Page 54 of Summer Breakdown (Training Seasons #2)

Frankie is so sure she’s never had an episode like this.

There’s never anything to soothe her during an episode, but this time, Jasmine comes into her mind when she calls for her.

Her hands smooth the dip of her spine. She lies down, lets Frankie lie on top of her, and tells her she loves her until the end of time.

She reads her books that she can’t comprehend, and she tells her about the dinners she wants to make with her.

When Frankie stares at the wall, when she can’t see through the tears, when she throws up for the fourth time, Jasmine is there. She presses a cold flannel to the back of her neck, and she gets in the shower with her, and she’s there, telling her it’ll be okay.

Frankie wants to believe her. Anywhere Jasmine is is better than anything else.

Perhaps Frankie will stay here, with the version of Jasmine that still likes her, and that will be enough.

Frankie’s not sure how long it is before her sobs stop hurting her chest and she can breathe normally again.

She might have fallen asleep. There’s nothing about opening her eyes that helps her determine how long has passed.

The sun might be rising. It might be setting.

She’s in her bed, still fully clothed but with no shoes on. Her entire body feels like lead.

Her ribs were cracked when she used to be on the pitch, and it’s worse than that. Where’s Jasmine? She sits up, and for a terrifying moment, she thinks there’s a demon in her house. Frankie doesn’t get sleep paralysis, and she just sat up so that wouldn’t work anyway, but still, the fear is there.

“I’m a real person,” Ezra replies. His voice is thick with the lack of sleep.

“What time is it?” she asks, as he shuffles over.

Thankfully, she brought a couch that was Ezra-sized, though she hates the fact that she had to because she knew he’d stay over if she needed him, even if she never said the words out loud.

Ezra is the one constant in Frankie’s life.

She’s never known a single day without him.

He loves her; she knows that. Why is it so hard to believe?

“Like, five in the morning.”

“Ugh,” she replies. A shower is calling her name. She wants to wash the sleep off and maybe go and speak to Jasmine. Wait—she wants to shower?

“It’s been ten days,” he says.

No.

“What?”

He sits next to her. “You’ve been in and out for ten days.” Frankie looks at her clothes. They’re all different—they clash.

“You changed yourself,” he says. “You told me I have no fashion sense.”

Frankie screws up her face. She’s a cunt when she’s having an episode. God, what did she say? Where’s her phone? Where is Jasmine?

“You know you’re my soulmate, right?” Ezra asks. Frankie frowns as she looks up at him. People think he’s angry or grumpy or rude, and they’re right—he is all of those things—but he’s soft too. He’s kind. He’s the best person she knows.

“Cameron is the love of my life,” he whispers. “I hope I’m hers. But you’re my soulmate. I’d love you for the rest of my life, even if you weren’t here. But I’ll forgive you if you want to swap me for Jasmine.”

Her face falls. “Is she okay? ”

“She’s okay.”

Frankie blinks the sleep out of her eyes. “I want to be here.” Her eyes widen as Ezra smiles. “I want to be here.”

He blows out a breath, wiping at his face.

She hurts him all the time, and she wishes she never did.

She moves until her back is against the wall.

Ezra moves his legs in front of him, and she copies his position.

They used to do this as children. Frankie would freak out before they knew what was wrong, and he’d find her in the wardrobe and sit with her.

“We got the old pills back?”

He nods, something pulling at his jaw that she can’t figure out. “Yeah.”

“Oh,” she replies. “That’s good.”

Ezra smiles brightly. “It is good.”

The worries never end. “Is—how is—have you heard from Jasmine?”

Ezra smiles. “She misses you.”

The tears fall easily. God, she’s fucked it up with her.

“I love her so much,” she whispers. Ezra pulls her closer, his arm around her shoulder.

“Yeah,” Ezra responds, with a light laugh. “I know. Everyone knows you’re in love with her. Everyone has known you’ve been in love with her since the day she turned up at training and you changed everything so she could take part and then spoke all of about two words to her.”

“Shh,” she replies. Ezra leans away for a moment, and she knows he’s going to get the pills again. That he knows her well enough to know when to try. She wishes she made things easier for him.

“Jasmine doesn’t know that,” he says. “You have to tell her, show her. It’s not fair to expect her to figure it out for herself.”

Frankie shakes her head. “I don’t deserve her anymore.”

“What about what Jasmine deserves?”

Frankie sniffs. “God, she was so hurt. She didn’t want me to leave, and I left anyway.

The only thing I had to do was love her, and it’s the easiest thing in the world.

It’s so simple, and it makes my entire life feel like it’s worth something.

If I lost the club, if I lost this house, it wouldn’t matter.

At some point in my life, Jasmine was in love with me.

She let me love her. And I’ve ruined it. ”

“Frankie, you deserve everything you want.”

Frankie doesn’t allow herself to believe it, because she won’t survive it.

“I don’t even know what I said,” she whispers. “I can’t think about it.”

“You’re not allowed to be scared she’ll never love you when you’re doing everything you can to make sure she doesn’t try.”

Frankie takes in a deep breath. Ezra doesn’t beat around the bush, which is probably the only reason he’s still here.

Ezra holds the pills in his palm like he’s using exposure therapy so she doesn’t have another breakdown.

She hates how scary it must have been for him.

He wouldn’t have called anyone to help him.

“Frank, she adores you. It’s so obvious.”

Frankie shakes her head again. It’s not true.

“She has called me every day for the past two weeks asking if you’re okay. She wants to know how you are even though you broke up with her. This is the first episode you’ve had around her, and she doesn’t know what to do. It doesn’t mean she doesn’t want to. She’s trying so hard.”

