AllFreeNovel
Share Us
Which leaves me all sorts of confused.
A knock at the front door of Jack’s apartment startles me out of my own musings, and I turn my head to peer over the couch, noticing that the bathroom door is still closed as the faint sounds of Jack’s shower drift out of it. His showers take twice as long with that sling now.
I push myself off the couch with a grunt and pad over to the door, unlocking the chain and dragging it open, only to feel a complete rush of surprise barrel me over.
“Abby?”
Her mouth curves into a shy smile, her bright gray eyes looking nervous and unsure. “Hey,” she says. “Sorry, I know I should have called, but I thought—” She looks up and down the hallway. “Can I come in?”
I haven’t seen Abigail in person in years; there are phone calls here and there—awkward conversations that neither of us seems to know how to navigate—but the last time I saw her, the entire interaction ended up all over the internet, a catalyst to the implosion of my personal life. She’s changed since I last saw her; her blond hair is shorter, framing her face in a stylish cut that makes her look older, despite her sweet-looking face.
I manage to get a handle on my shock, nodding dumbly and stepping aside from the open door. “Yeah, come in.”
“Nice place,” she notes as she steps inside. “You live here with your friend, right?”
“Yeah,” I tell her, closing the door. “Jack.”
She seems jittery—shifting her weight from one foot to the other as she busies herself with taking in the apartment. “I really didn’t mean to barge in on you, I was just…” She blows out an unsteady breath. “I guess I needed to see a friendly face.”
“What happened?”
She looks almost guilty when she turns to look at me over her shoulder. “I called him.”
“Oh.”
Tension seizes up my muscles; I guess it isn’t all that surprising that she still talks to him, but something about it still makes me feel…strange. Even after all these years, I haven’t gotten used to this fucked triangle we’re in.
“You can sit down,” I tell her, gesturing to the couch. “You want something to drink?”
She shakes her head. “I’m good.” She lets out a huff of a laugh. “I don’t even really know why I’m here. I should have just called.”
“Why didn’t you?”
She looks at me with a furrowed brow, and I shake my head.
“Sorry,” I amend. “I didn’t mean to sound like a dick, it’s just…”
“I know,” she offers. “This is totally out of the blue.”
“Did something happen?”
“No, no, nothing like that.” Her teeth press against her lower lip, her finger twirling one strawberry blond curl around and around. “I’ve just been doing a lot of thinking lately, and I don’t really know what to do, and now that you’re back in town, I just…”
I carefully cross the room and ease onto the side of the couch opposite her, eyeing her warily. “Thinking about what?”
“All of it,” she says. “I think I’m…I think I’m tired of keeping secrets, Ian.”
My eyebrows shoot up. “What?”
“I know it’s not fair to you,” she says quietly. “And I know I agreed to not say anything, but—”
My voice comes out harsher than I mean it to. “Have you thought about what will happen if you say something?”
“I have,” she answers, nodding softly. “I know it would be a nightmare.” She glances at me, eyes full of guilt. “For you too.”
“Then why?”
She closes her eyes, looking older than her twenty-five years. “I’m tired of only having secret conversations when there’s time for them. I’m tired of lying about who I am. I’m just tired of all of it.”
