Invisible Future

by Lindsey Anderle

  “Okay,” I muttered, “let’s figure out what’s wrong with Abigail.”

  I made a list and a timeline of everything that had happened so far. Looking at it, it scared me to realize that things seemed to be escalating. First it was the crazy dream. Now I was hallucinating things.

  “Oh God.” I sat up suddenly. “What if I’m sick? I probably have a brain tumor!” I slumped back and drained the rest of my beer. I was sick. Of course, that was my answer.

  Resigned to my self-diagnosed illness, I drank through the rest of my six pack faster than I ever would have normally. I was lying on the couch, feeling the buzz in my head spreading out into my body until I felt fuzzy all over.

  “Nobody knows what I’m going through,” I told the ceiling. “Nobody can help me. I’m alone. Screw everybody else and their perfect lives.”

  I turned over to get off the couch and ended up falling on the floor, knocking the breath out of me. My phone’s text alert sounded from the coffee table. Reaching up, I patted my hand along it until I found my phone. It was a text from Lane.

  Lane: Hey beautiful

  Me: Well hey the re yorslef

  Lane: Have plans tonight? I can come by for dinner

  I perked up at that. I hadn’t realized how starved I was.

  Me: Okg yesbplease im so hubgry I coukd eat everything in the fiedge!!

  Lane: Abby, what’s wrong? Are you okay?

  Me: Oh sint worry about me im fine. I’ve just reakize I have a brain turmo. So im dirking my worries away

  Lane didn’t write back to that, so I laid my head on the floor. I needed another beer. I didn’t want reality to come back to me yet. My buzz needed to stay for a while. But the ringing could stop. Yeah, that was annoying and needed to go away. I rubbed my head, hoping for it to stop. I lifted my head and realized it was my phone. Snorting at my ridiculousness, I pressed the answer button.

  “’Lo?” I answered.

  “Abby, are you okay? What’s going on?” Lane asked.

  “Lane! You would not believe the day I’ve had!” I said loudly, the words stumbling out of my fuzzy mouth.

  “Abby, I’m on my way over. Is Whitney there?” Lane asked.

  “Nope.” I rolled to my back. “I’m all alone. I’m so alone.”

  I felt tears pricking at my eyes but blinked them back. I didn’t want a pity party, I wanted to get wasted and forget my problems.

  “But you know what, it’s just fine!” I said, faking cheeriness. “’Cause now Whitney can’t get mad when I drink all of her wine,” I whispered loudly, as if I were conspiring with Lane. I started to giggle and sat up. “Actually, that’s a great idea. I ran out of beer. Hey, can you bring me some more?”

  Lane sighed, and I could practically see him running his hand through his hair. I stood up and stumbled to the fridge, opening it.

  “Yep, Lane, bring refreshments. Whitney’s wine has already been opened and won’t last me long.” I pulled it out of the fridge and placed it on the counter.

  “Abby, I’ll be there soon. How about you don’t drink the wine yet so we can share it?”

  I rolled my eyes and huffed. “Noooo, no way, I need this. I’m screwed, there’s no fixing me, so I’m getting drunk.”

  “There is definitely fixing you. You can’t give up on yourself. Did something happen today?”

  I snorted again and attempted to roll my eyes. “You could say that.” Suddenly, clarity came through my drunken haze, causing tears to spring to my eyes. “You know what Lane? Never mind about any of it. You don’t need to come over. You’re better off without me and my problems.”

  Lane’s sharp intake of breath stabbed at my heart, prompting the tears to start falling. I would hate myself for this later, but I knew it was the right thing to do. Lane didn’t need to be brought down by me.

  “You don’t want to see me anymore?”

  I could hear the hurt and hesitation in Lane’s voice, and I struggled to draw in a breath. My own heart felt like it was breaking.

  I drew myself up straight to strengthen my resolve. “No. I don’t. You can find someone better than me.”

  “I don’t want someone better than you Abby. I just want you.”

  I sniffed, wiping the tears off my face. Drawing in a shaky breath, I said, “Well, too bad. That’s what I want.”

