Page 96 of Frosted Fakes

"I… I do," Elliott said. She drank her tea down and stood up. "I shouldn’t have come, shouldn’t have burdened you with my problems. You’ve got enough of your own to deal with."

Milly chuckled. "What’s life without a little excitement?"

"Excitement?"

Milly shook her head. "I’ve been around the block a few times, my dear. And I’ll tell you something. Life can be a long succession of dull, boring days if you let it. It’s easy to be boring. It’s a lot harder to make things interesting. Some people will tell you that life passes quickly. But it doesn’t, not really. Not if you’re doing it right, not if you’re treasuring every moment and grasping every opportunity with both hands. Not if you’re surrounded by the right people."

Elliott wasn’t entirely sure what Milly was talking about, why what she was saying was relevant. But then, Milly always had liked to drift off into her own musings. Perhaps that was all this was. "Right," she said. "I’ll… um… remember that. And I’d better let you go. I’m sure it’s going to be dinnertime soon."

Elliott walked out of the retirement home feeling worse than when she'd arrived, which was quite an achievement given that she'd started the day at rock bottom. Turned out that rock bottom had a cellar.

Shay had told her to take risks. Milly had looked at her like she'd failed some fundamental test of being human. Maybe they were both wrong. Maybe the problem wasn't that Elliott pushed people away, maybe the problem was that she'd let Julia in at all. She'd let herself hope. Let herself believe that someone could actually understand her, accept her, love her without trying to change her.

And look where that had gotten her. Sleeping on Shay's sofa, surrounded by coral cushions, unable to work, unable to eat, unable to do anything except replay that fight in her head and wonder if she'd made a terrible mistake.

No. Not a mistake. A necessary decision. Self-preservation.

She'd been right to leave. Right to protect herself. Right to…

All that right. And yet she felt so wrong.

That didn’t add up.

So what now? Shay was right about the cookbook being finished. But everything else was finished too, and Elliott didn’t know how to move on, didn’t know how to get out of the hole she’d fallen into. Or even if she wanted to get out at all.

Chapter Thirty

Julia's phone rang at seven in the morning, which could only mean one thing.

"Darling!" Gabby's voice was aggressively cheerful. "I'm calling for an update. How's my little bakery doing?"

Julia pressed the phone to her ear and stared at the ceiling of the flat. Her flat now, empty and too quiet. No sounds of Elliott moving around in the kitchen. No smell of something delicious being created downstairs. She was still sleeping on the couch. She couldn’t bring herself to take over the bed.

"It's… there have been some changes," Julia said carefully.

"Changes?" Gabby's tone sharpened. "What kind of changes? Julia, I gave you two months. You were the one who told me to keep the place open."

Julia's stomach somersaulted. She… she couldn’t do this. Just… couldn’t. "Mum, I need to tell you something."

The words were right there. I'm not a baker. I've never been a baker. Elliott did everything and now she's gone and I'm alone and I don't want this life, I want to be a nurse, I've always wanted to be a nurse, and I'm tired of pretending to be someone I'm not just to make you happy.

"Yes?" Gabby prompted. "What is it? I haven't got all day, darling. There's a production meeting in twenty minutes."

Julia opened her mouth. Closed it. Her throat felt tight. She just had to say those words. The ones that were right there in her head. That was all.

But she couldn’t. It was like someone else was controlling her tongue.

"We're, um, doing some… renovations," she heard herself say. "New directions. It's all very exciting. I'll fill you in when you visit."

Coward. She was such a coward. She’d always been one. She had no backbone and she was almost thirty. What was the chance of her suddenly developing a spine right now?

"Renovations?" Gabby sounded suspicious. "What kind of renovations?"

Because lying to her mother was easier than telling the truth. Always. "Nothing major. Just freshening things up. You know how it is." Julia's voice came out bright and fake, her professional people-pleaser tone. "Anyway, I should go. Lots to do. Bakery stuff. Very busy."

"Julia—"

"Love you, Mum! Talk soon!"