“What’s up, Abigail?” she asked, typing on her computer without looking at me.
I fidgeted, trying not to wrinkle the letter I had in my hands. I held it out to her, wishing she would look at me.
“I have this for you. It’s my resignation,” I finally said, laying it on the desk.
That finally got Lauren to look at me, surprise on her face. “Resignation? How come? Did you get another job offer?”
I shook my head. “No. It’s just, I have some things I need to do, some family things I need to help with. I can’t work here and do those things too.” There was no way to explain that I was dreaming all of this.
Lauren wrinkled her brows in confusion. “I don’t understand. You can’t work here while you deal with your family?”
“No, I can’t. So, I’m giving you my resignation. I wouldn’t want to do any subpar work while I was doing this.” I stood up to leave, not wanting to draw this out any longer than I had to.
Lauren looked over the letter and then back at me. “Really, Abigail, you’re not even giving me a proper two weeks’ notice? That is highly unprofessional of you. I’m not sure that I can give you a good recommendation if your next job comes calling here about you.”
I shrugged, feeling a weight lift off my shoulders. “That’s okay. I won’t be needing one anyway.”
Lauren bristled. “Well then, feel free to go ahead and leave now and not finish out the workday. Bring all the manuscripts you were working on in here and leave them on my desk. I’ll have to divvy them out amongst the others and give them even more work than they already have.”
Trying not to let the guilt eat away at me, I walked to the door. “Thank you for everything, Lauren. I really do appreciate the opportunity I had here.”
She just stared at me as I shut the door behind me, and I went back to my desk. I spent the next hour cleaning up my desk area and organizing my work and making notes on each manuscript on what I had done and where I had left off. Not that I thought Lauren would let my work stand anymore. She would probably have the others start completely over since I’m sure she thought I was incompetent now.
After leaving my work in Lauren’s office, I gathered up my things and left. Luckily, it was lunch time, so nobody was in the office as I went. I didn’t want to have any conversations with anyone about what I was doing and where I was going.
I stepped outside and took a deep breath, feeling relieved. It’s going to be okay, I reassured myself. This was the first step I had to take to get back to my old life.
I went home and put on my comfortable clothes, yoga pants and a tank top. Putting on some music, I spent the next hour dancing around the apartment and letting the stress slough off me. It was only when I heard my phone ringing that I finally shut the music off.
“Hello?” I asked, out of breath.
“Abby? What’s going on?” It was Lane.
“Oh, hey Lane,” I answered, feeling a little unsure. I hadn’t decided what to do about Lane yet, if I should keep him around or let him go before I got even more attached than I already was. I was going to be leaving all of this soon anyway.
“Are you not at work right now?” he asked.
“No, um, I’m not. I actually quit.”
There was a moment of silence. “You quit? Why?”
I shrugged, even though I knew he couldn’t see it. “I just didn’t want to do it anymore.”
More silence. “Abby, what’s going on? You can’t just quit your job,” he said tersely.
“Sure I can. I just did.”
“Can I come over?” I could just imagine him rubbing his hand through his hair in frustration.
“If you want to, sure,” I answered.
“Okay. I’ll be over in an hour or so, all right?”
“Sounds good to me. Bring some drinks over with you.”
Lane sighed loudly. “Sure, Abby. I can do that.”
After hanging up, I crossed to the fridge to see what we had in terms of snacks. Nothing that I wanted. So I looked up the number for a pizza delivery and ordered two larges. If Lane was coming over then I was sure that he could probably eat a whole one by himself.
It was almost exactly an hour later when I heard a key in the lock. The pizza had been delivered about twenty minutes before, so I was busy shoving a bite in my mouth when I turned around to the door. Whitney stood there with Lane at her side. In my surprise, I inhaled and started choking. They both came in and Lane started patting me on the back, easing my coughing.
“What are you doing here, Whitney? Shouldn’t you be at work?” I asked her.
She crossed her arms and looked at me indignantly. “Shouldn’t you?” she countered.
I raised my eyebrows before turning to Lane. “You told her? Seriously?”
“Yes, seriously. What is going on with you?” he asked.
I threw up my hands, huffing. “Nothing is going on! Can’t a girl quit her job without anything being wrong?”
“Um, no, they can’t,” Whitney said. She sat on the couch and looked at me. “Tell us what’s going on.”
This was it. I had to tell them. I sat in the recliner as Lane sat on the couch. Two against one, or at least that’s what it felt like. “Nothing is going on, really, I just, I, oh hell how do I say this?” I said to myself.
Lane reached over and grabbed my hand, rubbing his thumb across the back of it. “Whatever it is, it’s okay.”
I shook my head. “It’s not going to be okay for you. I’ve been thinking. And, um, I’m starting to believe the note is true. It’s true, okay? I’m convinced.”
Neither Whitney nor Lane said anything, both staring at me with astonished looks on their faces. Then they both started talking at once.
“What the hell, Abigail!”
“Abby, you can’t be serious!”
I held up my hands to get them to stop talking. “I am serious. There are just too many things that are starting to seem too coincidental that I can’t ignore anymore. The doctors couldn’t find anything on my tests, yet I’m hallucinating. I’ve almost been hit by a car three times now. Three! At the same time and place every time! I’m having the weirdest dreams during my migraines. There’s just too much to write off.”