  “But—”

  “No,” I said firmly. “I have to go. Goodbye Lane.”

  I put the phone down and hung up. Sobs came pouring out and I felt my heart breaking into a million tiny pieces. I sank to the floor, crying out all the anguish I had experienced lately. I cried for myself and all the suffering I was enduring. I cried for Lane and all the hurt and pain I had just caused him. My affection had started growing for him, but I carefully packaged it up in a tiny box and set it aside, not knowing now if it would have the chance to turn into love.

  When my tears had dried, I got up. I was better off without dragging Lane down with me, even though it didn’t feel like it. I stood up and placed the wine bottle back in the fridge. I was going out to drink.

  I changed out of my work clothes and into jeans and a t-shirt, not in the mood to dress up. It was Friday night and I wasn’t going to stay home. I grabbed my phone and considered asking Whitney to meet me at The Den but decided against it. I needed to be alone right now.

  I had to hold onto the wall of the elevator, but I managed to make it outside without falling. My pleasant buzz had escalated to something more that I wasn’t used to experiencing. I had only made it to the end of the block before I heard my name being called. I turned around and saw Lane hurrying toward me. I leaned against the building wall, waiting for him.

  “Abby, what is going on?” Lane looked so upset. I felt horrible.

  I shook my head. A bad idea, since it seemed that my head couldn’t keep up with my shaking, causing a throbbing sensation. “Nothing’s wrong. You shouldn’t be here.”

  Turning to go, Lane grabbed my arm to stop me. “You don’t get the only say on what’s going on with us! There are two people in this relationship, and two people get to have a say!” His face was angrier than I had ever seen it.

  I could feel the tears returning. “But only one of us has a chance at happiness, and I’m trying to give that to you.” I ducked my face down, squeezing my eyes so I wouldn’t start crying again.

  Lane exhaled loudly and pulled me into his arms, hugging me tightly. “Oh, Abby. Let me help you. You make me happy, please don’t ever doubt that.”

  I sank into his embrace, relishing it before pulling away. “But I won’t keep you happy if you stay with me.” I took a step back, leaving a piece of my heart with him. “You’ll come to resent me, I know it.” Another step, another piece of my heart.

  Lane just stared at me, looking incredulous. “That would never happen.”

  I held up a hand, cutting him off. “It would. We don’t know what’s wrong with me. You would come to hate my outbursts and episodes. I can’t have you hating me,” I whispered, laying down the rest of my heart. It was okay if it was broken. I only wanted to save Lane’s from becoming the same.

  I turned and walked away, wiping my face off. Lane followed behind, talking to me.

  “I’m not giving up on you Abby. On us. We are amazing together and I won’t let you make some sort of snap judgment because of whatever happened today.”

  My tears turned into loud, gasping cries as I picked up my pace, trying to outrun Lane. I should have known I couldn’t do that on a good day, let alone when I was drunk and he was sober.

  Still determined to reach The Den, I ignored Lane, even though he kept pace with me. I just needed the obliteration of today through the drinking of more beer.

  At last, I had had enough. I started walking when the last light turned green and looked to Lane. “Can’t you tell when you’re not wanted?” I yelled at him.

  “Of course, I can! But I know I’m needed here, so I’m trying to help you, damn it!”

  I stopped in the
middle of the street, turning around to face him. “Look here—”

  I didn’t have time to finish what I was going to say because the sound of tires squealing muffled it. A red four-door car came racing by where I had just been standing.

  Lane grabbed me by the waist and yanked me toward him, out of the path of the car. I screamed and held onto him, fear propelling me into his arms, praying he had been fast enough.

  The red car raced off, leaving confusion and fear in its wake. I trembled in Lane’s arms, my legs ready to give out.

  Lane led me to the opposite sidewalk, where I had been headed before almost being ran over. I sat down roughly, not feeling steady enough to stand anymore. I hung my head in my hands, my head throbbing with my fast heartbeat. “Oh my God, what just happened? That was like freaking déjà vu or something.”

  I felt more than saw Lane stiffen next to me. “Say that again,” he said, laying a hand on my arm.

