Page 90 of Myla: The Hawthornes

When Lou and Frankie got home a couple hours later, the house was dark, and I was still sitting on the kitchen floor.

“Hello?” Lou called as she opened the door. “You home?”

“She’s probably on the back of Cian’s bike, riding into the sunset,” Frankie told her dryly.

“It’s pitch black outside,” Lou retorted. “And she said she was done, remember?”

“How many times has Myla said she was done?” Frankie asked dryly. “Once a week for the past few years?”

“I’m in here,” I croaked, lifting my head from my knees.

“Fuck!” Lou yelped in surprise. She flipped on the kitchen light. “What the hell, Myla?”

“I’m guessing it didn’t go well?” Frankie mused, looking at me over Lou’s shoulder.

“Understatement,” I rasped.

“Oh no,” Lou murmured, instantly dropping to the floor across from me. “What happened?”

“Well, first I acted like an idiot,” I said, laying my head back down so I didn’t have to meet her sympathetic gaze. “And then Cian ripped me a new one.”

“I’ll kill him.” Frankie sat down on the floor next to Lou.

“I think I might’ve deserved it, actually,” I replied, my voice hitching.

“That’s bullshit,” Frankie announced. “And fuck him for saying it.”

I lifted my head to look at her, the most loyal person I knew.

“He said I freeze him out,” I murmured. “That I cut contact and then pull him back in and that he’s in love with me.”

Lou’s mouth dropped open in surprise.

“Start from the beginning,” Frankie ordered, leaning against the cabinets. “Whatexactlydid he say?”

My voice barely above a whisper, I told them everything I could remember, pausing once in a while to wipe at the tears that ran down my face. By the time I was done, both of them were staring at me in shock.

“Is he right?” I asked, looking at each of them. “Am I that selfish?”

Frankie opened her mouth to instantly refute it, then snapped it shut again when Lou shot her a look.

“You’re not selfish,” Lou said slowly. “You’re just not, Myla. It’s not how you’re made. But—”

“But what?”

“I can see,” she hedged. “I can see where he’s coming from. You do retreat when something happens. You used to do it with us, but we stopped letting you.”

“What?”

“Remember when you used to hole up in your room?” Frankie asked. “You’d get pissed at one of us, and you’d just kind of disappear for a while.”

“But it always went back to normal, so we just kind of—” Lou glanced at Frankie. “Stopped acknowledging it. You’d go into your room, and we’d just come in and get you.”

“Oh,” I breathed.

“It’s a defense mechanism,” Frankie said, looking intently at her fingernails. “Instead of working shit out, you just put distance between you and whatever is happening.”

Even though I’d already come to the realization that I’d fucked up, having my friends confirm Cian’s words still felt like a blow.

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