“Of course not.”
“If she told you to move out of your apartment, would you do that?”
“No!” Frankie frowned. “What are you—”
“So why are you letting her dictate your love life? Why are you letting anything she says influence the decisions you make about your life?”
Frankie moved to one side so a couple with a stroller could walk past. “Because she pushed all my buttons. It was like being transported in a time machine. I was right back there, to the time my dad moved out.”
“Answer me one more question.” Paige looked thoughtful. “Before your mother showed up, were you and Matt happy?”
“We were half-asleep. And yes, we were happy. We were going to spend the day together. We had it all planned. I was going to cook breakfast, play with my plants for a while and then we were both going to take a long walk in Central Park.” Her eyes filled. “I hurt him. I hurt Matt. How can I hurt someone I love so much?”
“Because you were scared and panicking. But now you need to fix it, Frankie.”
“How?”
Paige rubbed her shoulder. “You’re the one who knows my brother. You’ll find the right way.”
Chapter Nineteen
Love isn’t something you see, it’s something you feel.
—Eva
“Someone’s dogwood has mildew. I presume that’s a plant, not an animal.” Paige scanned the requests they’d received overnight. “What is a dogwood?”
Frankie stirred. “Email me the details. I’ll deal with it.”
She felt listless and unmotivated, as if someone had drained all the life out of her.
She missed Matt horribly. She missed being snuggled next to his warm strength; she missed sharing those intimate thoughts and details she never shared with anyone else and she missed the sex.
She wanted to talk to him, but she didn’t know what to say. She didn’t know how to prove to him that she trusted what they had.
And in the meantime, she was sharing an apartment with Eva.
“I used the last of your shampoo this morning.”
Eva glanced up. “The expensive one that is supposed to make me look like a Greek goddess?”
“Is that what they promised you?” Her friend had said nothing about her exchange with Matt, but Frankie knew she hated any kind of tension. “Are you mad at me?”
“Of course I’m not mad at you.”
“You hate having me live with you.”
Eva sighed. “I love having you live with me. The only thing I hate is the reason for it. You should be upstairs with Matt. I hate seeing two people I love upset. I want you both to be together.”
“I want that, too,” she admitted. “And don’t tell me to fix it, because if I knew how to do it, I would. I’m not like you. I don’t know how to be in a relationship.”
And yet being with Matt was the easiest thing she’d ever done. It hadn’t felt hard, or stressful or even complicated. It had felt fun, safe, exhilarating and—perfect. It had felt perfect.
“You don’t have to flirt. Matt loves you,” Eva said gently. “All you have to do is show him you love him back. That’s it, Frankie. You have to trust him with your feelings. Is that really so hard? Can’t you do that?”
She’d already trusted him with things she’d never shared with anyone else. Her body, her secrets, those inner parts of herself she’d kept hidden for almost all her life.