  I screwed up my eyebrows in confusion when I looked at him. “Um, what?”

  Lane shifted next to me to face me. “Say what you just said again!”

  I drew back, my head still feeling muddled from the beer I had drunk. “Okay…I said it feels like déjà vu.”

  Lane’s jaw dropped open. “That’s it, Abby. That’s what felt so strange about this! Do you realize this is how we met? On this corner, with me pulling you out of the way of a car speeding through a red light!”

  I could only stare at him. “You pulled me away both times.”

  Lane grinned, grabbing my face with both hands. “See! This proves you’re not crazy, that there’s something going on!”

  I shook my head, trying to make sense of it all. “So, what? It’s just all coincidence, or is it a message to me? Are you saying it’s, like, pre-ordained that I get run over?”

  Lane gave me a look. “I’m saying what I’ve said all along Abigail. I believe you. I believe you and I want to help you. Please, let me.”

  All I could do was stare at him. This man, who had been so good to me, believed me. Believed that I wasn’t crazy, that I wasn’t making this up.

  “This is so insane,” I whispered.

  “I know,” Lane replied. “But I’m here for you.”

  More tears came leaking out before I could stop them. “I’m so sorry,” I moaned, leaning toward him.

  Lane gathered me in his arms, rubbing my back. “Nothing to be sorry for,” he said, kissing the top of my head.

  Chapter Six

  The rest of the night went by without me really feeling a part of it. I was feeling sick to my stomach, thinking about what had happened. A car had almost run me over – again – and Lane was there to save me – again. And just like he had pointed out, he was there to save me both times.

  We stayed at The Den for a while. I needed the time to calm down before heading home.

  Downing my second shot, I wiped my mouth off with the back of my hand. My stomach was rolling with a nauseous feeling, not cooperating with what I was wanting. Lane sat across from me, watching me over his glass of beer.

  “Want to talk about it?” he offered.

  “Nope,” I said shortly, taking a drink of my beer. It didn’t matter what we had just experienced, I was no good for Lane. He had to see that.

  Lane leaned toward me over the high-top, elbows on the table. He reached out a hand to mine, which I retracted. I couldn’t let his affection cloud my judgment.

  His face hardened as he sat back, forming a fist with his hand. “You can’t draw away from me Abby,” he said.

  I looked down at the table, playing with my napkin, tearing tiny pieces off. “I’m not doing anything.”

  “What happened today?”

  I shrugged, rolling the torn napkin into a ball. “It doesn’t matter. It’s over.”

  Lane slapped his hand down on the table, causing the glasses to shake. “Damn it, Abby, look at me!”

  I threw my head up, startled. The expression on Lane’s face scared me. Sadness, anger, and dread were all there, making me feel even worse. I was the cause of this. I was the cause of him feeling so awful.

  “I can’t,” I whispered. “I can’t look at you knowing how much I want you here with me but knowing that you have to stay away from me.”

  Lane’s face softened at my confession, his hand reaching back out to capture mine. He stood up, eyes never leaving my face, and walked around to my side of the table.

  Moving his hand to gently cup my face, he leaned down toward me, his breath stirring my hair. “I’m not leaving, Abby. I love you.”

  I let out a shaky breath, tears clouding my vision. “You love me?” I asked.

  Lane smiled, his thumb caressing my cheek. “I do. I met the girl I never thought I would find. The girl who gets my heart racing, who makes me smile.”

  He moved closer still, his other arm coming up to trap me in my seat. Kissing my forehead, he whispered, “She somehow burrowed her way into my heart and I’m not about to let her go.”

  I sighed, resting my head on his chest. “You have such weird taste in women.”

  Lane barked out a laugh. Hugging me close, he said, “I wouldn’t have it any other way.”

  I nestled into his arms, enjoying the security they provided. Lane rubbed my back before moving away, going to sit down in his seat.

  “I’m going to the bathroom. Need anything?” he asked.

  I downed the rest of my beer, about half of the glass. “Yep. I need another drink.”

  Lane narrowed his eyes and looked disapprovingly at my glass but didn’t say anything about it. He just nodded and left.

