“He wouldn’t even come inside. Louis had to bring his bag out.”
“He was acting really strange. Even for Russell.” Honey’s joke fell flat along with her attempt at a smile. “We thought maybe you two had a fight.”
“No. We didn’t.”
Abby tried to bring her tone down a few octaves, but it was impossible. Her heart was flattening like a sand castle in a rainstorm. He left? She created a mental list of reasons he would leave after the night they’d had, the trust they’d shared, but nothing was good enough. Nothing made sense.
She reached into the cabinet for three coffee cups, indulging the urge to hide her face. “Was there an emergency at the construction site or something?” Even as she asked the hopeful question, she discarded the possibility. He’d left without saying good-bye, and that meant something infinitely worse.
“Ben said he wasn’t in a talking mood.” Honey traded a heavy glance with Roxy, nodded, and dug into her pocket. “He left you a note.”
Abby tried not to lunge across the nook to snatch the note from Honey’s fingers. Instead, she carefully arranged the mugs and casually reached for the folded piece of paper. She could feel her roommates staring at her, so she braced herself to give zero reaction. An almost impossible feat when the note contained only two words.
I’m sorry.
She dropped the note like it was on fire but stooped down quickly to pick it back up, shoving it into the back pocket of her jean shorts. It seemed like someone else was performing the menial tasks. It definitely couldn’t be her when she felt paralyzed. A crater was opening in her chest, burning at the edges, but she couldn’t lift her arms to put out the fire. Russell was sorry. Russell was gone. He regretted last night . . . being with her. What they’d done.
Was there any other explanation? His absence spoke louder than any note ever could. He’d told her, hadn’t he? Since the beginning, he’d told her he wasn’t looking for a permanent relationship, but she hadn’t listened, plugging along like a naïve idiot and trusting everything would work out right. After what he’d said last night in the water, she knew he cared about her, but obviously it ended there. Oh God, had Russell given her a pity lay? She wanted to crawl into a small space and never emerge. At least it would keep the fractured organ in her chest in one place instead of spilling out onto the floor like it was attempting to do now.
“Abby.” Honey had moved across the room to lay a hand on Abby’s back. “You know you can talk to us about anything, right? We can help with whatever is going on.”
“The way you helped with this weekend away? Because it didn’t.” The anger burst from her mouth before she could control it, but guilt had her wanting to stuff it all back in. “I’m sorry. I didn’t mean that.”
Roxy laid her head on Abby’s shoulder. “Hey, it’s okay to get pissed once in a while. And you’re right, we forced this weekend on you without considering it might make things worse.”
“No. It was sweet. Really sweet.” Abby tried to swallow away the tightness in her throat. These were her best friends. The normal behavior here was to have a good old-fashioned girl talk. There was even a chance she would feel marginally better afterward if such a thing were possible when it felt like a war had been fought inside her rib cage. And there it was again, that faithful fear of humiliation. She’d been ditched. How could they relate to something so painful? Their boyfriends probably already missed them, while Russell couldn’t get away from her fast enough. “I don’t want to talk about it,” she finished in a whisper.
“Okay,” Honey said, rubbing circles into Abby’s back. “We’ll be here when you’re ready, though.”
I’ll never be ready. I’ll never forget how horrible I feel right now, in this moment.
And in this moment, I never want to see Russell again.
Chapter 16
RUSSELL FELT LIKE an imposter. Not because he was wearing a monkey suit and loafers, waiting for his appointment with the loan officer, scheduled to begin in fifteen minutes. And not because he’d put on his father’s best watch for the first time since it had been bestowed on him. No, he felt like an imposter for functioning. Eating breakfast, driving his truck, inhaling. It was all a giant, fucking sham because he wanted to