by Kylie Walker
Abigail had hesitated briefly on the sidewalk in front of his building, just staring up at it as if she wasn’t sure whether she should go inside. After that, she had stared down at his key as if it were a figment of her imagination. It felt real enough, and he had given it to her. Why shouldn’t she use it?
She kept imagining how their conversation would go. He would tell her he deeply cared about her and wanted her to be happy. He would snake his arms around her waist and draw her near to his chest. She wanted to feel the warmth of his embrace and the sensation of his heart beating in unison with hers.
She hoped that her dreams for the future wouldn’t be too far off, and as she stood in front of his door, contemplating what to do next, she knew that her mind was just going to burst if she didn’t go inside and talk to him.
Abigail checked her phone one last time before unlocking the door to Lucas apartment and entering. He still hadn’t responded to her call or her text, which was causing her anxiety. She promised herself that she would feel better once she talked to him. She wondered for a moment if he was even home at all.
He could be out practicing, but it was still early in the morning. She doubted that he had band practice or studio time at this hour. He had never mentioned doing those activities before noon before, so why should today be any different?
“Hello?” She called out to him once she was in his foyer.
Her senses were buzzing with apprehension, but she forced herself to walk further into the house until she found him. Everything would be straightened out between them soon.
“Lucas?” She asked again as was met with silence.
She noticed that his bedroom door was closed. Her heart pounded in her chest. She was suddenly dizzy, picturing him inside rocking the bed back and forth with Meghan underneath him. The image alone was enough to make Abigail want to have a panic attack. As silly as it was. Meghan had gone to work and posed as no honest threat. She had to rip off the band-aid. She had to know what was going on inside the four corners of his bedroom walls. She clutched the doorknob and took a deep breath. She opened it in one breezy swoop.
She hadn’t even realized that her eyes were closed until she opened them and glanced around the room. Her gaze landed on a naked woman sprawled out on Lucas bed. She had the covers partially covering the bottom half of her, but her enormous breasts were bare and exposed.
It was the same kind of situation where you pass a horrific wreck where you know people probably died. It would have to be the fiery kind where there are ambulances and firetrucks, and the traffic is backed up for miles. You can’t tear your eyes away from the scene, even though it hurts to look.
She felt like her entire body was being cut in two. Her heart was being ripped into a million pieces, and Lucas was the one doing the damage. He had emotionally grabbed her arm, and he was shaking her all around. Her senses were all over the place. She didn’t know how to react. She couldn’t move. She was rooted to the ground.
She desperately wanted to scream and run from the room, but she was frozen in place, unable to react in any capacity other than just staring at the terribleness in front of her face.
“Abigail...” Lucas breathed out as if his entire world was crumbling around him too.
She stared at him blankly. Suddenly, she felt numb inside. Abigail’s gaze trailed around the room. That was when she noticed there were several needles laying haphazardly on the nightstand beside the woman. Her heart dropped into her chest. Had Lucas been shooting up the night before with this woman? Did he party like that? She couldn’t imagine the horrific thought. She wanted to be able to shut her mind off, but it was swimming with monumental grief.
She felt bile bubbling up in her throat. This couldn’t be happening. The room started spinning. Her stomach felt as if someone was punching her over and over in the gut. She wanted to double over and clutch her queasy stomach, but she couldn’t move. She was frozen in shock at what she saw.
“Abigail...it’s not what it looks like.” She heard Lucas voice. It sounded far away as if he was trying to call out to her through a fog. “It’s not what it looks like...” he said again, over and over until she felt like her eardrums were going to shatter from the stress of the environment.
The naked woman had yellowing teeth. Her hair was disheveled and nappy, resembling a bird’s nest. She was leering at Abigail. Abigail felt the weight of the woman’s stare on her. She wouldn’t look away. Why was she grinning so hard? She looked like a junkie. She didn’t even bother to put her clothes back on, even after Abigail had opened the door.
