Page 25 of Hale Yeah, It’s You

My Uber driver shows up in less than ten minutes—something that would never happen in Pinewood—and I’m grateful for the swift response.

I climb into the back of the silver Prius, clutching my bag to my chest like a lifeline.

The driver is a middle-aged woman with short neon pink hair and a lip ring.

She grins at me through the rearview mirror.

I hope she can’t see the remnants of my tears.

My lip still wobbles slightly. I need to get out of here.

“You’re headed to the tattoo shop on Garfield?” Her eyebrows rise in question. “It’s pretty late. You need me to talk you into it or out of it?”

A smile touches my lips. “Neither. I’m heading there to meet a friend. She’s one of the artists.”

The woman turns in her seat to fully face me, flicking the ring in her lip with her tongue.

“Please tell me it’s Sarah!” She pushes up the sleeve of her lime green sweater, revealing a gorgeous tree with animals intertwined in the roots, twisting up her arm before disappearing beneath fabric.

“She did this one. I’m waiting for her to come back with some ideas for my other arm. She’s brilliant!”

“She’s a great friend, too,” I laugh. “Known her most of my life.”

The woman nods, clearly pleased. “Well then, let’s get you to your friend. You can tell her Mags says hi.”

After I promise to let Sarah know that Mags is impatiently waiting on those new sketches, we’re off.

The drive is short, and as we pull up to the old brick building, I can’t help the swell of pride for my best friend.

She’s made a big name for herself here, and even though I wish she’d move back to Pinewood for selfish reasons, I know she’s where she’s meant to be.

I thank the driver, adding a sizable tip in the app before stepping out. The tattoo shop is buzzing—people milling around outside despite the cool air. It’s clearly a hot spot on a Saturday night. I tuck my bag under my arm and head inside.

Sarah’s easy to find. She’s in her chair in the corner, cleaning up, wiping everything down and talking with her fellow artists. She hasn’t noticed me yet, and I take a second to watch her in her element.

She’s wearing black skinny jeans with over-exaggerated holes in the knees, a band T-shirt, and her long hair is pulled back into a high ponytail.

She looks every bit the fun, outgoing girl that she is.

Her straight teeth flash as she laughs freely.

Her charisma is contagious. It’s what drew me to her in the first place.

Someone yells from the front door and Sarah’s eyes finally scan the room. When she sees me, she waves me over. “Hey girl, almost done here and then we can go.”

I nod, but the motion stirs something in my chest, and the emotions I’ve been holding back start to rise again.

I hear Clay’s voice in my head, calling me Tasha.

On one hand, it confirms that I’m doing the right thing—stepping away from the idea of something romantic with him.

I’ve always known he was still in love with my sister.

Probably always will be. And while I know it’s possible to love someone new after a heartbreak like that, I’m not sure he could ever really see me without seeing her.

We’re too intertwined. There’s too much history.

Not enough distance for it to ever be a real, clean start.

But still, it hurt. Had he let me stay all these years because it felt like keeping a part of Tasha close? Maybe that’s my hurt talking. But thinking about it makes my stomach ache.

Please, Tasha—

Sarah grabs her purse and says goodbye to her coworkers before taking my bag from my shaking hands. “Hey, babe. You okay?”

I choke back the tears in my throat and nod—then shake my head no. Sarah pulls me into a hug, and the familiar smell of the herbs she loves, the warmth of her arms, it’s more comforting than I expected. I squeeze her back tightly.

“Aw, you should’ve told me it was this bad. I would’ve moved a little quicker.”

“It’s fine. You’re fine.” I shrug against her. “Mags says hi. And hurry up with her tattoo sketches.”

Sarah laughs. “She’s a character. I’m glad she was available tonight to drive you. Some of those drivers out there, man… they’re creepy.”

Tears leak from my eyes as I try to smile. I wipe them away on her shoulder. “She was nice.”

“Let’s get you home,” she says into my hair, then pulls back to look me over. “We can talk once you’re settled.”

My shoulders sag in relief. I wipe my nose on my sleeve and follow her out the back to her car. Once inside, she tosses my bag into the back seat.

“I’m stopping for greasy tacos and caffeine,” she announces. “Then, you’re getting into comfy PJs, taking a hot shower, and spilling your guts.”

“Thanks, Sarah.” I manage a real smile. “I knew I could count on you.”

An hour later, I’m curled up on Sarah’s couch in sweats, an oversized T-shirt, and a pair of neon pink slipper socks—the same kind she gave me years ago in a care package labeled Emergency Cozy Kit .

I’m freshly showered, still faintly smelling like her citrusy shampoo, and stuffed full of greasy tacos and too much guacamole.

The tension from earlier begins to loosen its grip as I sink into the soft, familiar suede cushions beneath me.

Across from me, Sarah’s trying her best to be patient, but the questions are practically buzzing off her skin.

She’s gotten better about her anxiety over the years—therapy, breathing techniques, a yoga class she actually stuck with—but when it comes to the two of us and our long, messy history?

Her calm has limits. Honestly, I’m impressed she let me finish my shower, let alone eat two tacos without commentary.

But I can see it happening. The exact moment her restraint starts to unravel. Her leg starts bouncing, her fingers twitch like she’s debating whether to grab a notepad or shake me, and she lets out this quiet little hum—like she’s trying to keep her brain from exploding.

Then she smiles, tight-lipped but trying.

“Alright,” she says, soft but not subtle, “now that the queso’s gone, it’s time to spill. What the heck happened tonight? I’m happy to see you, obviously, but what brought you to town in the first place?”

I take a slow sip of water, stalling. Sarah’s more than a friend—she’s my person.

Always has been. The one who reminded me that some relationships stick, even when everything else falls apart.

