Page 25 of Mine

“Oh yes, they do.” She laughs.

My stomach turns. It wasn’t the night itself that was bad. Memories of Julian getting angry with me, yelling at me and forcing me to apologize for embarrassing him was what made it probably one of my worst memories. He was there that night and never let me forget it.

“So, anyway,” Abby continues. “One of our friends told us about these so-called dive bars, including one actually called, ‘The Dive’. We had already been to about three other bars before we showed up to this one. Well, just so happens that when we walked in, it was a full-on rave club.” Abby leans back in her seat, lifting her arms dramatically. “I’m talking techno, neon lights, you name it. We were all so drunk already that we decided to just stay and grab a drink. After we had our first drink, Lena insisted we go out on the dance floor. Everyone was dancing to EDM music and thrashing around. We were about halfway through the first song when someone, I don’t even know who it was, spilled their entire drink down the front of Lena’s shirt.”

“What’s so funny about that?” Max asks, clearly still enthralled with Abby’s story.

Logan’s eyes constantly shift between me and Abby, unsure of where this story will lead. I can tell he’s gauging my reaction. I straighten my back, taking a sip of my water, trying to keep myself together. The last thing I need is to cause a scene.

I force myself to look at Logan, giving him a tight-lipped smile. It’s a failed attempt. He frowns. He feels bad for me, somehow knowing this story wasn’t one I wanted to relive.

“Hang on, I’m getting to the good part,” Abby says, touching Max’s arm. “Lena’s dress was completely soaked. I mean, an entire beer splashed across her chest, dripping to the floor. Instead of just leaving or going to the bathroom to dry it off, she decided to take her dress off.”

“What?” Max asks. His eyes widen as his gaze shifts to me. He grins. “You didn’t.”

“She did.” Abby nods. I’ve never seen her smile as big as it is now. “She completely took off her dress and tossed it into the crowd.”

My head pounds as I clench my teeth, feeling the muscles of my jaw tic with every second passing. I’m not sure why Abby felt the need to tell this particular story. There were a million stories we shared together and she just so happened to pick the most humiliating one. A story that was mine, not hers.

Max turns back to Abby. He’s been enthralled with her ever since we sat down for dinner, unable to take his eyes off her. I’m not sure how Abby feels about Max. We haven’t had a chance to talk about it so I’m not entirely sure what her intentions were with this dinner.

“What happened after she took off her dress?” Max asks between laughs.

Logan stays silent, sitting back in his chair. His hand rests on the table, clenched into a tight fist. The knuckles on his hand are now ghostly white from the pressure.

“All three of us got kicked out of the club,” Abby says lightly. She lifts her wine to her mouth, taking a sip.

“The three of you?” Max waves his finger between us. “Who else was with you?”

Abby grins and turns to look at me. “Lena’s boyfriend at the time. He had to find her dress in the crowd before we were allowed to leave.”

Heat rises in me, my chest pounding like the constant beat of a drum. I want to vomit like I did the other day in my driveway. I can feel the chunks rising in my throat.

Max starts laughing, clearly unaware of how abusive my ex-boyfriend used to be and the consequences I dealt with because of that night.

“Excuse me.” I stand up, sliding my chair back. The legs of my chair slide against the hardwood, squealing through the entire restaurant. All eyes land on me. “I’ll be right back,” I mutter.

I cross the dining room, walking as fast as I can before vomiting all over someone’s nearly one-hundred-dollar steak dinner. I bump into a chair and nearly trip as I get closer to the bathroom. Pushing against the door to the bathroom, I lock myself inside a stall and bend over the toilet. Nothing comes out. A complete contradiction to the way my stomach feels.

Once I feel like the sickness has subsided, I leave the stall and rinse my mouth out in the sink. Looking up into the mirror, I stare at my reflection. My hair is still curled around my face and my makeup is mostly still intact. The only difference is the tears lining my eyes, threatening to spill. I press my hands on the edge of the counter and look down, releasing a heavy breath. I try not to think about Julian. I also try to not think about Abby. My chin quivers and I know if I don’t pull myself together now, I’ll lose it.

Why would Abby do this? She knew what Julian said to me that night. She was there standing on the sidewalk as he pressed me up against a brick wall, screaming in my face, telling me he’d never been more embarrassed in his whole life. She knew he never let that night go, always reminding me that I needed to stay in my lane, pretending to be the perfect girlfriend.

I take a few minutes to bask in the silence and to get myself together. The combination of the email and Abby’s story had me feeling like my life was shifting in a direction I had no control over. Julian was everywhere, yet nowhere at the same time. I haven’t seen him in over a year, much less spoken to him. But he remained a constant wedge in my marriage and in my own head.

Once the tears in my eyes have dried, I wash my hands, telling myself to let it go. I push open the door to find Logan leaning against the far wall. It’s unfair how good he looks standing under the dim lights of the hallway. The walls are lined with an intense dark tobacco colored wood, making the hallway feel smaller than it is. We’re standing three feet apart, but I feel like he’s directly in front of me. His hands are pushed deep inside his pockets. The sleeves of his jacket stretch across his muscles. He swallows, his Adam’s apple dipping as he pushes himself off the wall, coming to a stand.

“I wanted to make sure you were okay,” he says, quietly.

I stare into his azure blue eyes. They’re filled with a sadness and hesitation. A look I’ve seen on him way too many times tonight.

“I’m fine.” I tuck my hair behind my ear, unable to look him in the eye.

Logan ducks his head, trying to catch my attention. “Are you sure, Len?”

Slowly, I look up. His too perfect lips are closed, the stubble on his jaw peppered around them. His face is casted in shadows, highlighting the gorgeous planes of his face.

I steel my gaze on his. “I said I’m fine, Logan.”

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