Page 27 of Mine

Abby: Can’t wait to see you tomorrow!

I leave Abby’s text unanswered, staring at the six words until they begin to blend together. Her text leaves me confused.

Why is she pretending like telling that story was meaningless?

After looking at the text longer than I should, I exit out and click on the email. I’m praying it’s some trash email, another one of the thousand emails I receive offering me a discount on a product I’ll never have a use for.

My heart sinks into the bottom of my stomach and chills prickle down my spine. It’s another anonymous email. Only this time, it’s longer than the last.

Have fun tonight? You should wear that dress more often. Did your husband love it just as much as I did?

You know, for once I agree with Logan. Abby really shouldn’t have told that story. It’s a memory I wish we could forget. But I don’t think it quite works that way, Lena. We can’t erase our pasts. No matter how hard we try.

Until next time, my love.

My phone slips through my hands, dropping to the floor with a dull thud. I immediately sit up, tossing the blankets to the side like they’re engulfed in flames, incinerating my skin. I don’t pick up my phone, staring at it lying on my floor. The screen is lit, glowing from the still open email.

I cover my mouth with both hands, holding back the scream begging to be released from my throat.

Logan hasn’t moved. He hasn’t even twitched. I snap my head to the bedroom door, sprinting down the stairs. I don’t even bother to check the app on my phone to trust the system is locked.

Panicked, I read the panel by the front door, making sure it’s set to secure. I reread the words three times over. Then my hands are flying to the three bolt locks, turning them tighter and tighter.

A pressure falls against my chest and I lift my hand, pressing my palm against the frantic beating of my heart.

What is happening? Was Julian at the restaurant?

He had to have been, or else he wouldn’t have said the exact words Logan said to me in the hallway.

Abby really shouldn’t have told that story.

After making sure the entire house is locked, I walk back up the stairs with my arms wrapped around my waist, my mind focused on taking each step at a time. Slow and calculated.

When I’m back in my bedroom, Logan is still sound asleep. Silently, I crawl back under the sheets and lay there until the sun comes up and I can no longer fight to keep my eyes open.

Eleven

Lena

The street where Abby’s business is located is nearly as empty as the first time I met her here.

I didn’t want to meet her at her office. The place gave me the chills. The smell alone was enough to keep me away. Not to mention the dark, mold covered walls and dusty windows.

But Abby’s insistence that we meet at her office building won out over my aversion to the place. I needed to talk with her. What happened last night was eating me up inside.

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.”

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