Page 37 of Toxic Wishes

“Dang, this thing is still not over?” Two other large guys walk in as I grab one of the water bottles on the table, twisting the cap open. I nearly choke as I take a sip. You have to be kidding me. Josh’s brother is here? Josh was too occupied fucking that blonde chic and getting in trouble, so he never told me much about his brother before now, so I am not surprised he didn’t mention he would be at my cousin's baby shower.

I try to run off before he spots me, but when I catch his eye, I know I’m too late. He tips his head to the side, furrows his eyebrows together, and takes me in.

Yup, it’s me, asshole.

I don’t stop and say hi. I just continue to walk back into the living room. I sit back down and take a breath. I know he won’t chance coming in here with a bunch of drunk women, since my cousin decided to have wine and champagne for the guests.

“Okay, it’s picture time.” A lady says, jumping up from her seat.

Fuck me. Can I just catch a break?

“Let’s take it in front of the Oh baby sign,” Natasha says. Of course, she’s still bossing people around. I’m surprised she hasn’t asked me to do anything I don’t want, like crying in a closet. Memories of us playing together flood my mind as I watch Natasha conduct the show.

As much as I hated to admit it, it was lonely in California. Unlike here, that state is excellent for staying focused and busy. Everyone there is career-focused, so getting married and having kids is the furthest thing on their minds. But, if it weren’t for Josh and Melanie, I would have gone off the deep end, especially since I moved there shortly after Blake died. I was still a mess dealing with the guilt and memory of that night. I had nightmares where I would wake up in sweats and feel so out of control that I started starving myself again. And when I felt my body craving certain foods, I gave into the temptation and binged ate until my stomach hurt, throwing up afterward. It was a cycle of self-sabotage, and I knew I was sick, but I couldn’t stop. I did it for a year, thinking no one cared since I was alone until I found Josh and Mel. They helped me to snap out of it. And instead of using Blake's death as a punishment to myself, I used it as a wake-up call.

“Abs, come on,” I cringe at the sound of that name. It’s been years since I’ve heard someone call me that. My cousins are the only ones that knew Blake’s nickname for me, and it stuck, but they also knew his death took a toll on me.

“Sorry, Abigail,” Jenna adds when she sees my facial expression.

Reluctantly, I get up and walk over to the group of girls to get in the picture. One picture, that’s it, I tell myself. One of the girls jogs over to the selfie stick, putting the timer on her phone camera.

“Okay, everyone smile,” she says as she jogs back to her position. The timer goes off, and the camera flashes. I begin to walk off when the same girl goes.

“Okay, let's take another one for good measure, just in case anyone wasn’t looking.” I resume my position inwardly, cursing to myself.

The timer counts down again, the camera flashes again, and the girl speaks right after, again.

“Okay, now let's take one of the bride-momma over here by the balloons.” I take it as my cue to leave and find something comforting to do, like eat. I didn’t know anyone here except my family, so occupying my time surrounded by food instead of people, sounded like an excellent detour plan. I walk back into the kitchen and see it’s empty. Thank God. I stride over to the table, and place some veggies on my plate.

Ever since that day I was hospitalized, I developed a bad habit. I didn’t realize it was a habit until a few years ago. When I had the free pass of gaining weight after I was released, I bought tons of gum or sucked on candy to help with my cravings. My body was starving, and I knew once I started eating something, I could quickly feel myself binge. Shortly after came the urge to throw it all up, and since I became an expert at being bulimic, I knew how to vomit with little effort. So, to help myself through those temptations, I would carry gum or candy with me, and as soon as I felt full after eating, I put gum or candy in my mouth to stop me from overindulging. I developed somewhat of an oral fixation after that, which my ex-boyfriend had no problem dealing with. It felt like I had to always have something in my mouth. I was definitely what you would call a snacker. At first, I thought the nickname Minnie Mouse was cute, but after our first big fight and he said that name, it only irritated me, causing me to flinch anytime I heard the name Minnie Mouse, altogether.

“Why are you not in there taking photos?” A male voice asks behind me. I jerk, almost knocking my plate to the floor, as I turn around to see who I think it is.

“Oh, you,” I murmur, turning my attention back to my paper plate of rabbit food.

Josh’s brother chuckles lightly. “Ya figured you wouldn’t be so happy to see me.”

“Can you blame me?” I say, not looking at him.

“No, but can you blame me for being agitated? I walk into my lake house and see a bunch of empty cups and food scattered all around, then when I walk upstairs, I’m greeted to noises of my brother fucking and what I thought was the radio glaring in the other guest room.”

“Fair enough,” I say, munching on a carrot, appearing unamused.

“I wasn’t trying to be a dick towards you; I just wasn't expecting all that.”

I got a whiff of his cologne as he dipped a carrot in the ranch dressing on my plate, and when I looked up at him, he was smiling. He didn’t look like Josh, so I wondered if they were stepbrothers or something. But then again, I didn’t look like any of my family members either, and we were immediate family.

“No, that’s understandable. I guess I was agitated as well, hearing Josh get his jollies off all morning, on top of being hungry and hungover. An awful combo for a first impression.” I tell him

He laughs, and dimples form in the crevices of his cheeks, reminding me of Blake, and I can’t help but stare at him. Josh’s brother was hot.

Wait, no, he’s a douche. You are just deprived of having physical touch since your ex drove you to fuck your vibrator instead.

“That’s understandable, too.” His gaze feels intense as we stare each other down.

For some reason, he makes me feel like I’ve met him before or know him from somewhere. I can’t help but pull my eyes away from him. He looks over at his shoulder, wondering what I’m looking at, and when he realizes it’s him, he draws his attention back to me.

Breaking the awkwardness, I say, “Abigail,” and hold my hand out to him. He looks at my hand and then back at me, a slight curl forming at the end of his lips.

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