11. Emma

The following day, I wake up less hungover than I expected after some tear-wine-driven goodbyes. Probably due to the sheer volume of food I ate. It reminds me of the mac and cheese, which I need to throw out now. Staring at the ceiling as I lie in bed, I breathe in deeply and turn over, reaching for my phone.

Squinting at it as my eyes adjust, I see a message from Carrick.

"Ugh," I mutter but open it, anyway.

You're such a bitch. I'm trying to make this right and you won't even talk to me.

"Really?" I drawl. "Gaslighting now. You are one giant red flag, fuckface, and I'm glad to be getting away from you." I do what I should've done in the first place: block his number and switch my phone off. Even though he knows where I live, it's an hour from his place to mine on the train, so I highly doubt he will make the trek on a weekday and tomorrow, I will be out of here at the crack of dawn. So fuck him.

Once I'm up, showered and dressed, I drag the suitcases and boxes to the front door, ready to be hauled out in the morning. The car is parked in a garage down the block, so I'll go get it in a bit and pack it up. It will be safe back in the garage until tomorrow, when I can just get up and go. It's going to be really weird not being here in London anymore. My entire adult life has been here. It's sad and exciting at the same time. But going back home, a town I never thought I would live in again, makes it fall flat a bit. I just hope that I can get my head around the hockey stuff in order to enjoy owning the team.

Regretting my decision almost instantly to not have my phone switched on today, I stare out of the window and then frown when there is a frantic buzzing of the doorbell.

"Carrick?" I murmur. Really hoping I don't have to deal with him, I creep to the door as whoever on the other side keeps their finger pressed down on the bell, driving me to distraction. Peering through the peephole, I see Anna dressed in dark glasses and a hoodie pulled over her blonde hair.

Yanking the door open to stop that incessant noise in my ears, I hold my hand up. "Pack that in, will you? What's the problem?" I glance down at the small suitcase on wheels at her feet along with a massive holdall that is probably the same size as she is. "Going somewhere?"

"Shush," she murmurs and grabs her bags, dragging them into the flat, pushing me out of the way in the process.

"Hey," I grumble. "What is this? Who are you running from?"

"Me," she says, turning to face me as I close the door and lean against it, eyeing her warily.

"Huh?"

"I'm coming with you."

I cheer up instantly. "Oh, fuck yeah. Road trip and hollibobs. Nice. How long are you coming for?"

She inhales deeply and then pulls her glasses slowly down her nose to stare at me. "Forever."

She doesn't blink, even when my eyes resemble something out of a cartoon.

"Forever?" I sputter, nearly choking on my saliva. "What the hell, Anna? You can't just decide to up and leave London like that!"

"Why not? You are!" She drops her bags and flops onto my sofa, looking more relaxed than she has any right to be.

"You can't use that as an excuse. My dad gave me a hockey team to run and a hefty pay to go with it. What do you plan on doing?"

"Look. I've got savings—a lot of savings. I've invested wisely since I knew what money was—the perks of being a banker's daughter—and I can live off them for a few years at least."

"Wow," I mutter. "What about your new director job?"

She sighs. "I'm…" She gulps and trails off.

"What?" I sit next to her, suddenly sensing the major shift in the atmosphere.

"Unhappy," she says quietly. "I have been for a while. The drudgery, the same old boring shit day in day, the people, the attitude, the whole city is just not the vibe I'm looking for right now. I want to slow down and maybe, you know, settle down. Looking for a guy here is like looking at your worst nightmares and trying to pick the one that is the least horrific."

"Well, I can't argue with that," I mutter.

"I'm thirty now, Em. I want more, and I can't get that here."

"And you think moving your entire life to Scotland will get you what you want?"

"It can't fucking hurt to try."

She seems so full of sorrow and deflated that I can only assume she is being deadly serious, and this isn't some whim to follow a fantasy she has.

"In that case, you're paying for your half of the petrol and rent on the new place."

"Really?" she peeks at me out of those big blue eyes, and I nod.

"Really. You're my best mate. If this is what you want, then I'm all in on the support train."

"Yay!" she says, clapping her hands. Her smile lights up the room. "This is going to be epic!"

