“I trust your judgment, Lena. Whatever you think works.”
I sigh. “I just want to make sure I give you the best image possible.”
“I know you will.” She smiles. “That’s why I hired you.”
“Well, thank you for trusting me enough with this. I’ll get started on it and should have a mock-up for you by the end of the week.” I type in a few notes to remember the ideas I have floating around in my head.
“Why don’t we grab some dinner?” Abby asks. She’s grinning wide, the whites of her teeth standing out against her dark painted lips. “We can catch each other up on everything.”
I look up from my laptop. “That sounds great. I’m sure Logan would be thrilled to see you.”
Abby spins her coffee cup around with her fingertips, never allowing the bottom to lift off the table. The paper glides against the polished wood. “Okay.” Her hand stops. “Where would you want to eat?”
I zip my laptop bag closed before strapping it over my shoulder. “Why don’t you come over to our house for dinner? Logan’s an executive chef over at Bistro 59. He can whip up a mean truffle fettucine.”
Abby narrows her eyes, her perfectly manicured eyebrows knitting between her bright violet eyes. “Are you sure?”
“Yes.” I nod. “I want to spend more time with you. It’ll be better to tell you what happened when we aren’t surrounded by a bunch of strangers. I hate what happened and how I had to leave Providence so quickly. Let me start making it up to you with dinner. How about Friday?”
“Okay.” She offers me a small smile.
I stand, making sure to grab my phone off the table. Abby’s eyes fall to my hand. She reaches out. “Here, I have a different number since I moved. I’ll put it in your contacts.”
“Sure.” I shrug and type in my password then hand her my phone. Once she types it in, she presses the green call button. As soon as her phone starts ringing, she pulls it out of her bag, lifting it to show me. “There, now I have your new number.”
“I’ll text you our address and what time after I talk to Logan.” I step forward, wrapping my arms around Abby. The familiar scent of menthol tobacco lingers against her skin, bringing me back to the time we spent together. It feels good to have my best friend back in my life.
She hugs me back, squeezing me just as tight as she had when she walked into the coffee shop. “I’ll look forward to getting your text.”
I release Abby and leave the coffee shop.
I push against the large glass door, welcoming the cool summer air flash against my face. Maybe the emptiness I had in my heart didn’t have to be temporarily filled. Maybe it could be permanent. Maybe it could be mended, one stitch at a time.
By the time I make it to my car, I realize that Abby’s absence played a bigger role in my life than I knew. And I intended to make up for everything that happened between us, no matter what it took.
Six
Logan
I couldn’t believe it.
Abby was back and sitting at our dining room table, a full glass of red wine perched in her hand.
When Lena had told me about Abby finding her, a part of me was a bit apprehensive. If Abby had found Lena so easily, it left me wondering how easy it would be for Julian to find her, to find us.
I wanted to be the protective husband, maybe suggesting to Lena that she should consider scaling back her design business a bit. I knew it was an idea Lena wouldn’t buy. She had worked too hard to build her design business, rediscovering her passion for it. Since I knew she wouldn’t be thrilled with the idea of scaling back her work, I decided to leave the topic untouched.
Abby’s presence quickly changed Lena in a matter of days. It was enough for me to push my worries aside for the time being. I could tell having Abby back was Lena’s chance to make it right. It was her chance to heal the guilt that had festered over the past year.
Once again, I decide to shelve my fear of Abby’s ability to find us right beside every other concern I’ve shielded from my wife.
Ever since Lena had come home three days ago from the meeting with Abby, she’s been different. Sitting across from Abby at our dining room table was a brighter, happier version of Lena. A side I hadn’t seen since before we left Providence.
I strain the fettucine noodles and toss them in my signature truffle sauce, pouring them into a large porcelain bowl. Lena’s eyes shift to me as I make my way into the dining room. Three creases form in the corner of her eyes as she smiles at me. The sparkle in her jade colored eyes causes my chest to beat nearly out of my chest. The neckline of her loose floral sundress dips between her breasts. They’re two perfectly round mounds of flesh and my mouth has kissed every square inch of them. They press together as she leans forward on the table, resting her elbows on the edge. Fuck. My dick grows hard for her and I do everything I can to think of anything else but my wife.