“No.” Abigail began to shake her head. Hot tears stung in her eyes. “No.” She didn’t know what she was doing. She didn’t know who she was saying no to. She felt empty and numb, and the sensation spread like a virus through her entire body.
She spun on her heel to leave, but her legs felt like they were dead weight. It was as if she were trying to propel herself into a running gallop, but she felt as if she had lead balloons attached to her feet.
Her tongue felt gritty. She had a knot forming in her throat that made it hard to breathe. She struggled to rake in the air as she jogged as fast as she could from the apartment, but she still felt like everything was happening in slow motion.
She couldn’t believe that she had gone to his house to apologize to him for overreacting about a kiss that didn’t really happen. Now, seeing a drugged out woman lying in his bed sealed the deal for her. She wouldn’t be able to trust Lucas. Not after this. Perhaps it was meant to be that she witnessed him in bed with another woman before she really fell hard for him. But deep down inside, she knew that had already happened, no matter how much she tried to rationalize with own mind.
It was as if she were trying desperately to wake up from a nightmare, but it was no use. Her brain wouldn’t shut off. She was screaming internally. The horror was unfolding in front of her, and there was no escape. No path was safe for her emotionally. She was already derailing and sinking into the darkness of her mind.
How could she have been so fucking stupid to believe that a sexy rock star like Lucas would ever be able to commit to her? If anything, she had no one to blame but herself for her own stupidity. She had been too trusting, and it had backfired in a detrimental way.
Abigail felt crushed. Her soul hurt. It might take her a little while to get over this one. She couldn’t lie. She heard the sound of Lucas’ frantic voice calling out to her from behind, but she didn’t stop. She ran away from him as fast as she could. She didn’t want to hear his flatlined excuses. Not a second time. She was better than that, and she owed more to herself.
All men were the same, but it was even worse when it came to Lucas because he was in a famous band. He had that celebrity aura hanging over him, even though in the beginning he seemed to be unphased by it all.
She had fallen for his act. She was in the pit of despair now. He wouldn’t fool her again. She would make sure of it. He could have his strung out, dreadlock infested haired woman with the needle scabs in her arms and legs. She didn’t want to have any part of it any longer.
Abigail hadn’t realized that she was already almost home by the time she stopped running. She had to catch her breath. The air burned in her throat and her lungs felt like they were on fire. Her calves and thighs ached. She was panting hard, and her cheeks felt tear stained.
Her eyes were red and swollen. Her mind was in mental agony. Fuck Lucas and his heroin lover. They could have each other. They could send themselves to an early grave for all she cared. She couldn’t get mixed up with a man that was into drugs. It was probably for the best that she saw him when she did, well before she was in too deep. Now she knew what kind of man he really was.
Abigail held her gaze to the concrete sidewalk. She kept her stare locked in on her shoes as she robotically jogged the rest of the few blocks back to her own apartment. She cried the whole way home, but she knew that once she walked through the door into her house, she would have to shut off the valve of emot
ion. She had to protect herself. After all, no one else was willing to do it for her.
Chapter Fifteen
ABIGAIL SHIMMIED HER key into the lock of the apartment.
Abigail felt like a dog with its tail tucked between its legs. She didn’t want to admit to Meghan what had happened. She was almost embarrassed that she’d misread Lucas so much. How could she not have seen him for the man he was in all this time?
Maybe it was that she didn’t want Meghan to see how vulnerable she was at the moment. She didn’t want to admit that her relationship with Lucas wasn’t as perfect as she had made it out to be in the beginning.
Her cheeks felt hot. She wiped away the tears from her eyes and cleared her throat. She stood in the doorway for several seconds with her hand clutching the doorknob before entering. She didn’t want to face her worst nightmare, but she knew that there was no escape. Meghan would probably be inside, and no matter how long Abigail stood there trying to compose herself, she knew that Meghan would be able to read her emotions within seconds.
