Free One Night in A Bar by Louisa Masters Page A

believe it, so that you can move on with your life, pursue your happiness with rightful confidence. I hope that is what you are doing because I can’t bear the thought that I’ve caused you sadness or pain. I’ve been unable to get word of you since the night you left as your friends and family have closed ranks. I can hardly blame them for protecting you, though it worries the hell out of me not knowing how you’re getting on.
    Happy Birthday, Francesca. You’re in my thoughts, not only today, but all day, every day.
    Mark. ”
    In the heavy silence that fell, Frankie’s blood pounded in her ears. She stared as Jess leant forward and placed the letter on the coffee table, her actions playing out as if in slow motion.
    “Come and sit down, Franks,” Claire’s voice sounded, so close, yet strangely far away, and Frankie realised that her friend had her by the elbow and was trying to guide her into the nearest chair.
    She jerked herself free. “I’m going to be sick.”
    Knowing there was no time to try to make it upstairs to the bathroom, she stumbled for the kitchen and retched over the sink, her insides a turmoil of anguish and bitter anger at the memories churned up by Mark’s words. The things she’d worked so hard to push aside all came rushing back—the shock, the pain, the free fall as her happy, loving world had been pulled from beneath her feet.
    Sucking in what air she could, Frankie gripped the worktop and fought to get her spiralling emotions under control, afraid of what might happen if she truly let herself go. God, hadn’t she been through enough sickening hurt because of that bastard already? Wasn’t he content that he’d already torn her life apart once? What made him think he had the right to barge back into it and make her feel like this all over again?
    What made Jess—the traitor—think it was okay to let him?
    Shaky and sweaty by the time she was done bringing up the past, Frankie turned on the tap and scooped handfuls of cold water to rinse the foul aftertaste of betrayal from her mouth. Straightening, she brushed away Claire’s efforts at fussing, and, without sparing a glance at the others, faced Jess who hung back in the doorway.
    “I can’t even find the words to tell you how pissed off I am with you right now.”
    Jess stood unflinching in the face of her anger, her eyes glistening with emotion as she nodded. “As long as you’re feeling something, Franks, that’s fine by me.”
    The words were as unexpected as a slap. “What? What the hell is that supposed to mean?”
    “It means,” Jess took a breath and spoke carefully, “that it’s time for you to stop hiding behind anger, and work, and fear, and begin dealing with this situation.”
    “Excuse me?” Frankie felt her eyes pop wide in astonishment. “I’ve done nothing but deal with this situation, as you put it, since the night my husband came home and told me he’d been with another woman.” Her voice rose, tight with outrage that she was under attack from her supposed best friend. “In a few short months I’ve ended my marriage, moved out of my home, set up house and started to build a new life for myself. What more do you expect me to do?”
    Jess’ eyes were pain-reflecting pools. “Frankie, this isn’t a life. Look at you, look at this place. You’re not dealing, you’re reacting. There’s a big difference.”
    Glancing around the room for support, Frankie couldn’t believe it when not one of her friends came to her defence, their solemn, silent expressions telling her they all sided with Jess. Talk about being kicked while you’re down. “Well, how’s this?” Frankie pushed the words out through clenched teeth. “I’m reacting to your ridiculous accusations and dealing with them by asking you to leave. Right now. All of you.”
    “But…what about dinner?” Sarah Two mumbled into the tense silence that fell.
    Frankie turned on her. “Do you honestly think I could stomach a single mouthful