I clench my jaw tighter knowing there’s no way I could shove Abby out of our house, reminding Lena how much she means to me.
“What’d I miss?” I ask, placing the bowl of pasta in the center of the table, beside the garlic bread I’d made ahead of time. The hard-on I’d felt coming has begun to subside. I need a change of subject.
I sit between both women, at the head of the table. Lena reaches across and grabs Abby’s plate, serving her a large helping of noodles.
“Nothing,” Lena says. “Abby and I were just talking about her time in Los Angeles this past year.”
“Oh. How was it?” I ask Abby. “I’ve never been to California.”
Abby takes a sip of her wine and shrugs. “It was okay, but I think after living in the Northeast for a few years I got used to the cold winters.” She shifts her eyes from me to Lena. “I like Seattle much better.”
“Honestly, that’s part of the reason Lena and I moved out here.” I break off a piece of garlic bread and pop it in my mouth. “It’s cold here in the wintertime but it’s cold in a different way. New England could be very bitter in the winter.”
Lena nods, agreeing. Abby looks between me and Lena as she sits back against her chair. Her silver hair is pin straight, the ends floating just past her shoulders. I can tell she’s studying me, searching for something. I’m just not sure what it is. “Speaking of,” Abby says, breaking the silence in the room. She turns her gaze on Lena. “Why did you both leave Providence?”
As if on instinct, both Lena and I shift in our seats. The wood creaks against our movements, slicing through the tension clouding the air.
The sun has begun to set behind Abby’s seat at the table. A deep orange color surrounds her, the purple black sky blending in with the clouds, signaling it’ll soon be nighttime.
I look at Lena, knowing she’s the one who wanted to answer this question. When Lena first told me about Abby’s return, I had asked her if she explained to her why we left. A part of me felt selfish for even thinking that I didn’t want Abby to think I forced Lena to leave her behind, that I was the driving force in suddenly severing their friendship.
Lena clears her throat, taking two large gulps of her wine. Her smooth neck dips as the wine makes its way down. “Well, the night Logan and I ended up leaving Providence we had just gotten home from the grocery store to find that his apartment had been broken into.”
I turn my attention to Abby as Lena tells her the whole story of how we had found the T-shirt on the bed and the note, promising Lena that Julian hadn’t let her go. Abby’s eyes widen slightly, her eyebrows curve and raise onto her forehead. A small gasp of air escapes her mouth, stunned to hear what Lena is telling her.
“So, Julian broke into your apartment?” She’s asking Lena the question, but her focus is on me. I’m not sure why but I answer her anyway.
I lift my shoulder, absentmindedly shoving a sliced noodle in my mouth. “I mean, he didn’t sign the note but there’s no way it could be anyone else. The only person who knew about the Bruins shirt is the three of us and him.”
Lena leans forward,
resting her elbows on the edge of the table. Her eyes turn to glass, tears threatening to spill over her soft cheeks. “I’m so sorry, Abby. I wanted to tell you. I did.”
“Why didn’t you?” Abby’s voice quivers. She presses her lips together and holds her breath. I can tell this is hard for both of them.
“I would have but my phone was broken,” Lena explains. “I dropped it on the sidewalk when we got back from the store that night, right before we found out the apartment had been broken into.”
A single tear slides down Abby’s cheek. Her mascara is starting to run down her face, following the same path as the tear. “I wish you would have at least let me know. You know I would have been there for you.”
“I know you would have.” Lena’s eyes sadden.
All three of us sit in silence, leaving our food untouched. Abby hasn’t stopped staring at Lena and the sun has nearly disappeared now. The sky is a deep blue-black color, the moon peeking out from between the gray clouds.
Abby takes another sip of her wine, finishing off the rest. “Do you think Julian knows where you are?”
