Second Chances

Secrets In Reality

"Here."

"What's this for?" Abigail asked, looking at me oddly.

"It's a drink called a beer," I joked.

"But we're at work," she hesitated. I cleared my throat when I thought about the last time she said we couldn't do something because we were at work.

"I'm not going to fire you because I gave you a drink at work," I teased. "Besides, we were supposed to be done over three hours ago. And it's the second weekend in a row that I've made you work late. Please take it so I don't feel so guilty."

She hesitated before finally taking it from me.

As we worked, we continued to drink. After the first two beers, Abigail didn't hesitate to take the next one. It soon got to the point where we were drinking more and working less. About two hours later, our work was set aside and we were still drinking.

"I probably shouldn't tell you this," Abigail giggled.

We had been at work for another hour, but we haven't been working. We were definitely both drunk.

"Tell away," I slurred.

"I think you hate me."

"What?" I stuttered, suddenly sober.

Abigail cleared her throat as she started picking at the wrapper on her beer.

"Abigail," I whispered. "I don't hate you. I appreciate all the hard work you do for me. Without you, I wouldn't be as successful as I am."

"That's not true," she stuttered. "I don't do that much for you."

"Now that's not true," I chuckled. I cleared my throat as I reached over and grabbed her hand. "I don't know where I would be without you."

Abigail smiled, her cheeks burning as she slowly pulled her hand out of mine. She reached up and tucked a piece of hair behind her ear.

"We should probably get back to work," she said, her voice low.

"Why?" I shrugged. I smiled as I opened another beer for her.

* * * * *

I looked up at Abigail and watched as she filed for me. I smiled as she started humming to herself. I bit my lip when last Friday's conversation popped back into my head. The fact that Abigail thought I hated her, destroyed me.

"Abigail?" I said before I could stop myself. She looked up at me and smiled.

"Yes, sir?"

"We knew each other," I blurted, "like before we started working together."

"That's true," she said, clearing her throat and looking away from me. "And we also talked about moving on."

"What happened with us?"

Abigail's head snapped up towards me as I blurted out my question.

"Are you serious?" She stuttered.

"I'm very serious, Abigail. What happened with us? We grew up next door to each other and then randomly stopped talking."

"It wasn't random," she said slowly.

"What do you mean?" I asked, my voice dropping.

She looked up at me but then shook her head and looked away. "We don't need to talk about this," she said quickly. "We can just forget it."

"I don't want to forget it, Abigail."

She sighed, finally giving in. "It was the first day of middle school. We walked in and your friends from the basketball team came running over. You made the team over the summer and spent those three months with them. You guys were talking and they looked at me."

"They looked at you?" I asked.

"You didn't see them," she said, her voice dropping. "They glared at me like I wasn't good enough. Like I wasn't good enough to be standing next to you, let alone hanging out with you. And. . ."

"Wait," I gently cut her off. "Are you trying to say that my team came between us?"

My anger built as tears formed in her eyes and she nodded her head. "They told me that a stud like you shouldn't be hanging out with a loser like me," she said as she played with her fingers. "And if I was really your friend, I'd leave you alone so you could make real friends. They told me to step aside so I wouldn't hold you back."

"Abigail," I said under my breath. "I had no idea. I'm so sorry."

She shrugged and cleared her throat, not looking up at me. As she looked at her watch, I noticed her go back to acting like my assistant and nothing more.

"You should get home," she said as she stood up, instantly fixing her skirt. She was able to avoid eye contact with me as she cleared our empty beer bottles. "You have an early meeting tomorrow and you should get some rest."

"Abigail," I tried to get her attention.

"I can push it back to 9 o'clock for you if you'd like," she continued like I didn't say anything. "I'll email you if I can't get them to come in later. I'll call you an Uber."

She was about to leave, but I quickly grabbed her wrist, stopping her. I didn't turn her around as I held her hand.

"I'm really sorry, Abigail," I whispered. "If I had known back then what they said to you, I would've kicked their asses and walked away with you."

"I wish I believed that," she said under her breath. My heart sank into my stomach when she pulled her hand out of mine and grabbed her bag from her desk, leaving as fast as she could.