Lane was shaking his head while Whitney just gaped at me. She stood up, muttering, “I need a drink,” and walked off to the kitchen.
I looked back at Lane, who just kept staring at me. The concern on his face was touching, but I didn’t want him to keep worrying about me. I knelt on my knees in front of him. “Please, don’t worry about me. I’m okay, really.”
He didn’t look convinced. “Abby, this is just crazy. You can’t really think this, can you?”
I nodded. “Yeah, I can. And I do.”
He leaned forward, a hand on either side of my face. “You think this isn’t real?” he whispered. “That I’m not real?”
Tears sprang to my eyes and I blinked them away. “You’re as real to me as you can be. Which is only as real as I make you. I hate that I’m hurting you, and Whitney too, but Lane, I need out. I need to get out of my head. Back to the real world.”
He leaned back, hurt on his face. “As real as you make me? You think you’ve just made me up? That my whole life is some product of your imagination? You’re a smart girl Abby, but you’re not acting like it right now.”
That stung. “You don’t have to sit here and take jabs at me, Lane. It’s not necessary.”
“Then just imagine me away, Abby. Since apparently that’s all I am to you.”
I sat back on my heels. “You mean everything to me Lane, and you know it. I love you.”
He shook his head. “How can you love something that you’ve made up?”
“I just can, I guess.” I gave him a small smile, hoping it would lighten him up.
Whitney came back in and sat down again with her drink. “Okay. You need help Abigail. Help that we can’t give you here.”
I got up and sat back in the recliner. “I don�
�t need a therapist, Whitney. I’m fine.”
“You’re not fine. You’re so stuck in your head that you think you really are stuck in your head.”
“Good one, Whitney,” I said flatly. “Not amused.”
“Good, Abigail. I’m not trying to be amusing.”
“Look guys, nothing is wrong. I’m fine. Actually, I feel better than I have since I got that stupid note. I feel like I’m finally going in the right direction.”
Whitney and Lane exchanged a glance, something going back and forth between the two of them. After a minute, they finally looked back at me.
Whitney leaned forward. “Abigail, we both love you. We want what’s best for you. And you’re not, this isn’t…” She couldn’t finish though, and sat back, wiping tears from her face.
Lane patted her knee, comforting her. “It’s okay, Whitney. Abby, we’re concerned about you. What you’re saying just isn’t sane.”
“You think I’m crazy?” I asked, looking back and forth between the two of them. Taking a deep breath, I nodded. “Okay, okay, I can see that. But I’m not crazy, you two. I’ve spent so long thinking this over, and it’s the only logical conclusion I can come to.”
“The only logical conclusion?” Lane asked. “There’s nothing logical about what you’re saying.”
Whitney gestured at me. “I’ve already had this conversation with her. I’ve told her that I am not made up. I’m not!”
I started crying again. “Why can’t you guys just see where I’m coming from here? You think this is so easy for me? Maybe you two could try experiencing what I’ve been going through for the last month or so and then you can tell me how you two feel about it. It’s not fair for you two to just sit there and judge me on this when you have no idea what it is I’m going through!”
I felt more anger coursing through me than I ever had before. The strength of it surprised me as it caused me to say things I normally wouldn’t otherwise.
“Screw both of you. Thanks so much for your support,” I spat out, standing and going into the kitchen. I paced back and forth, wiping tears away as they slid down my cheeks.
After a few minutes, I heard someone enter behind me. I kept my back turned away stubbornly. Arms wrapped around me, holding me against a firm chest I knew was Lane’s. He settled his chin on the top of my head, his breaths settling me, the anger and hurt easing out of me.
We stayed like that for a while, me leaning against Lane. I turned around and nestled my head into his chest. “I hate fighting,” I whispered to him.
He leaned down and kissed the top of my head softly. “I do, too,” he whispered back. “I don’t want us to be like this.”
I sighed. “I don’t either. But I’m not changing my mind about anything, either.”
Lane’s arms tightened around me. “I won’t say that I agree with you. I don’t think I can, not now or…well, I just can’t. Is that going to be okay?”
I nodded. “It’ll be okay. I guess we’ll just have to avoid talking about this then.”
“I think I can handle that,” Lane said, his hands rubbing up and down my back.
I reached up, kissing his neck, feeling the stubble on his chin graze across my cheek. I leaned up further and kissed his lips, feeling them soft yet firm against mine. “We could really just not talk at all,” I suggested.
Lane smiled against my lips, kissing them one last time before moving away. “I think that’s a fantastic idea, but Whitney probably wouldn’t appreciate it. I think she’s waiting to talk to you, actually.”
Groaning, I leaned my forehead against his chest. “I know, I know. I do need to talk to her. But it’s not going to go well. I can’t get her to stop talking by kissing her.”
Lane’s eyes glittered with amusement when he looked down at me. “You can’t?”
I laughed, slapping at his chest. “No, I can’t, you Neanderthal. Okay, I guess I’ll go in there.”
Lane slapped me on the butt as I passed him. “Go get her, tiger.”