Even when my sister left. Even when her marriage ended.

She’s been my lighthouse in every storm.

More of a sister than Tasha ever was. What we have isn’t as simple as friendship—it’s something we’ve chosen, again and again.

“I was on a date with Clay.”

Her eyes flare. She flinches like she’s been burned.

“Excuse me, what? It sounded like you said you were on a date with Clay. But I know my best friend would’ve told me that before she went on a date. So… please elaborate. Quickly.” She grabs my leg and leans in.

“He wanted to see if we could be more than friends. I agreed to go with him to the bar, try to win that trivia night we lost before. And the thing is… that part was fun. But afterward…” I trail off, trying to collect my thoughts.

“Nuh-uh, back up,” she says, standing and pacing the small space in front of me.

“You and Clay? When have you ever thought of him that way? That jerk’s been holding you back since Tasha left.

He takes advantage of your relationship with Alayna and now he wants you to what—be his girlfriend?

I know we talked about this at the bar, but I didn’t think you’d actually try this thing with Clay. ”

I groan, guilt washing over me. “I know. I wish I’d called you last week and spilled everything. It would’ve been nice not to be so alone in all of it. I just… I think I was afraid that saying it out loud would spook me. And I was curious.”

“Curious?” she scoffs.

“I’d never really considered it before…”

Sarah barely hears me. “It’s the timing that annoys me. What has him suddenly declaring his feelings, Frankie?”

I could pretend nothing had changed, but that’d be a lie. A voice in my head is screaming the truth: Roman. Roman came back to town and suddenly Clay felt threatened. I knew it then, and I know it now. But that wasn’t the part that truly bothered me .

“Calm down,” I say. I know Sarah is only acting this way because she’s jealous she hasn’t had a play by play of my drama. The dramatics are her own love language. “I need to get this next part out, and I don’t have the strength to say it twice.”

Sarah stops pacing. Her face softens and she kneels in front of me. “I’m sorry, girl. Tell me. I promise—I’ll be quiet.”

“When he kissed me the first time…” Her eyebrows jump, but she zips her lips like a mime.

“It was nice. Not like… set-your-blood-on-fire hot, but it felt good. But the trivia game, celebrating, even the stuff we do with Alayna—it all felt like friendship. Like he’s meant to be my brother, whether by law or because he’s her dad.

It didn’t feel like it could be more than that. ”

I swallow the lump in my throat, holding up a hand to stop her from jumping in.

“I hated hurting him. But no matter what happens with Roman—or doesn’t—it had to be said. So I took him back to the hotel, sat next to him, and told him I thought we should stay friends. He was upset. So was I…”

Sarah strokes my hair, nodding encouragement.

“But as I was leaving, he begged me not to go. Only… he said ‘Please, Tasha...’ Not Frankie. Tasha.”

Sarah pulls me into her arms, wrapping around me tight. “Oh, sweet girl. I’m sorry.”

It wasn’t that I hated Tasha. Or even that, in his drunken state, he thought of her.

It was the reality of it crashing in on me.

He still loved her. She was always going to be his Juliet—the woman he loved and lost, the mother of his child.

Even if we had tried, even if the chemistry had been there, I’d always be in her shadow.

I’d always wonder if he looked at me and wished he was seeing her.

And if I was being honest… Roman was probably that person for me.

Only now, I had the chance to see if what we had was real. To get it back—or finally let it go .

“We knew that though, didn’t we?” Sarah says softly. She wipes my tears with the sleeve of her pajamas. “He never stopped loving Tasha. Even as the rest of us learned to live without her, he didn’t have to. He had you. That wasn’t fair to either of you. I bet he’s terrified now, Frankie.”

“You think losing me will finally make him grieve her?”

“I think it’s a start.”

Sarah shifts beside me, taking my hand. “Are we gonna talk about the other elephant in the room?”

“I assume you mean the elephant who looks way too good in a suit and tie?” I laugh, even though I’m still shaky.

“How’s it been, seeing him again?”

A lightning strike is dull compared to the electricity I feel around Roman. The chemistry is still there—but was the rest of it just a fantasy I held onto for years? Would it still be real if we tried again?

“It’s confusing, Sarah. I’m definitely attracted to him. That’s never been in question. But what if that’s all it is?”

Sarah smiles, eyes glassy. “You know I don’t regret my marriage, right?”

“Of course,” I say. “I was there for all of it. Trevor doesn’t regret it either. There was real love between you.”

She nods. “Yeah, I joke about Trevor, but I really did love him. We didn’t work out, and that’s been a blessing too. Sometimes people come into your life to teach you something. Even if it doesn’t last, loving someone like that—it’s always worth it.”

Fresh tears slide down my cheeks. Her words hit me like a finger poking right into my chest.

“So I should stop fighting the fear and just… go for it?”

The couch shakes as Sarah nods. “What’s the worst that can happen? You’re already miserable. But you could find real happiness—or finally close that chapter for good. Either way, you win.”

I nod, a new resolve building inside me .

“Somewhere out there is a man dying to love you the way you deserve, babe. But you have to be ready to accept that love.”

She doesn’t know how much I hope she’s right. “Okay, boss lady. Where do I start?”

“First things first—you move out of that house.”

Normally this is where I’d argue with her. I’d talk about Alayna, how our arrangement works fine. But the words taste sour now. Sarah’s right. She lost herself too after her marriage ended, but look at her now. What if I was brave enough to take her advice this time?

Decision made, I square my shoulders. “You have any vacation days?”

I watch shock move across her face, her eyes widening before she breaks into a megawatt grin.

“Oh girl, do I ever.”

Warmth floods my veins as I make the decision. “Then I guess you’re coming home with me tomorrow.”