Meghan was good at that sort of thing. It was both a blessing and a curse to have such an intuitive roommate. There was nothing Abigail could do. Even if she hid her discovery from Meghan, she knew that eventually, Meghan would start to ask questions about what had happened with Lucas. Abigail knew it was probably best to get it all out in the open. Not to mention, she felt like she could use some release with a healthy best-friend-venting session.
She took a deep breath to prepare herself for the conversation to follow and entered the room. She stood in the hallway, confused for a moment as if she’d forgotten what she was doing. The lights in the living room and kitchen were on, but she didn’t see Meghan at first. The television was off. It seemed quiet in the house.
Abigail wondered if maybe Meghan had stepped out for a little while, but even that didn’t make sense because Meghan never would have left the house with the lights still on. She was way too frugal for that.
Abigail tossed her purse over a chair at their little bistro table and expelled a deep breath as she walked into the kitchen. She found Meghan standing at the stove, boiling water. Her heart dropped into her stomach. She had secretly hoped to avoid a confrontation while she was still so upset about finding Lucas in bed with another woman.
“Hey,” Abigail mumbled and didn’t instantly reveal her face. She walked over to the fridge so that her back would be turned away from Meghan.
“Hey,” Meghan returned the greeting.
She seemed to be calmly lost in her own little world for the moment which brought Abigail a few moments of relief. She knew that unfortunately, it wouldn’t last for long.
“What are you making?” Abigail asked with a sniff as she twisted the cap off a water bottle from the fridge. The seal yielded with a satisfying crack sound.
“Pasta,” Meghan said.
“Cool.” Abigail started to walk away, but Meghan called her back.
“Do you want me to make enough for two?”
“No,” Abigail shook her head and managed a smile from over her shoulder. “But thank you for offering.”
“Are you sure?” Meghan asked.
“Yeah.” Abigail let out a little cough.
“Well before you head to your room, I was wondering if I could talk to you for a few minutes?” Meghan’s voice sounded nervous.
Abigail turned around to fully expose her face and stared at Meghan. “Sure. What is going on?” She propped herself against the kitchen counter where it hooked across to make a little food preparation area.
“I just wanted to apologize again for the other night,” Meghan said. Her eyes were melancholy. “I promise that I would never intentionally hurt you. I just want you to be happy. I am not trying to steal your man.” She gave Abigail a small smile that was hard for Abigail not to forgive.
Abigail heaved a sigh, finding it hard to hold back tears. “Well, I forgive you. Don’t worry about it. Seriously, it’s water under the bridge. I know that you are a genuine person and that had the circumstances not been the way they were at the time, then it wouldn’t have happened.”
“Absolutely not,” Meghan vowed with a vigorous shake of her head. She pressed her hand to her chest as she stirred the pasta around in the pot with her free hand. “I really want you to believe me. To forgive me.”
Abigail gave her a warmhearted smile. “I do. I know that now.”
“So?” Meghan winced. “Does that mean we are okay?”
Abigail chuckled. “Yeah. We are completely fine.”
Meghan visibly relaxed. “You don’t know how much of a relief that is to hear right now.”
“Yes, I do. Trust me,” Abigail said.
Meghan took a second to really study Abigail, which made her feel like she was on display. She scratched the bridge of her nose. She was getting ready to make some excuse to go to her room. She suddenly didn’t feel like dishing about what had happened back at Lucas’ apartment. She suddenly felt fatigued from the inside out.
Meghan’s eyes narrowed and then widened. It was too late; her friend had already discovered with her sixth sense that something was amiss.
“Is everything alright?” Meghan asked with concern in her voice.
Abigail felt like a geyser of tears was going to brim in her eyes once again. She nodded and sniffed, but she couldn’t hide her emotions behind a wall from Meghan for long.
“Ab?” Meghan whispered. “What’s wrong? Where have you been?”
“At Lucas’ apartment,” Abigail confessed. Her voice cracked. She felt humiliated. Shame made her ears feel hot.
