If you leave this time I fear that you'll be gone for good
So I hold on like leaves and fall to what is left
Said her father left her young and he said he'll be back
With that same tone that you just said you'll stay forever with

Chris Brown - Autumn Leaves


"Gidget?"

Franky stared at the blonde woman, her mouth suddenly dry. She could not believe it was really her. They both stood motionless for a few seconds, but it seemed much, much longer. Neither woman blinked, their eyes drinking in each other. Franky didn't know whether to laugh or cry; there stood the woman that gave her hope but left her with nothing but a broken promise. She was used to those she loved walking out of her life; her father, then Bridget. But Franky had allowed herself to feel something and Bridget had crushed that, intentional or not. Franky broke the spell first.

"It really is you, Gidge."

Bridget's heart contracted at the way Franky looked at her, that genuine smile reserved for few. Franky called her her nickname. It was a name full of meaning, only Franky had called her that. She was taken back to Wentworth, just after she had saved Franky's parole hearing.

"Thanks Gidget!" The sparkle in Franky's eye made it impossible for Bridget to correct her and mean it, so she smiled instead.

"Bridget...!"

"I prefer Gidget!" Franky winked and stuck out her tongue. Bridget shook her head, smiling, and turned on her heels, sensing trouble was looming.

She couldn't decide whether to grab Franky and never let her go, or run in the opposite direction. She chose the latter. Franky's proximity was almost overwhelming. Staying and speaking to her would mean having her heart ripped out, again, and she feared the pain may just end her.

"I'm sorry Franky, I need to go." Bridget hurriedly made for the exit

"Gidge, wait!" Franky said. She followed her and softly grabbed her arm, willing her to not walk out again. "I just wanted to see how you were. It's been a while." Franky stared at her, her blue eyes wide with wonder. She needed to hold it together, but Bridget Westfall knew how to unravel her. "How are you?"

Bridget swallowed. "Things are good Franky," she began, a small smile on her face. "I've been lecturing at the local university, keeping busy, you know how it is." She kept to the small talk. "How long have you been out?"

"Just over a year," Franky replied. "I stuffed my parole, did an extra 6 months but I walked out of that shitheap and never looked back. I finished my legal studies and i'm working with a legal aid company, helping those who need it. Like I did once I guess." She shrugged and left it as that, not willing to elaborate. There was nothing else to say about her life; she wouldn't tell Bridget how her life fell to pieces after she left, how she stuffed up her parole and how she was even more guarded now than ever before.

"You look happy," Bridget smiled, hoped she was. Happier than her anyway.

"You know, just getting on with life." Franky paused, not knowing whether to open her mouth and cross the line, to see Bridget wince. "I've got a job, a new girl, could be worse." Franky instantly regretted the words as soon as they came out of her mouth. She saw Bridget's mouth twitch.

"I'm glad it's all worked out for you, Franky, I really am." Bridget tucked a lock of blonde hair behind her right ear and Franky's heart sunk, wishing she could take those words back. "I best get going, you look after yourself Franky. It was great to see you."

"Gidge, please. Wait." Their eyes locked again and Franky was transported back to the first time they realised that they felt something for each other. She sprawled through her bag for a pen and a scrap of paper but failed. She pulled out her eye liner instead, the one which painted her trademark kohl-rimmed green eyes. She scrawled her number down on the back of a clothing receipt and tucked the paper into Bridget's jacket pocket. "Call me yeah? Just promise you'll call me."

Franky turned on her heels, and went back into the bar. Bridget stood on the pavement, her eyes tearing over. Get a grip, woman, she told herself. She took the paper out of her pocket, folded it up and tucked it into her purse, already knowing full well she would not throw it into the bin.

Franky sat back down at the table which her and Della, her new girlfriend, were sat at.

"Long toilet break babe," Della said, drinking her rum and coke. "Have anything to do with that hot blonde I saw you chase after?"

"Nah, she was just an old friend, from my prison days," Franky lied. "Thought I would say hi but she had to rush off."

Franky downed the rest of her beer in one, not listening to anything Della was saying. She thought of the blonde haired woman who'd broken her heart, and couldn't quite decide whether she hated her or loved her. But people only hated those that they loved, right?