too.”

  I blinked. “There are already people on the pier though, I passed by two men fishing and others watching the sunset closer to the gift shops.”

  “Fine,” Risk grinned. “He’ll stop anyone who looks like they get paid to take pictures for a living from following me onto the pier . . . happy?”

  I snorted. “You should’ve just started with that.”

  “Maybe,” he smiled. “How have you been holding up?”

  My mum’s beautiful face flashed across my mind.

  “Some days are worse than others,” I answered honestly. “Today, I feel calm. I can think of Mum and smile. Yesterday I couldn’t breathe past the pain of missing her, it brought on an attack but Michael was with me so I was okay. Tomorrow? Who knows, I won’t know how I’ll feel until I wake up.”

  Concern washed over Risk’s face.

  “How are you?” I quizzed. “You look great, Risk.”

  He really did, he looked so much healthier than when I last saw him.

  “Four months sober,” he said, touching the coin that hung from his neck. “This is the second time I’ve gotten this coin, but I know this time it’ll be my last.”

  “I’m so proud of you. I truly am, honey.”

  “Frankie,” he shoved his hands in his pockets. “I’m sorry for everything I’ve ever done to hurt you. What I did to you at Wembley . . . I hate myself for it.”

  “Don’t,” I told him and walked towards him until I came to within a few inches of him. “You’ve already apologised. You can’t change what happened any more than I can. I know you’re sorry and I know you didn’t want to hurt me. I know you didn’t even realise we were on the stage during that moment, your mind just went blank except for what I had done. You just wanted to hear me sing one of your songs because it killed you to think I blocked myself away from hearing you. I know you speak through your songs . . . it’s why I never listened to them before the concert, I was too afraid to hear what you had to say.”

  The sadness in Risk’s eyes was haunting.

  “Can I tell you something?”

  He nodded.

  “I swore I was going to forget you when I ran out of that stadium,” I told him. “When I left London, I promised myself I was going to just remove you from my life so I could learn to breathe without you, but I couldn’t.”

  He exhaled. God, he looked so scared.

  “Because you love me though loving me hurts you?”

  “Because loving you is a pleasure I want for my entire life.”

  “But why?” he asked. “Why, after all I’ve put you through?”

  “Because you’re my risk and I pray that I am yours.”

  He moved closer, reached his arms out and placed his hands on my shoulders.

  “You are, Frankie. It’s always been you, since I was thirteen. Only you.”

  “Have you decided then?” I asked, my stomach flipping. “Have you?”

  “I’m standing in front of you, aren’t I?”

  “I need to hear you say it,” I lifted my hands to his waist. “I need to hear you say you want me, please. I need to hear you say that you choose me.”

  “I want you. I choose you.” His hands moved to my face. “God, woman, I want you for life.”

  Tears filled my eyes. “Good because I’ve a second reason that I really needed to know that.”

  “What d’you mean?”

  I didn’t want to drag the conversation out, so I just said the words plain.

  “I’m pregnant,” I said, looking up into his widening eyes. “I’m sorry, I know this is the last thing you need in your life right now, but I couldn’t keep it from you. He’s your baby too.”

  “A baby? A he?” Risk rasped. “He’s a he? You’re pregnant with my baby?”

  I nodded, feeling a lump form in my throat.

  “I went fo
r my ultrasound last week and the lady told me his sex by mistake but I don’t regret knowing. He’s a he.”

  “How pregnant are you?” Risk looked down. “I mean, how far along?”

  I gripped the sides of my sun dress and pulled it tight against my skin, revealing my small, but growing bump.

  “Nineteen weeks and three days today,” I answered. “I’m nearly five months. I’m due on the nineteenth of December.”

  Risk said nothing, he looked pale.

  “I didn’t find out until a few weeks after London and you were already in rehab. I didn’t want to ruin any progress you had. I’ve been struggling with how to tell you. I knew I couldn’t just text you something so huge . . . I’ll admit I was thinking about telling May to tell you but then you just showed up here.”

  “Frankie.” His voice was barely a whisper. “Fuck. I can’t think.”

  “It’s okay,” I told him. “I know it’s a shock. Close your eyes.”

  He did so in an instant.

  “Slow breaths, in through your nose and out through your mouth,” I instructed. “There you go, honey.”

  With his eyes still closed, he reached out with his hands and flattened them over my stomach. Even though there was a thin layer of fabric between us, the contact sent a zing of electricity throughout my body. I whimpered a little when Risk lowered himself to his knees and brought his face to my belly. I gasped when he pulled up my dress so he could see my stomach.

  “Risk, someone could be taking pictures—”

  “Everyone thinks I’m in LA,” he said, tucking my dress under my bra to keep it from falling down. “Besides, no one from the beach can see us down this far, not with the building blocking us. It’s just you, me, and the sea.”

  I placed my hand on his cheek.

  “And our baby.”

  Risk leaned in and pressed his lips against the underside of my swollen stomach, just above my pubic bone. With his hands on either side of my tummy and his face pressed against me so intimately, my breath caught.

  “You aren’t angry, right?” I asked. “About the baby? I swear, I didn’t plan for this to happen. I didn’t miss my pill once, and Owen kicked me in the stomach that night. This just . . . happened. He just happened.”