Bailey Glass POV:
"Go live your life, Bailey. You deserve all the happiness in the world." Dr. Evans' words were a benediction, a blessing I hadn' t realized I desperately needed.
I walked out of her office, a lightness in my step I hadn't felt in years. The air outside, usually heavy with the exhaust of LA traffic, felt crisp, clean. August was gone. He must have returned to whatever urgent crisis had called him away from his attempts to corner me. His priorities, as always, were clear.
A nurse, a sweet woman I'd come to know over my many visits, stopped me at the desk. "Ms. Glass? Mr. Carter left a message for you before he left."
My heart gave a faint thud. Here it comes. The last gasp of a dying relationship. "Oh?"
"He said… he had to go back to set, but he'd make it up to you for your birthday. And that he loved you very much." She smiled, a little wistfully. "You're so lucky, Ms. Glass. He's so handsome, and he clearly adores you."
A bitter laugh threatened to escape. Lucky? Adored? I just managed a tight, polite smile. "Thank you for the message."
Lucky? I thought. I didn't feel lucky. I felt like a fishbone stuck in someone's throat. A persistent, painful irritation that wouldn't go away. But now, it was gone. The bone was out. And I was finally free.
The next morning, I boarded my flight. Back to Portland. Back to Faith.
Faith. My best friend. My rock. She was waiting for me at the arrival gate, a huge smile on her face, her arms open wide. She owned a popular bar in downtown Portland, a successful businesswoman who was as fierce as she was loyal.
I ran to her, wrapping my arms around her in a bone-crushing hug. "Oh, Faith," I whispered, burying my face in her shoulder.
"Took you long enough, you idiot," she said, her voice gruff, but I could feel the tremor in it. She pulled back, holding me at arm's length, her eyes scanning my face. "You look like hell. But… better."
"I am better," I said, a genuine smile forming.
"Good. Because that ass-hat August Carter never deserved you," she declared, loud enough for a few curious passersby to turn their heads. "The minute I met him, I knew he was trouble. All charm and no substance."
"You're the only one who ever said that, you know," I said, a fond smile on my face. "Everyone else thought he was Prince Charming."
Faith snorted. "Everyone else is blind. Listen, he' s going to regret losing you. Mark my words. He' s going to crawl back, begging. And you, my dear, are going to be too busy living your best life to even notice."
Her words were a balm to my raw soul. Faith had always been my fierce protector, my unwavering champion. Her certainty, her belief in me, was infectious. The last vestiges of doubt began to crumble.
"Now," she said, linking her arm through mine, her smile mischievous. "Let's get you home. And then, we're going out. Tonight, we're celebrating your freedom. We're going to erase every single memory of that toxic waste dump of a relationship. And you're going to remember what it's like to laugh, to flirt, to just be."
