I turn my attention to Abby as Lena tells her the whole story of how we had found the T-shirt on the bed and the note, promising Lena that Julian hadn’t let her go. Abby’s eyes widen slightly, her eyebrows curve and raise onto her forehead. A small gasp of air escapes her mouth, stunned to hear what Lena is telling her.
“So, Julian broke into your apartment?” She’s asking Lena the question, but her focus is on me. I’m not sure why but I answer her anyway.
I lift my shoulder, absentmindedly shoving a sliced noodle in my mouth. “I mean, he didn’t sign the note but there’s no way it could be anyone else. The only person who knew about the Bruins shirt is the three of us and him.”
Lena leans forward, resting her elbows on the edge of the table. Her eyes turn to glass, tears threatening to spill over her soft cheeks. “I’m so sorry, Abby. I wanted to tell you. I did.”
“Why didn’t you?” Abby’s voice quivers. She presses her lips together and holds her breath. I can tell this is hard for both of them.
“I would have but my phone was broken,” Lena explains. “I dropped it on the sidewalk when we got back from the store that night, right before we found out the apartment had been broken into.”
A single tear slides down Abby’s cheek. Her mascara is starting to run down her face, following the same path as the tear. “I wish you would have at least let me know. You know I would have been there for you.”
“I know you would have.” Lena’s eyes sadden.
All three of us sit in silence, leaving our food untouched. Abby hasn’t stopped staring at Lena and the sun has nearly disappeared now. The sky is a deep blue-black color, the moon peeking out from between the gray clouds.
Abby takes another sip of her wine, finishing off the rest. “Do you think Julian knows where you are?”
“We’re not entirely sure.” I reach for the wine bottle, refilling Abby’s glass. My eyes gravitate toward Lena, checking to see her reaction. The worry in Lena’s face is clear. She still believes Julian knows where she is. Always.
“We are careful though. Luckily, the house came with a security system when we moved in.” Lena glances over her shoulder, pointing to the white key pad on the wall near the door.
“Good,” Abby says, tipping her chin up. “So, you have cameras, then?”
“No, but it’s a great system and it works for what we need. Plus, we haven’t seen any sign of Julian since that last night in Providence,” I add.
Abby simply nods, picking up her fork. She spins it, swirling the pasta around the end until she has a good amount.
“So, Logan,” Abby says, clearly changing the subject. “Lena tells me you work at Bistro 59?”
“I do.” I nod. “I’m the executive chef. You and Lena should come in and grab some lunch sometime. On me.” I smile at Abby, thankful for the change in subject. The mood in the room has now shifted and I couldn’t be more relieved. Julian still has a way of darkening a room even when he isn’t in it.
“That sounds great.” Abby spreads her mouth into a closed-lip smile, and we continue to eat without another word about Julian or the day Lena and I left Providence. I’m not sure what it is but Abby’s presence here reminds me of being back home.
Lena has been friends with Abby ever since her second year of college. For me, Abby had never gotten too close. From what I knew, she came from a prominent family back in California, much like Lena’s parents. I guess they had that in common.
After dinner, Abby stays long enough to have another glass of wine. Her and Lena make their way to the back porch, settling into the wooden chairs surrounding the firepit. Abby sits with her feet up on the chair beside her. She lights a cigarette, inhaling a deep drag before blowing it out.
I decide to stay inside, knowing they probably want to spend some time with just each other.
I’ve put all the dishes away when my phone rings from the dining room table. I walk over to pick it up, seeing Max’s name pop up on the screen.
“Hey, Max.”
“Hey, Logan. I’m sorry to call you on your night off.”
“That’s okay.” The sliding back door leading to the back yard is open wide, allowing the cool night air to blow through the large open living and dining area of our house. “What’s going on?”
“Well, I was hoping you might be able to stop by the restaurant to help Natalie close up tonight.”
“Is everything okay?” My chest sinks, knowing Max was supposed to be there tonight to teach Natalie how to shut everything down. Something major must have happened for Max to be pulled away from the restaurant on one of the busiest nights of the week.
“No, not really.” He sighs. The engine of Max’s Audi purrs in the background. “Apparently, a pipe burst in my apartment building and flooded my entire condo.”
“Oh, shit man. I’m so sorry.” I clench my teeth, imagining the mess Max is about to walk in on when he makes it to his thirty-first floor palatial condo.
“Yeah,” he deadpans. “That’s why I need you to run to the restaurant.”
Lena and Abby walk in, dropping their glasses of wine in the sink. Lena stares at me from across the kitchen, her eyebrows knitting with concern.
“Of course. I’m heading there right now.” I start to make my way across the living room, finding my keys and wallet on the side table close to the front door.
“Awesome. Thank you,” Max says, clearly relieved. He quickly hangs up.
“Is everything okay?” Lena asks. Abby stands beside her in the kitchen, her arms