“Why is that a bad thing?” Meghan’s eyebrows knitted in concern.
“Because...” Abigail trailed off. She could barely get the words out. She felt as if the sentence she was about to utter was on the brink of strangling her.
“Ab?” Meghan took a step closer to her, completely disregarding her pasta that threatened to bubble over the sides of the pot.
“Everything is so fucked up.” Abigail cradled her head in her hand and suppressed a sob. She shook her head and looked at her shoes because she wasn’t brave enough to look Meghan in the eye.
“Tell me what happened.” Meghan’s voice was sincere and softly consoling.
She placed her hand on Abigail’s back and began to tenderly stroke it over her shirt. The gesture was soothing and helped pacify Abigail’s mind to a certain extent.
“I can’t...” Abigail trailed off, shaking her head.
“Why not?” Meghan whispered. She had all but forgotten about her pasta which was boiling over the rim of the pan by now. The water droplets made a hissing sound as the steam pelted against the burner.
“Your...pasta...” Abigail croaked.
“Hmm?” Meghan said and then gasped. She spun around on a heel. “Shit!” She frantically took a pot holder and dragged the spewing pot. She placed it on the back burner which wasn’t on a heat setting at the moment.
“I’m sorry.” Meghan shook her head as she took the pasta over to the sink and poured it into a waiting colander.
“It’s okay,” Abigail said. “I don’t want to be a burden to you with my problems.”
“Are you kidding? You are kidding, right?” Meghan glanced up at Abigail and gave her a look as if she thought her delusional. “No. You need to tell me what happened. You can’t leave me hanging like that.”
“Well, I—” Abigail began.
“Besides,” Meghan said as she shook the pasta in the strainer to get the excess water out. “Its always better to talk about it.”
Abigail frowned. “How is that, exactly?”
“You need to vent. You need to purge your mind of the toxins that are bothering you,” Meghan explained.
Abigail let out a deep sigh. Meghan could not only read her like a book, but she understood exactly how the world worked. Abigail herself had thought about how it would feel so good to vent out her frustrations, even if she didn’t feel vindication for what Lucas had done to her.
“We never said we were exclusive or anything, but...”
“Oh my God. What did he do?” Meghan’s eyebrows were pitched into tiny tents, and her eyes were broadened with horror, even before Abigail elaborated.
Abigail felt another sob brewing. She did her best to conceal it, but she ended up getting a migraine in the process from the tension of holding back.
“Well to start, he gave me a key. He told me I could use it any time. He wanted me to trust him and feel secure. He said he knew that I was an honest woman and that he could trust me with a key. He wanted me to feel like I mattered.” Abigail’s voice squeaked, and she sniffed.
“Hold that thought,” Meghan said and swiveled around to walk back over to the counter. At first, Abigail was confused until she saw Meghan stand on her tip toes to retrieve a couple of wine glasses from the cabinet. There was a bottle of chardonnay in the fridge. Meghan poured the wine into the glasses. The wine made a satisfying glug sound as it hit against the sides of the glass. “Here,” Meghan said with a warmhearted smile as she handed over a glass to Abigail. “Wine makes everything better.”
Abigail nodded. “I can’t argue with that.”
“So, you walked into his house using the key that he gave you. Am I on the right track?”
“Yes,” Abigail nodded and took a sip of the cool wine. The alcohol was cold in the glass but warm as it slid down her throat and hit her belly with a rejuvenating sensation. If she kept drinking fast, maybe she would gain enough liquid courage to finish the rest of the story without having a meltdown.
“And you discovered something about him once you were inside?” Meghan asked. She was leaning closer to Abigail now, fully engaged at the moment.
Abigail clutched the side of her head. “It was horrible.”
“What was horrible, sweetie?” Meghan whispered.
Abigail shook her head and stared at her wine glass. She needed a moment. Every time she closed her eyes, she pictured the naked junkie sprawled out across the bed. She was afraid that she would never be able to sleep again because the image would go on to haunt her.