Abby
Last night...
“Was that Jacob leaving just now?” My grandmother’s voice startles me and I jump, my back coming off the door. I’d stood there for Lord only knows how long, my body pressed against the panels and my mind in a daze after he kissed my cheek.
I clear my throat and smooth my hands over my wrinkled clothes, as if my dream was real and my garments were rumpled by our make-out session.
“Yeah, the movie just ended,” I offer. For some reason, I feel like a teenager again, like I have to explain myself for having a boy over this late.
She makes her way into the kitchen and fills a glass with water. “Was it any good?” she asks, opening the cabinet where she keeps her medications and pulling out a plastic bottle. Warmth blooms across my cheeks as my eyes flash to the couch, my thoughts returning to the steamy dream I had. I decide to be honest with her in the hopes she doesn’t ask for any details about the movie. She’s pretty easygoing, but I’d prefer she didn’t know we watched a film about BDSM.
“I don’t really know. I fell asleep halfway through,” I confess with a shrug. She chuckles as she pries the lid off the Tums and pops a few into her mouth. My eyes zero in on the nearly empty bottle and I frown. “Enisi, how many of these are you eating a day?” I ask, reaching for the antacids. She hands them over and I inspect the label. “I just bought this bottle last week,” I add, turning it over in my hand to read the directions.
“My acid reflux is flaring up,” she offers in explanation. “And my other medicine just isn’t cutting it anymore. I’m gonna ask my doctor to increase the dose when I see him.”
“Is that why you’re up?”
“Yes. The pain woke me up out of a dead sleep.”
My brow knits with concern. She’s never had reflux this bad, and I worry that there’s more to this than she’s telling me. What if something is really wrong?
“Enisi,” I begin, my tone pleading, “you need to move your appointment up. You’re really starting to worry me.”
“I know, sweetie. I’ll call first thing Monday morning,” she promises, placing the medicine back in the cabinet before taking a drink of water. “Now, enough about me. Tell me what’s going on with you and Jacob. You two seem to be getting along nicely.”
My face falls and I’m reminded of all my doubts and trepidation where Jacob is concerned. “We’re getting along fine. Chloe adores him, and he seems to be acclimating to parenthood fairly well, considering.”
“But...?” she prods, drawing out the word.
“But there’s still something bugging me. Something in the back of my mind makes me doubt him.”
“What do you mean?”
Taking a deep breath and blowing it out through pursed lips, I offer as candid an answer as I can. “I still don’t know if I believe him.”
“About?”
“Any of it. All of it. I don’t know.” I toss my hands up in frustration and begin to pace across the kitchen floor. “It all just seems so...” I pause as I search for the right word. Fake. Unlikely. Dishonest. “Unbelievable.”
“You think he’s lying?”
“I don’t know. I don’t know what to think. That’s the problem. Part of me wants to believe every word he tells me. I want to believe that he tried to get in touch, that he couldn’t reach me for six weeks because he was off saving the children, and that I was too hasty to believe the worst about him.” Aggravated, I rake my fingers through my hair, stopping at my neck. My head tilts back and I blink away tears before speaking again. “But the other part of me is scared,” I confess in a shaky voice. “I’m afraid of getting hurt again. I’m afraid to believe him and let him back in and risk getting my heart broken. And it’s not just about me anymore. I have Chloe to worry about now, too.” Warm tears slide down my face, the thought of Chloe getting hurt more than I can bear.
“If I trust him…” I begin, gulping past the lump in my throat, “if I let him in again and he’s lying, it will destroy us.” My grandmother reaches for me and I sink into her embrace, the tears flowing freely now.
“That’s not going to happen,” she assures me gently, smoothing down my hair.
“How can you know that? How can you have so much faith in him?”
She takes a deep breath and pauses as if carefully choosing her words. “I’ve known it since the moment I met him.” I lift my gaze and stare at her in confusion, baffled by her inadequate explanation. “I always knew there was something special about him. He’s a good man, Abby. You felt it too. That’s why you let him into your life. That’s how Chloe got here in the first place.”
I hang my head. Even after all this time, I’m not proud of the choices I made or how irresponsibly I acted with Jacob, but I don’t regret them. Regretting him or regretting what we did meant regretting Chloe, and that’s not possible. She’s the very best part of my life.
“That’s not enough!” I cry. “People can be deceitful. They can trick you into believing what they want you to believe, especially where he comes from.” I give her a pointed look, knowing she’s not a big fan of politicians.
She gives a mournful shake of her head and sighs, dropping her hands to her sides in defeat. “I’ll be right back.” She disappears down the hall, returning moments later holding a creased piece of paper in her hand. “I was hoping I wouldn’t have to show you this. I was hoping,” she smiles sadly, “you two would find your way back to each other without it, that you guys could learn to trust again. Love is nothing if there’s no trust.”
She hands the paper to me and I snatch it from her greedily, needing to know what saving grace it may provide for my relationship with Jacob. My eyes land immediately on Jacob’s face, more rugged and slender than I’ve ever seen it. He’s surrounded by sand and has an arm draped over the shoulder of a dark-skinned man in tribal clothing, his other hand holding a pail of water.