I walk down the street, my laptop bag strapped around my shoulder. Every ten steps, I find myself looking over my shoulder, hoping not to catch a glimpse of blond hair and those intense green eyes I know too well.
I didn’t get much sleep after reading Julian’s email last night. I laid in bed for hours, staring out my window. Sleep was chasing me until I finally gave up, allowing it to swallow me whole when the sun began to rise, and the birds began to chirp. The daylight had brought me a sense of comfort, allowing me to sleep for at least three hours before I had to wake up and meet Abby.
Unlike the comfort and safety of my own house, the daylight no longer brought me that same relief. The sun peeks out between the tall buildings surrounding me as I make my way down the sidewalk. I keep my eyes focused on my feet, telling myself to take another step. My feet are heavy much like the thoughts weighing down in my head. When I woke up this morning, Logan was still wrapped up in bed. I knew today started his weeklong nights of closing shifts and that he would need the extra sleep. I slipped out without waking him, waiting to text him until I was parked outside Abby’s office.
Abby’s waiting outside for me, a brown bag tightly held in her hand. “I brought some donuts.” She holds it up then points to my laptop. “Oh good, you brought it. I can’t wait to see what you designed.”
“Can we talk?” I wince, not looking forward to this conversation.
It feels like just yesterday when Abby came back into my life. The past had always lingered around me and Logan, never fully setting us free. But it felt as if Abby had dragged the past back with her, making it more present in my life than it already was. I didn’t know what to believe anymore. Or who.
Her face falls and her red painted lips pout. Her fully sculpted eyebrows dip. “Of course.”
Abby unlocks the front door and I follow her inside. The open office space doesn’t smell any better than it had the first time I was here. No furniture has been moved. Abby hasn’t touched a thing since she bought the place.
“I know what you’re thinking.” Abby sets the bag of donuts on one of the old metal desks, sitting herself down in the chair behind it. I set my bag on the same desk and pull up one of the other chairs, looking around. “It’s still a work in progress.” she adds.
I dig my laptop out of my bag and sigh. There are more problems on my mind than Abby’s lack of progress on her business space. “You aren’t kidding,” I mutter. I try to give her a small smile, scraping to find any bit of humor I might still have. I come up short.
Abby ignores my comment and opens the brown bag, pulling out two donuts. One is covered in chocolate frosting and sprinkles; the other with crushed cookies on top.
She hands me the one with the cookies and takes a large bite of the sprinkled. “What did you want to talk about?” she asks after swallowing her first bite.
Looking down at my donut, I pick at the cookie crumbs then look over my shoulder to the front door. The windows are still covered in a thick film of dust. The occasional shadow of a passerby flashes across the window. It’s hard to see the street from where I’m sitting.
I turn back to Abby, still leaving the donut untouched. “I wanted to talk to you about last night.”
“Oh,” Abby says, wiping her mouth with a napkin. She waves me off. ” Nothing happened between me and Max.”
“What?” I narrow my eyes, stunned with Abby. We used to be close. We used to be able to tell what the other was feeling without actually having to say it. I thought Abby’s return would bring back the same kind of relationship we used to have. But ever since she’s been back, I feel like were on two opposite sides of the magnet, never quite connecting the way we should.
“Yeah.” She nods, taking another bite of donut. She raises her shoulder, shrugging. “He’s too cocky and arrogant. I’m not into that, you know?”
“Actually, that’s not what I wanted to talk about.”
“Oh.” She drops her half-eaten donut and it’s as if she’s looking at me for the first time today. “What’s going on?”
“I wanted to talk about what happened last night.”
Her eyebrows knit in confusion. When she doesn’t show any sign of understanding where I’m heading with the conversation, I continue. “Telling Max and Logan about what happened that night at The Dive?”
“Oh, right.” She stops chewing and sits back in her chair, resting her elbows on the arms. “Was that not okay?”
“Well, no, actually.” I tilt my head and breathe out a heavy sigh. “For one, I never told Logan that story because I didn’t want him knowing how Julian punished me for what happened that night. And two, we made a promise to never talk about him again.”
“How was I supposed to know that, Lena?” She points to her chest, sitting back up in her chair. “That was a promise between you and Logan. Not me.” She’s getting more defensive the more the conversation goes on. I wasn’t sure how she’d take it, hoping she would know how talking about it would make me feel. Instead, she had no clue how it felt like she’d severed and reopened an old wound.
I attempt to keep my voice down, not wanting to fight with Abby. The people I had around me were slowly starting to slip away. I didn’t want to lose Abby before I’d even begun to have her back.
I run my hands through my hair, pushing it back away from my face. Resting
