My email app shows one new message so I quickly open it, and my heart begins to race when I see that it’s from the same anonymous address.

This subject line simply says: You’re Not Special.

I swallow hard as I read on.

Thought you’d want to know what he does behind your back. Imagine all the fun he’ll have on the road.

Sincerely,

A Concerned Citizen

When I scroll down further, I find a photo attachment. I click on it and gasp the moment the picture appears on my screen. Tears burn my eyes before they spill out because there, clear as day, are Tyke and Josie . . .

Kissing.

“Change” – Deftones

The strings beneath my calloused fingers vibrate with the rhythm of the new song I’m working on. It’s a grungy, up-tempo beat that could definitely be considered single material. I hum the bar as I pause and jot down a few notes into my notebook.

I can’t wait to get into the studio and lay down some tracks to a few of the songs I’ve written over the past couple of days. Ever since Frannie and I opened up to one another, I feel like a weight has been lifted, allowing the creativity to radiate from me. It’s been a long time since I felt so focused.

“Hey, Tyke,” Josie’s voice cuts through my concentration and grates on my nerves.

This chick is fucking relentless.

“Hey.”

I answer without glancing in her direction, hoping she’ll take the hint that I’m busy and go away. Unfortunately, that doesn’t work, and instead, she plops down next to me on the bench in front of the fountain and sighs. “I’ve never been out here before. It’s nice. A little too quiet for my taste, but nice.”

“Well maybe you should go back inside, then,” I snap, giving her a more direct hint that she’s not wanted out here.

It doesn’t faze her because she shrugs. “I’d rather not if you’re out here.”

I shake my head. “Look, Josie, you and me . . . it’s not going to happen.” She opens her mouth to protest but I quickly cut her off. “Ever.”

Her lips twist and her head snaps back. “You can’t turn me down. Men don’t do that to me. Not when I offer then what I’m about to give you.”

I scrub my hand down my face and count to ten in my head so I don’t fucking lose it with this pushy bitch. “Read my fucking lips: I’m—not—interested. Go away.”

She flinches, but then grins before reaching over and grabbing my face and smashing her lips to mine. This takes me by surprise, and I quickly shove her off me. I wipe my mouth with the back of my hand as I stand. “Don’t ever touch me again.”

The grin on her face falls when she takes in the contempt in my expression.

I don’t give her a chance to say anything else before I grab my shit and get the fuck out of there. Flirting with these unstable women was a horrible fucking idea. I’m so glad Frannie finally came to her senses because I don’t know how much longer I could have put up with Josie’s psychotic, pushy ass.

When I get back to my room, I pull out my phone and text Frannie. She only left this morning, but I miss her already. This place isn’t the same without her.

I fire a text off to let her know that I’m thinking of her.

Tyke: I miss you.

I lay my phone down on the nightstand and then drift off to sleep as I wait on her response.

The next morning, I shove my legs over the side of the bed and sit up. I scrub the sleep out of my eyes and then reach for my cell.

No response from Frannie. A frown creeps over my lips. I’m severely disappointed. I think our relationship is at a point where I warrant a reply, especially considering it only takes a couple seconds to respond back to a text.

I finish getting ready, deciding not to let it get me down too much because it’s possible she was really busy, or her phone could have been dead after traveling. As soon as I make it to the dining room, I find myself face-to-face with Josie, who doesn’t look too pleased to see me this morning. Her glare tells me that if she could shoot me and get away with it, I’d already be a dead man.

I think the bitch finally got the hint. All it took was for me to be a major dick to make her understand that she and I weren’t going to fucking happen.

Throughout breakfast, I obsessively check my phone like a crushing schoolgirl, waiting for Frannie to message me back. I’ve sent her three more texts but won’t allow myself to send any more because it would just make me look even more desperate.

It’s not until it’s nearly dinnertime that I begin to worry, choosing to wander around outside because I’m too antsy to stay in the main house.

Mine and Frannie’s relationship is still pretty fresh, and we’ve got a lot to learn about each other as we continue to grow together, so I’m not sure if this lack of communication is an indication that she’s pissed at me for something that I’m unaware that I’ve done, or if she’s just busy. I need to let her know that if I’ve done something, I’m sorry.

I set out toward her cottage, completely unsure if I can even get in, but that’s the best place to leave a note without it being discovered.

One of the things I’ve learned during this treatment program is to tell people exactly how I feel, instead of bottling my emotions up. Doing that was one of the things that pushed me deeper into my downward spiral. I hope Frannie, of all people, will understand that I need communication.

When her cottage comes into view, I quicken my pace and rush to the front door. I turn the knob, but it’s locked tight.