“We’re not entirely sure.” I reach for the wine bottle, refilling Abby’s glass. My eyes gravitate toward Lena, checking to see her reaction. The worry in Lena’s face is clear. She still believes Julian knows where she is. Always.
“We are careful though. Luckily, the house came with a security system when we moved in.” Lena glances over her shoulder, pointing to the white key pad on the wall near the door.
“Good,” Abby says, tipping her chin up. “So, you have cameras, then?”
“No, but it’s a great system and it works for what we need. Plus, we haven’t seen any sign of Julian since that last night in Providence,” I add.
Abby simply nods, picking up her fork. She spins it, swirling the pasta around the end until she has a good amount.
“So, Logan,” Abby says, clearly changing the subject. “Lena tells me you work at Bistro 59?”
“I do.” I nod. “I’m the executive chef. You and Lena should come in and grab some lunch sometime. On me.” I smile at Abby, thankful for the change in subject. The mood in the room has now shifted and I couldn’t be more relieved. Julian still has a way of darkening a room even when he isn’t in it.
“That sounds great.” Abby spreads her mouth into a closed-lip smile, and we continue to eat without another word about Julian or the day Lena and I left Providence. I’m not sure what it is but Abby’s presence here reminds me of being back home.
Lena has been friends with Abby ever since her second year of college. For me, Abby had never gotten too close. From what I knew, she came from a prominent family back in California, much like Lena’s parents. I guess they had that in common.
After dinner, Abby stays long enough to have another glass of wine. Her and Lena make their way to the back porch, settling into the wooden chairs surrounding the firepit. Abby sits with her feet up on the chair beside her. She lights a cigarette, inhaling a deep drag before blowing it out.
I decide to stay inside, knowing they probably want to spend some time with just each other.
I’ve put all the dishes away when my phone rings from the dining room table. I walk over to pick it up, seeing Max’s name pop up on the screen.
“Hey, Max.”
“Hey, Logan. I’m sorry to call you on your night off.”
“That’s okay.” The sliding back door leading to the back yard is open wide, allowing the cool night air to blow through the large open living and dining area of our house. “What’s going on?”
“Well, I was hoping you might be able to stop by the restaurant to help Natalie close up tonight.”
“Is everything okay?” My chest sinks, knowing Max was supposed to be there tonight to teach Natalie how to shut everything down. Something major must have happened for Max to be pulled away from the restaurant on one of the busiest nights of the week.
“No, not really.” He sighs. The engine of Max’s Audi purrs in the background. “Apparently, a pipe burst in my apartment building and flooded my entire condo.”
“Oh, shit man. I’m so sorry.” I clench my teeth, imagining the mess Max is about to walk in on when he makes it to his thirty-first floor palatial condo.
“Yeah,” he deadpans. “That’s why I need you to run to the restaurant.”
Lena and Abby walk in, dropping their glasses of wine in the sink. Lena stares at me from across the kitchen, her eyebrows knitting with concern.
“Of course. I’m heading there right now.” I start to make my way across the living room, finding my keys and wallet on the side table close to the front door.
“Awesome. Thank you,” Max says, clearly relieved. He quickly hangs up.
“Is everything okay?” Lena asks. Abby stands beside her in the kitchen, her arms folded across her chest.
“Yeah,” I explain. “Max needs me to go to the restaurant to help Natalie close up tonight. A pipe burst and his condo is completely flooded.”
“Natalie?” Lena’s head jerks back slightly.
“She’s the sous chef Max hired, remember?” I slide my wallet in my back pocket and walk across the living room, meeting her in the kitchen.
“Oh,” Lena says, surprised. “I didn’t know her name was Natalie. I don’t think you told me.”
“I didn’t?” I stand in front of Lena in the kitchen, placing my hand on her waist. “I’m sorry. I thought I mentioned it to you.”
Lena subtly shakes her head. I can tell this conversation is awkward considering Abby’s standing within five feet of us. I glance at the time on my watch. The restaurant closes in one hour. Shit.