"I hope so. Don't know anything about hockey, do you?" I ask hopefully.

"Nope, sorry, but I can quiz you and stuff if we get a dummies guide."

"Spoken like a true bestie who is as clueless as I am."

We giggle and I suddenly feel a thousand times better about this move. It's going to be great having Anna around, someone who feels my pain and can get on board when I need a pity party because the team decide they want to make life difficult for me. I'm under no illusions that I'm going to waltz in there, and everyone is going to kiss my feet. Kick me up my arse is more the vibe I'm expecting.

"The car is going to be squished tight."

"Shall we have a trial run?" she asks.

"Better had. We might need a degree in Engineering to figure this out."

She giggles and stands up.

"What right now?"

"Why not?"

Shrugging, I also rise and slip my shoes on. We head out the door, the keys shoved in my jeans pocket, and we make our way down the road to the garage, where the Mini is lounging around, waiting for a chance at the open road. Well, it's going to get it, and then some tomorrow.

Climbing in, I start up the poor car, starved of affection, and it chokes to life. I remember to check the oil and water and the tyre pressure as well once we've parked up outside the flat. It's a Loading Bay for the shops, but we're loading so… that counts, right?

I park up, and Anna waits with the car while I go up to the flat to bring stuff down. I start with the two suitcases because logic says I can pack boxes on top of them. I feel quite proud of this thought.

Wheeling them out to the car, I remark, "This is going to be some Tetris-level shit."

"I happen to be an expert at that game," Anna boasts from the back seat where her arse is sticking out. She settles the seats flat and then goes around to pop the boot. At least she is helping and not standing around waiting for me to do it all.

We each grab a suitcase and shove them in, pushing them up as far as they'll go.

"So far, so good," Anna says, dusting off her hands. "I'll go get my bags."

Nodding as I wait for her, I move around to the front and pull the lever for the bonnet and grab a tissue from the handy pack in the middle console. Checking over the water, which is fine, I turn to the oil, pulling out the dipstick, chuckling as I think of Carrick, and then wiping it off to dip again for a clear reading. Pulling it back out, that is also looking good. I turn my attention to the tyres, checking the pressure with the portable gauge Dad insisted I get. I crank it on, and it makes a terrible racket, but with a little adjustment here and there, the tyres are looking good, too. Check!

Anna returns and lifts her bags into the boot, trying to angle her massive holdall in without crushing everything else, and it's not going well.

"I swear this bag has a life of its own," she grumbles, finally managing to wedge it in on top of my cases. "If it pops open mid-journey, we're buggered."

"Let me get the boxes. This will be the real test now."

Anna nods, and she focuses on getting her little suitcase in.

Grabbing a box, I start the tedious up and down with my four boxes, hoping to fuck this will all fit in now. I was brutal in my packing, and I don't really want to leave anything that I've already packed behind.

Once all four boxes are on the pavement, Anna and I share a look of solidarity and between us manage to get the four boxes squashed in.

"But will we be able to close the boot?" I ask, reaching up and grabbing the edge to slam down. It bounces back up.

"Guess that's a no," Anna mutters with consternation.

"Wait," I say. "We've only just got started with this shit." I slam it again and push my sizeable rear end on it to keep it closed while Anna places her hands on it and shoves with force, so the car bounces slightly.

"Do you think it's safe to move?" I ask.

"Only one way to find out…"

Edging away and then darting a few paces forward, I turn to see the boot still closed, although the Mini looks a little saggy around its bottom.

Yeah, me too, Mini. Me too.

"Yay!" Anna says clapping. "So, do we leave now?"

"No," I say, giving her an are-you-crazy-look. "It's a ten-hour drive without stops. We leave at 3 AM."

Her eyes go wide. "Are you fucking joking?"

"Nope." I climb back into the driver's seat, and she slides in next to me, seeing if she can push the passenger seat back a bit.

Spoiler Alert: she can't.

"Well," she huffs. "I wish you'd mentioned that earlier."

"You didn't do any research on this?" I ask, my voice sugary-sweet.

"Apparently not enough," she grouses, making me chuckle as I drive the short distance back to the garage to leave the car packed and ready for us in the morning.