Page 47 of The Wish List
He grimaced. “Not usually.”
“But you’re going to trust me, right?”
He nodded. “Yes, I trust you. I hope you’ll find a way to trust me as well.”
Trinity sucked in a breath. She honestly couldn’t imagine a scenario where she would allow herself to trust a man again. It would be a man like Asher Davis who made her take that risk.
CHAPTER SIXTEEN
FREYAYELPEDINsatisfaction as she furiously typed the end of the new scene she’d created on her laptop bright and early Sunday morning. Mr. Jingles, who had decided her lap was the perfect napping spot, gave an annoyed meow.
She didn’t think the cat could take credit, but the past week had given Freya more creativity than she’d had in the past year. She finally felt like her manuscript was taking shape into the story she wanted it to be.
Maybe she’d start a side hustle as a house remodeler when she returned to LA. There was something about working with her hands that seemed to loosen the pressure around her heart.
Every morning and night, when things quieted, she went back to work on her manuscript. She could give credit to the pace of life in Magnolia.
Although it was different than LA, she had just as many responsibilities in her hometown as she’d had in California. Of course, they were not the same.
Less party hopping and making paid appearances. More helping her mother eat whatever was on the menu at the rehab center and the housework and holiday activities in town.
December meant a rotating door of parties and fake cheer in her other life.
Magnolia was the most authentic place she’d been in forever. It shocked Freya how much the slower cadence of the small town allowed her to feel more like herself. To rediscover herself as she was now, or maybe for the first time. She wasn’t sure she’d ever understood who she was on the inside. She’d never stopped long enough to consider it. That kind of self-reflection felt contrived, her mother’s deal but not hers.
She chuckled out loud as she typed a line that felt particularly clever even in her own critical head. Just then, the door to the bedroom burst open. She turned as Beth and Trinity rushed through, both of them with wide eyes. Beth’s in alarm and accusation, and Trinity looking guilty as all get-out.
“Did one of you burn the pancakes?” she asked as she closed her laptop and turned. She might not be an award-winning actor, but she thought she did a decent job of not appearing terrified they might have a clue as to her secret.
“I’d just arrived when we heard you shout and then laugh,” Beth said as her gaze moved past Freya toward the desk. “We weren’t sure what was going on or if you were in trouble.”
Freya frowned, unsure she understood the thread of the conversation but confident she wasn’t going to like where it ended. “What kind of trouble were you thinking I might be in?”
Beth’s mouth tightened at the corners. Freya knew that look. She’d seen it plenty during her teenage years when she’d flouted the rules her sister tried and mostly failed to maintain within the household.
Shortly after the book’s publication, they’d endured a particularly rough spring when their mother took off on a month-long trip to Italy with her yoga group.
Beth had been worried someone in town would find out the girls were alone and that Trinity, who was ten at the time, would be sent to live with whatever relative child protective services could flush out.
Freya hadn’t cared at that point. She’d had plans to run away and make her mark in the world. Now she realized how much she owed her sister. Freya hadn’t finished college, but the initial acceptance into the UNC J-school had impacted her sense of self.
Sometimes she thought about going back to study creative writing, although she’d probably be laughed out of the classroom by the more serious students given her background. Not only because of her career but due to her love of commercial fiction.
Even she understood enough to know that the kind of books she enjoyed reading and wanted to write weren’t respected in the hallowed halls of academia. But Beth didn’t know that, and Freya got that her sisters believed she’d been engaging in a less than creative endeavor.
“Do you honestly believe I’m a drug user?” she demanded.
Trinity looked absolutely stricken. “We don’t...it’s just...”
“You’ve been sneaky since you got here,” Beth finished.
“Sneaky? What does that even mean?”
“You go off by yourself and always seem to be in your own world.” Trinity cradled her belly. “We can’t figure out what’s going on. That’s the only reason...”
Beth shrugged. “We want you to be okay, Freya.”
“You don’t want me to be difficult or hard to handle,” Freya shot back, rising from the chair. “I get it. I spent a lot of time being a pain in your butt, Beth. It makes perfect sense that you don’t want to deal with me now.”