“I’m so sorry.” I lean forward, giving Lena a quick kiss on the mouth. “I have to go now or else I’ll be late. I love you.”
“Love you too.” Lena’s face is still, her eyes dim. I can tell she’s not happy with my sudden need to leave. But Lena also knows how seriously I take my job, so I know deep down, she understands.
I’m already to the door when I turn back, looking over my shoulder. I quickly punch in the pin to reactivate our security system. “I’ll text you when I get there.” I quickly look at Abby and give her a small wave. “Bye, Abby. It was good to see you again.”
I’m in too big of a hurry to know whether Abby responded to me or not. Even though I had to leave in a hurry, I at least know Lena is safe and with her best friend. Someone we can trust.
Seven
Lena
Abby: Can you meet me at the corner of 2nd and Madison? I have something to show you.
I read Abby’s text after finishing the last final touches of her mock-up design. I’ve spent the last three hours perfecting it, deciding to combine the dark purple and black colors with her initials. I was proud of the way it was turning out, I just hoped Abby loved it just as much.
It was nice having Abby back in my life. It felt normal. Natural. She was the piece of me that had been missing and like I promised myself, I’m determined to make up for last year every chance I get. The night we had dinner at my house changed everything for me. Abby’s presence in my life no doubt reminded me of what took place in Providence. College, blistering winters, and Julian. All of it felt like a lifetime ago. All of it felt like it belonged to a different person. I knew it belonged to me, but I didn’t want it anymore. It was like a reoccurring wound. As soon as the first signs of healing started to show, it would burst open again. And I knew my life in Providence was a life that couldn’t be erased.
Telling Abby about Julian breaking into Logan’s apartment that night was like ripping off a large Band-Aid. The image of the perfectly folded Boston Bruins T-shirt is forever seared into my brain. A tattoo that would never fade with time. It serves as a reminder that the past will always consume you, no matter how hard you try to fix it. The darker the past, the deeper the consumption.
Not only was I busy conquering the guilt I harbored with Abby, I also couldn’t get Logan’s new sous chef out of my head. Natalie. It’s
not that I didn’t understand Logan’s schedule and the possibility that Max could call him whenever he needed him to stop by the restaurant. It was more the fact that he left out the part about Natalie. He forgot to mention her name or who she was. Logan, for as long as I’ve known him, has never been one to keep secrets. Nor omit details, no matter how insignificant they may be. So, I couldn’t understand why he had chosen to leave that part out.
I’ve never been a jealous woman. My father, the ever-strict litigation lawyer, always told me that an unconfident woman could never expect the world to be confident in her. Lack of confidence was a sign of weakness. For a time, I always thought that was my dad’s way of molding me to be the person he wanted me to be. He wanted me to carry on his legacy and reputation of being the most well-known, intimidating lawyer in New England. Just like him. However, I never shared my father’s passion for law. Instead, his years of pushing me caused me to pull away. I’d taken the confidence but left the rest behind.
I haven’t asked Logan about Natalie since the other night simply because I didn’t feel I needed to. Whoever this Natalie was, I assumed I would meet her at some point in the future.
I park my car alongside the curb near the address Abby sent me. I wasn’t entirely sure why she had messaged me to meet her in Seattle’s downtown business district. The neighborhood was familiar to me as Bistro 59 was only a few blocks over, closer to the water’s edge.
The logo and promotional images I had been working on for the past two weeks were nearly finished. I decided to bring my laptop with me, ready to show Abby what I had come up with.
When I step out of my car, I find Abby standing at the corner of the intersection. She’s wearing a green T-shirt tucked into her high-waisted jeans. Her hair is tied up into a high messy bun, matching the one I’ve been sporting all day. Even if we have the same hairstyle, I can’t say the same for the rest of our outfits. She was always the more stylish one out of the two of us. Her bold colors match her fearless personality. I grin as I approach her, still not completely believing she’s back in my life.
Mine: A Romantic Suspense Thriller (A Back to Me Series Book 2) Page 6