“I’ll text you our address and what time after I talk to Logan.” I step forward, wrapping my arms around Abby. The familiar scent of menthol tobacco lingers against her skin, bringing me back to the time we spent together. It feels good to have my best friend back in my life.
She hugs me back, squeezing me just as tight as she had when she walked into the coffee shop. “I’ll look forward to getting your text.”
I release Abby and leave the coffee shop.
I push against the large glass door, welcoming the cool summer air flash against my face. Maybe the emptiness I had in my heart didn’t have to be temporarily filled. Maybe it could be permanent. Maybe it could be mended, one stitch at a time.
By the time I make it to my car, I realize that Abby’s absence played a bigger role in my life than I knew. And I intended to make up for everything that happened between us, no matter what it took.
Six
Logan
I couldn’t believe it.
Abby was back and sitting at our dining room table, a full glass of red wine perched in her hand.
When Lena had told me about Abby finding her, a part of me was a bit apprehensive. If Abby had found Lena so easily, it left me wondering how easy it would be for Julian to find her, to find us.
I wanted to be the protective husband, maybe suggesting to Lena that she should consider scaling back her design business a bit. I knew it was an idea Lena wouldn’t buy. She had worked too hard to build her design business, rediscovering her passion for it. Since I knew she wouldn’t be thrilled with the idea of scaling back her work, I decided to leave the topic untouched.
Abby’s presence quickly changed Lena in a matter of days. It was enough for me to push my worries aside for the time being. I could tell having Abby back was Lena’s chance to make it right. It was her chance to heal the guilt that had festered over the past year.
Once again, I decide to shelve my fear of Abby’s ability to find us right beside every other concern I’ve shielded from my wife.
Ever since Lena had come home three days ago from the meeting with Abby, she’s been different. Sitting across from Abby at our dining room table was a brighter, happier version of Lena. A side I hadn’t seen since before we left Providence.
I strain the fettucine noodles and toss them in my signature truffle sauce, pouring them into a large porcelain bowl. Lena’s eyes shift to me as I make my way into the dining room. Three creases form in the corner of her eyes as she smiles at me. The sparkle in her jade colored eyes causes my chest to beat nearly out of my chest. The neckline of her loose floral sundress dips between her breasts. They’re two perfectly round mounds of flesh and my mouth has kissed every square inch of them. They press together as she leans forward on the table, resting her elbows on the edge. Fuck. My dick grows hard for her and I do everything I can to think of anything else but my wife.
I clench my jaw tighter knowing there’s no way I could shove Abby out of our house, reminding Lena how much she means to me.
“What’d I miss?” I ask, placing the bowl of pasta in the center of the table, beside the garlic bread I’d made ahead of time. The hard-on I’d felt coming has begun to subside. I need a change of subject.
I sit between both women, at the head of the table. Lena reaches across and grabs Abby’s plate, serving her a large helping of noodles.
“Nothing,” Lena says. “Abby and I were just talking about her time in Los Angeles this past year.”
“Oh. How was it?” I ask Abby. “I’ve never been to California.”
Abby takes a sip of her wine and shrugs. “It was okay, but I think after living in the Northeast for a few years I got used to the cold winters.” She shifts her eyes from me to Lena. “I like Seattle much better.”
“Honestly, that’s part of the reason Lena and I moved out here.” I break off a piece of garlic bread and pop it in my mouth. “It’s cold here in the wintertime but it’s cold in a different way. New England could be very bitter in the winter.”
Lena nods, agreeing. Abby looks between me and Lena as she sits back against her chair. Her silver hair is pin straight, the ends floating just past her shoulders. I can tell she’s studying me, searching for something. I’m just not sure what it is. “Speaking of,” Abby says, breaking the silence in the room. She turns her gaze on Lena. “Why did you both leave Providence?”
As if on instinct, both Lena and I shift in our seats. The wood creaks against our movements, slicing through the tension clouding the air.
The sun has begun to set behind Abby’s seat at the table. A deep orange color surrounds her, the purple black sky blending in with the clouds, signaling it’ll soon be nighttime.
I look at Lena, knowing she’s the one who wanted to answer this question. When Lena first told me about Abby’s return, I had asked her if she explained to her why we left. A part of me felt selfish for even thinking that I didn’t want Abby to think I forced Lena to leave her behind, that I was the driving force in suddenly severing their friendship.
Lena clears her throat, taking two large gulps of her wine. Her smooth neck dips as the wine makes