I rolled my eyes at him and left to go talk to Whitney. She was sitting on the couch where I had left her, drinking her wine. I sat next to her, waiting for her to acknowledge that I was there.
“Whitney, don’t hate me.”
“Is that what you think? I don’t hate you, Abigail. But what in the world are you thinking?” she asked, looking up at me.
I just looked at her. “Haven’t you ever believed something that nobody else did? This is that for me. Nobody believes me. They don’t believe I’m experiencing what I say I am, nobody can see that note, except for Lane for whatever weird reason. It’s all just too much! So, I’m trying to face it head on and figure it out. And if that means that this whole thing isn’t real, that I’m just dreaming this, then that’s what I have to do.”
Whitney shook her head at me. “I can’t agree with this. I’ve told you this before, and I’m telling you again. I’m not made up. I’m not a figment of your imagination that you created. Everything in this world is too complex for you to have thought up. You have to admit that. You can’t have done all of this.”
Disappointment was all I felt as I listened to what Whitney said. She was my best friend and I had hoped that she would be on my side, but I guess that was too much to hope for.
“I’m going to say what I said to Lane. We’ll just have to agree to not talk about this. There’s no way for us to agree on this topic, and neither of us is changing our minds about it.”
Whitney opened her mouth to argue, but I spoke first. “Please, Whitney. I don’t want to lose you as a friend.”
She narrowed her eyes at me and stood up. “According to you, I’m not real. So just go ahead and use your imagination and pretend that I’m your friend still. That should work for you, shouldn’t it?” She walked away, and I heard her door slam a moment later.
I couldn’t move from my seat. Five years of friendship was gone. I was too stunned for tears to even appear. Taking a deep breath, I stood up and saw Lane in the doorway to the kitchen.
“You heard that?” I asked.
He nodded. “Yeah. I’m sorry, Abby.”
I looked down. “I didn’t think she would react like that. I thought we could just agree to disagree about it. What am I going to do without her now?”
Lane walked over to me and gathered me into a hug, holding me tightly. “I love you, Abby. We’ll figure this out together, okay?”
“Okay,” I said, breathing him in.
We stood there for a few minutes, slightly swaying back and forth. My mind was whirring with too much information and thinking about what to do next. In my heart I knew that there was no point in delaying the next part of my plan.
Chapter Ten
The next morning, I woke up and just relaxed in bed for a while. It felt weird not having to get up for work and I had almost panicked when I saw the time and thought I was going to be late. Lane had stayed for a few hours last night, and if I were honest with myself, he had me feeling more relaxed than I had been in half a week. The stress of the weekend, work, and the note all but disappeared while Lane was with me.
Sighing, I sat up, running my fingers through my hair. I had a few days until Friday came by, which is the next time I would see the car. The thought of what I was planning to do was making me nauseous enough that I had to straighten up and take some deep breaths before I made a mess of my bed.
Getting up, I took a few minutes to straighten my room up and get dressed. There was something freeing in knowing that I didn’t have to be anywhere. I had no schedule to follow and I could just do whatever I wanted.
Feeling a little better, I made my way downstairs and went to a café a few blocks away. I had brought a book with me and read it while I munched on a breakfast sandwich and drank some coffee. I wished I could do this all day, every day. It was so relaxing that I stayed there for two more hours, just huddled in my chair and listening to the background noise of the other customers going about their day.
By the time m
y stomach started rumbling for lunch, I had finished my book. When was the last time I was able to read a book and it not be for work? I wasn’t used to being able to just read whatever and whenever I wanted to, but I didn’t want it to stop. My dream world should be about what I wanted to do, and I had three more days to enjoy it.
I got up and went back to the apartment and grabbed my car keys. I spent the rest of the day driving around with the windows down and stopping whenever I felt like it to window shop or grab a snack to eat. It was the freest I had probably ever felt, and I never wanted it to end.
That thought sobered me up. I found it pretty ironic that I was feeling this way only to know that none of it was real and that I was about to end it soon. And I still had no way of knowing whether I was right or wrong about my theory. That probably scared me the most. Was I about to make the worst mistake of my life? Was I about to throw it all away on a hunch? Whitney’s words resonated with me and I couldn’t help the sliver of doubt that crept through my mind.
Shaking my head, I headed back to the apartment. It was time to figure out my actual plan. I wasn’t sure that I could just wing it and be okay with that. I didn’t want to mess anything up, and I definitely did not want to drag anybody else into it with me. I needed to do this on my own. Lane and Whitney shouldn’t have to watch me throw myself in front of a car, not knowing what the outcome would be.
Whitney was still gone when I went inside. She wasn’t talking to me, which hurt more than I wanted to think about. She may not agree with me, and I couldn’t blame her for that, but she was throwing away five years of friendship. My best friend. Gone in the blink of an eye, without an ounce of remorse. I didn’t want to leave on Friday and not say goodbye to her.
I went to my room and grabbed a pad of paper and a pen. Sitting at my desk, I pushed aside all my other notes from work and random things that I had dropped down and never put away in their proper place. Chewing on the pen cap, I thought about what I wanted to say.
Whitney,
Invisible Future Page 14