Franny Simmons has no luck. In the space of three months, she called off her wedding, and lost her beloved grandmother, who left more than a few surprises in her will.
In order to inherit her grandmother's apartment, Franny must move in with Mason...
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Dear Gran,
You'll be proud to know I have a new obsession and it's shortbread.
I've eaten so much I fear I may never be able to stop.
My newest, old friend from the graveyard, Andrew, says I need a little more meat on my bones, and let's face it, I'm not going to say no to home baked goods.
So this is me, in a food coma on the B&B's water bed.
It's a cute place called Georgia's palace. A Georgian building with weird, yet wonderful things inside.
And yes, you read that right, gran—I got the water bed.
It's actually not as comfortable as I thought when booking and I swear some of this nausea from overindulging is from it rocking me whenever I shift.
It's like being on a boat in a storm.
I could only book the honeymoon suite, and this bed reminds me of the old school Sims 1 heart-shaped vibrating one.
Do you remember that game?
I used to be obsessed.
Well, I feel like I'm part of the game now as I lay starfish, bobbing from side to side wishing someone would just click on me to direct my life.
Wouldn't that be so much easier?
*knock, knock, knock*
It's Georgia. The owner of the B&B.
You'd love her, gran.
There's something so homely about her.
"Hi, hen. Are you busy?" she asks, handing over a couple of sachets of hot chocolate to replace the ones I drank.
I thank her for the posh chocolate powder, shaking my head. "No, I'm just chilling out, actually."
"Oh, great. Don't suppose you fancy helping out with a wedding? We own a place down the road where we hold weddings. A few staff members let me down last minute."
I roll off the bed and go to grab my coat. "Of course I can!"
She beams. "Ah, you're golden, Francesca. I'm just loading the extra crates of alcohol on the car. They paid for a free bar, you see."
Lush!
I planned on doing that for our wedding until Mason reminded me that his family don't have the best relationship with alcohol.
Anyway... we drive a few miles down the road to Georgia's other venue and before I know it, I'm trying to keep the young bridesmaid under control as she runs with her mouth about what her parents said on the trip up here.
"Mummy and daddy said your wedding dress should be black," she says, a curious expression on her face.
Something is dawning on the bride as she flicks her eyes to me and then the child. "Oh?" she says, cheeks flushing.
Georgie carries on. "Aye, they say it would be fake for you to wear white because of all your past boyfriends."
Never tell kids anything if you don't want repeating.
Number one rule right there.
"My daddy couldn't stop laughing."
Oh, Jesus Christ.
I wish for the floor to swallow me whole.
*scraping noises*
The bride is shuffling her shoe forward and back, staring out this kid like she's about to swing hands.
"My mummy said there will be a lot of your boyfriends here. That's silly." As if on cue, the little girl rushes towards the big doors when the music starts.
The bride turns to me. "I only asked her to be bridesmaid as a favour to my partner. I always knew his cousin didn't like me."
"Oh, no, I'm sure that's not..."
"Ready, darling?" Her dad appears, linking his arm to walk her down the aisle.
The music is romantic.
A soft version of a the theme tune of Love Actually.
I get out of there, gran.
I have to otherwise I'll be a crying wreck.
I didn't realise seeing a wedding would be this triggering, but it's next level stuff. I feel as if the walls of the function hallway are closing in on me, showing a pattern of the same panic for me over the past few months.
I find the closest tree and press my back up against it, watching my feet squash the grass beneath them.
What am I doing?
Running.
That's what, and I can't do it forever.
I have missed messages and calls from Mason, begging for me to get back to him. The guy is beside himself while I carry on like nothing happened.
This is not me.
I am not myself.
I don't know at what point my emotions switched off, but it freaks me out, gran.
I'm scared I lost myself forever.
Georgia finds me after the service, asking for me to help with handing out the flutes of champagne, so I do, plastering on a brave face.
The afternoon blurs into one until I get back to the B&B and switch my phone back on before jumping in the shower.
*phone pings* *phone rings*
"Mason."
"Oh, thank fuck, Franny. Do you have any idea—!"
"I'm sorry." My hands are shaking.
His sigh is shaky. "Are you okay?"
"No." It feels good to be honest. "I feel like I'm losing my mind a bit."
"I can come to you. It's the start of the weekend. I'll jump on the first train tomorrow. Christ, Fran, if it wasn't for Find my Friends, I might of thought you died."
Feeling guilty is not nice. "I know it was selfish of me, but I just needed to get away. I needed to feel close to gran."
"You're not selfish." I don't know if he's trying to stop himself from crying or laughing. "I am. I'm pushing you too much, too quick."
My eyes float over to my overnight bag. "I should come home."
"Wait, really? I can buy a ticket. Jump on the train. It's no problem," he says, so eager to please.
The girls at work would call him an 'ick', while all I can do is feel another stitch in my heart.
"I really like it here," I whisper, looking down at my fingers tugging at the necklace you left me. "I don't want to leave just yet."
He's typing on his laptop keys, the moment of silence giving me a chance to breathe. "I got the last seat on the six am train from Kings Cross," he says.
If I'm not careful, I might start to think I'm living through some cheesy romcom.
