When Sophie called, she would call her cousin’s phone to reach Stevie. When she got to her phone, Stevie pressed her lips tightly at the name.
“Hey, Ally,” she greeted as normally as possible.
“Hey, Stevie. What are you up to?”
Lie.
Stevie sat in the winged back chair next to the fireplace and stared at the flames. “Just at home. About to watch a movie.”
“I see.” Ally made a humming sound. “Now I know that’s a lie because I’m actually standing in your bedroom. Your bed’s unmade and your drawers are all flung open like you left in a hurry. I’ve been in Melbourne for almost four days and you haven’t come home.”
“Fine,” Stevie sighed. “I’m not home. Don’t tell anyone, but I’m in England.”
“Why?”
The tremors began in her chest, and Stevie gripped the phone tightly in her hand. “I needed to get away.”
“He loves you,” Ally stated.
“He loved me. Look, I can’t talk right now. You can take my room if you’d like. Pack my things or chuck them out. I don’t mind. Welcome to the big bad world, Ally. You better win Robert Moors’ heart while I’m gone,” Stevie teased.
“Will you come back? We were going to be roommates.”
“I’d love to, but you’ve got this. Whatever life throws at you, I know you can take it and conquer it. It’s your time to be more than what those magazines say. And if Rob does anything stupid, he’d better watch out!” she warned.
“I wish you’d come home, Stevie.”
“Maybe someday.” And with that, Stevie hung up on Ally. She gazed at her phone to see missed calls. With a deep breath, she checked the missed call history. Several from her papa, about twenty from her stepmother, Rose, about a dozen from Jarred, some from Clara, Rob, and Annie, and four from Julian.
Unable to kill the curiosity within her, Stevie’s thumb pressed on the number saved as ‘Voicemail.’ She skipped through everyone’s—including Jarred’s apologies—until she got to Julian’s.
First voicemail: “It’s me. Ally had me sober up before I called you. I made a mess of your couch. I’m sorry. You don’t have to call me back. Clara told me the truth. I didn’t let you finish. I walked out of your apartment thinking you had an abortion, and I should have known better. I’m so sorry, Stephanie. Please forgive me. Please. I love you.”
Second voicemail: “I’m scared I’m never going to see you again. That I’ve lost you for good. I love you. I made the biggest mistake of my life for the way I handled things. I was a fucking idiot, and I’m sorry. I am so sorry. I hope you’re safe, and I hope someday you could forgive me. I love you.”
Third voicemail: “I was hurt. The thought that we had a child together blinded me. I wanted you to be the mother of my child. I wanted it. I didn’t take into account that you have suffered. I saw the worst in you, and I shouldn’t have. I should have stood by you, and I didn’t. I’m sorry, Stephanie. I love you.”
Fourth voicemail: “Hey, it’s me. Julian. I’ve been practicing this message all day. I spoke to Jarred, and he told me about you and Charles. I can’t be jealous of him. I should thank him, really. If you do decide to stay in England and be with him, then that’s okay with me. I love you, but he’s your soul mate. And he deserves you. He made you better when I made you worse. This is my last message. I love you, Stephanie. You were my all-in, and I fucked it up. You were worth it all, and I threw it away. Be happy, Stephanie. Be as free as you were before you met me. I love you.”
“You have no new messages,” the automatic female voice said. The finality of that voice crushed her. It was his final message. Stevie dropped her phone into her lap and began to sob.
I became free the moment I met you.
The warmth from inside the beach house was heaven. He forgot how cold Brighton was. London was cold, but Brighton was a killer. The snow had begun to fall heavily after he had driven ten minutes to ASDA to buy things for tea. Charles began unpacking the groceries and smiled when he came across Stevie’s Beefy crisps. He wasn’t in love with them as she was. And he knew that they weren’t available in Australia. Every year for her birthday, he’d mail her a