Encounters With Abigail

Chapter Eighteen

    TW: Parental loss, drowning, brief mentions of verbal abuse

    Entirely too quickly for my liking I'm loitering outside Abigail's door trying to will my hand to knock. Anna clears her throat from her garden, shooting her a scowl before my fist makes contact with the door, the knocking rings in my ears.

   If I was Abi, I would tell me to fuck off and never come back again, but I beg that she does the opposite since I'm not sure if I could deal with that right now. Rubbing the back of my neck I try to keep breathing at a normal pace as my foot begins frantically tapping on the ground.

  The door opens painfully slow revealing Abi who glares at me, her eyes are red and expression wounded causing guilt to hit me like a train. How fucking stupid was I to think that leaving the way I did this morning wouldn't affect her in any way especially after how much time we have spent together recently.

  She trusted me enough to let me into her home when I turned up here soaked unannounced last week but I didn't believe in her affection for me enough to even try to fill her in on what was causing my pain this morning. I just ran away from her. Anna is right I need to let someone in and if needs be I will grovel on my hands and knees until this incredible woman forgives me.

  Raising the bottle of vodka in my hand -I had requested absinthe but Anna refused - "I will share my trauma if you share yours" I try to keep it playful but my mouth and throat are dry. Abigail stays silent only moving to one side allowing me to enter, I walk past her and straight to the kitchen, while she locks the door behind me.

  Grabbing two glasses I pour us both a shot. I throw mine back pouring another quickly swallowing that too, Abigail sits on the other side of the breakfast bar and shots the vodka I poured so I refill both our glasses. Holding my glass in front of her and releasing a long breath when she clinks hers with mine.

   Closing my eyes trying to find where to start "My father has always worked; he wanted my mum to have the best of things even although she only ever wanted her husband to be home for dinner. He had no desire for kids but my mum was desperate for them so he relented but took as little to do with us as possible. He was never around for birthdays or any events... unless it was my mum's he never missed a birthday or anniversary, he loved her more than life itself" a lump rises in my throat as my foot starts hammering against the ground.

 "I was eighteen, Anna was away at summer camp in the states, she begged our parents to go for months and thank God, they let her or she would have been with us that day." I clench my hands into fists using the tension to focus. "Our father was never present during our summer holiday and that one was to be my last as well since I was meant to start uni a few weeks later."

  Dropping my eyes to the counter top attempting to blink away the tears threatening to fall. "Mum loved the sea she always said it centred her so regardless of our protests summer holidays were always spend in some seaside resort in Europe but since it was just the two of us that year, she suggested that we hire a car and drive down the coast to visit as many towns as possible."

   I struggle to keep my breathing level so instead choosing to distract myself by reaching a shaking hand to the bottle pouring us both another shot. I drink mine using the burning to keep pushing forward.

  "We visited some shitty museum themed around clowns; mum insisted it would be hilariously weird and to be fair it was. We spent so much time looking at an embarrassing amount of clown memorabilia that we missed the storm rolling in."

   Anxiety begins flowing through me as Abigail places her hand over mine giving me a reassuring squeeze. "Mum really hated to waste money so she had got us a deal on this shitty convertible but we didn't know just how shitty it was until the rain was bouncing off the ground and the roof refused to go up no matter what we tried."