“It’s too much to ask of someone,” she whispers.

“You can’t keep pushing her away until, one day, she leaves. That’s not a gotcha moment. It’s unkind.”

“Can you just—“

“No,” Ezra says. “You are going to lose her, and you won’t survive it, Frank. Please. You deserve to be happy. You deserve someone that loves you. Talk to her, man. That’s all she wants you to do. Explain to her what you’re thinking, even if it makes no sense.”

Frankie groans .

Ezra smirks. “No comeback?”

She flinches. “I’m sorry for what I must have said.”

“You being a knob when you’re on the defence is not something that shocks me,” Ezra replies, but it’s too late. She hurt him. She hurts everyone, even when they love her at her worst. She cries again, and he comforts her, and she is surrounded by people she’ll never deserve.

“I’m so sorry.”

“I’ll forgive you if you take the pills,” he says, then kisses her on the forehead. “Please.”

She sighs and takes one out of his hand.

“It might not fix it all right away,” he says.

“I know,” she replies. But it will fix it. That’s the point. God, why did she let them change them anyway? “Tell me something.”

Ezra hums. “Something about what?”

“I don’t know. Jasmine says it.”

“Have you missed her? Even without the pills?”

Frankie rubs at her face. “So much. I’m not sure how I made it through. It’s terrifying how much her presence affects my mood. I don’t want to be dependent on her. I don’t want that for her.”

“You’re allowed to be happy that someone exists and wants to spend their life with you.”

“She did,” Frankie whispers. “Want to spend her life with me.”

“I know. She talks about you all the time.”

She rests her head against his shoulder. “You know something?”

“What’s that?”

“I think Cam is your soulmate too. You’re definitely hers.” Frankie used to be upset that Cam was her best friend and Ezra stole her, but they make each other better. There’s nothing she wouldn’t do for either of them.

Ezra hums. “You do?”

“Yeah, and I think you’d be great together. ”

“Tell her that.”

Frankie laughs properly for the first time in weeks. Oh, she wants to tell Jasmine.

She chews on her lip. Just because she’s out of the episode doesn’t mean Jasmine will want her back. “Do you think I can go see her?”

“Shower first. You’re minging. Then your therapist wants to talk.”

Frankie shoves him with a laugh, and God, does it feel good.

Jasmine can’t get the image of Frankie out of her head.

Ezra texted her a few days ago to say it broke.

Oh, how she wishes she was there. She thinks about what she’d say, how she’d look at her, how she’d hold her.

Jasmine hopes it would help, but every time she thinks about it all that crosses her mind is, You’re here, and you’re alive.

You’re here and you love me. You’re here and you’re alive. You love me, right?

Jasmine’s never been more terrified than when Frankie was screaming in the corner of her flat.

The three scariest moments of her life: holding Marcel for the first time, waiting for Lani’s surgery, and Frankie’s breakdown.

It’s only been a few days. But Frankie’s awake, from arguably the worst time of her life, and Jasmine isn’t the first place she goes. It’s not been long enough, she knows this, but God, she wishes she’d text her. It’s a selfish thought, but one she allows herself to have anyway.

Jasmine tries to reason with herself. Ezra got her to take the pills.

Jasmine took some supplies over. That’s all she was supposed to do.

But Frankie wanted her. In that version of her life, she still wanted her, and Jasmine has a lifelong weakness for Frankie Adebayo.

It doesn’t matter if Frankie doesn’t want her back.

She’s alive, and she’ll stay alive, and that’s all Jasmine needs from her. That all she wants to need from her.

Jasmine doesn’t cry. She lies here, waiting for sleep to take her. Her chest aches in a familiar way now. She might miss it when it goes. It’s the only comfort she has—the weight of love with nowhere to go that feels nothing like the presence she wants.

Frankie asked how she was supposed to know that love existed, one night when she was vocal enough to talk.

Jasmine remembers the way she looked at a spot on the duvet, as if her looking at Jasmine was a sin.

Jasmine ran her forefinger along Frankie’s nose, some semblance of physical touch that she was allowed, and told her she was made up of it. It was true then, and it’s true now.

Jasmine never knew how humiliating a breakup was. She’s read about love hurting like this. It always made her cry. It made her stomach flip and her chest feel funny. Then she met Frankie and thought, well, thank fuck she doesn’t have to go through that.

Now, she waits for the messages from Ezra that have slowed because Frankie is functioning alone, and soon, he’ll stop talking to her too.

Then, there’s a knock on her door, and Jasmine sits up like a jack-in-the-box. She’s stock-still. The kids are asleep, and their village is relatively safe. It’s probably not a murderer.

The door knocks again, more violently this time, and Jasmine finally gets up.

The walk to the door isn’t long, but she jogs it anyway.

What if it’s Frankie? She catches a glimpse of her reflection in the picture frame.

It’s rude that she looks like death warmed up when she left the house earlier.

How is it so obvious with just a passing glance that she’s heartbroken ?

The entire walk to the door, Jasmine has a hope that there’s a muscled set of arms on the other side. God, she’s so embarrassing. Why do people fall in love if this is what breakups feel like?

She steels herself, because she’s not sure what will happen if she opens the door and it’s not her. Jasmine takes a deep, body shaking breath and pulls the door towards her.

There, under the stars, is the love of her life. The woman who is under her skin and wrapped around her bones. Jasmine finds she can’t move.

“Hi,” Frankie says, her fingers crossed her thighs.

And it’s this. This is why people fall in love.

“Hi.”