  Glancing around the full bar, I let the music and alcohol I had consumed relax me a little more. Closing my eyes, I took a few deep breaths.

  Lane had said he loved me. Was I supposed to say it back? I wasn’t sure yet if I loved him, but I knew I wanted to. I hoped he wasn’t upset that I didn’t say it back.

  Oh, man. He probably was. I sat up, anxiety rolling through me, my heart starting to race again. I was no good at these things, this is why I should leave.

  Before I could do anything, a beer was placed in front of me. Turning to thank Lane, I realized it was some big, burly guy who was smirking at me.

  “A pretty lady like you shouldn’t be left alone on a Friday night,” he said, sitting down next to me.

  I shifted in my seat uncomfortably. “Oh, uh, thanks, but I’m good. I’m—”

  The man cut me off, irritation on his face. “Now, look, I went to the trouble of bringing you a beer. The least you could do is sit here with me and drink it.”

  I dared a look around but didn’t see Lane anywhere. My adrenaline was amped up, but I just found myself frozen to my seat, too scared to move. I slowly reached for the drink, wrapping my fingers around it.

  The man grinned. “Now that’s more like it.” He moved his seat closer to mine, placing an arm on the back of it. “So, what are you doing all on your lonesome tonight?”

  “She’s not alone.”

  I heard Lane’s voice behind me and turned to face him. The panic I felt must have been plain to see, because Lane moved closer and pushed away the other guy’s beer before placing his own plus mine down in front of me. “Is there a problem here?”

  The man sat back, looking smug. “No, no problem man. Just having a drink with a pretty lady who was alone.”

  “Well, she’s not alone now,” Lane said, his voice hard.

  I was only able to sit there, barely able to breathe. This is not happening, I thought in disbelief. These two guys were about to duke it out right in front of me.

  Lane looked at me. “Babe, are you wanting to drink with this guy?”

  I widened my eyes at him and shook my head no.

  Lane slid the man’s beer back in front of him. “You heard her. Time to go. Before I get someone over here to make you leave.”

  The man narrowed his eyes at Lane, but got up, grabbed his drinks and left. I let out an explosive breath that I hadn’t realized I
was holding. I put a hand up to my chest, hoping that my pounding heart would calm down soon.

  Lane sat back down and just looked at me. “I just can’t leave you alone, can I, woman?”

  My jaw dropped until I saw Lane’s lips twitch, trying to fight a smile. I grinned at him and then started laughing. I couldn’t help it; all of my anxiety and fear needed an outlet.

  Lane just shook his head at me, taking a drink.

  “Let’s just have a normal night,” I suggested. “No talk of my problems. I just want to forget them for the night.”

  With a nod, Lane picked up his glass. “To forgetting.”

  I raised my glass too. “To forgetting.” With that, I took a big drink.

  **********

  The next morning, I woke up groaning. My mouth felt like it was full of sand and my head was throbbing. I stretched, arching my back, hitting something.

  I froze, trying to remember what had happened last night. Drinking with Lane, scary guy, more drinking. Whitney and a friend had ended up joining us. So much drinking. No wonder I feel so awful, I thought. I vaguely remembered coming home and undressing to my underwear in front of Lane.

  I shifted a little, realizing with relief that I was still dressed. A sigh sounded behind me, an arm wrapping around my waist, pulling me in closer. It took me by surprise until it registered in my alcohol-ridden brain that it was Lane. And I just bumped my butt into him, I thought, mortified.

  Lying there, I knew I couldn’t fall back to sleep. Even if I wanted to get up, Lane’s arm was trapping me in, his other arm beneath me. Not that I was complaining. Not at all. His bare chest was warm against my back and his breath was tickling the back of my neck. I snuggled in closer, trying to be careful not to wake him.

  This feeling was too perfect. I could definitely lie here all day, I thought, knowing it was wishful thinking.

  It was then that I noticed Lane’s hand was moving, slowly caressing my stomach, sending butterflies fluttering inside me. I didn’t move, not wanting him to stop.

  “Good morning,” he whispered, planting a kiss on my shoulder before placing another one by my neck.