“Oh?” I laughed. “I’ve been back for a bit. You missed the fucking cuss-out party.”
“You didn’t let me finish, asshole! I called to cuss you out, but I can hear a smile in your voice.”
My smile faded. “You can still do it, you know,”
“I don’t like yelling.”
I leaned against the porch railing. “You yell at Beau all the time.”
“Yeah, because he’s Beau. He’s an idiot, but he’s my idiot.”
I’d known Abbie long enough to guess when she was deflecting. I’d also been expecting this phone call. Grayson told me that the entire ranch had been upset over my disappearance, but Abbie had been distraught. When she didn’t call, I took her silence as well-deserved anger. I’d let everyone in my life down to finish something that had been tearing my life apart. And even though I have no regrets about leaving, I do regret hurting my family, the people who were there for me during my darkest hours. My silence and my absence were things I never expected to give them. Yet, it happened. Things were done and said that I can never take back. All I could do was show up when I could, be there for them when they wanted me to be, and heal.
“I’m sorry,” I said, my voice low and thick.
“For what?” she shot back. “For leaving without so much as a goodbye?”
“No. I’m not sorry for leaving, Abs. I’m sorry for hurting you and everyone else.”
I heard her sniffle. “You scared the shit out of us.”
I took a deep breath, eyes on the ocean. “I scared myself,” I murmured.
“Grayson told Mags everything.”
“Yeah, I know. He told me he did when he was chewing my ass.”
“Is she still there?” Abbie asked, her voice hopeful.
My neck twisted as I looked over my shoulder to her house. “Yeah. Yeah, she’s in Astoria.”
“The boys weren’t too hard on you when you showed up, were they?”
“Not as hard as you’re going to be,” I joked, smirking at my shoes. “Let’s get it over with.”
“You sure?”
Checking my watch, I let out a sigh. “You have two minutes. Go.”
For the next two minutes, my friend attempted to cuss me out. It only lasted two sentences before she started crying and said she was coming to Astoria next week for the story. She demanded to see me, and I promised I’d be here. She cried some more, and once again, I marveled at the fact that her tears didn’t make me want to crawl out of my skin like Angel’s did.
A few minutes later, I came back in, finding Angel right where I left her. The guilt on my shoulders was a little lighter now that Abbie had forgiven me. One less thing to worry about, one less thing to apologize for. I focused on the present, grounding myself. The large windows behind the couch were open, and a light breeze flowed in, shifting her sheer white curtains, the shadows of the tree leaves dancing on the warm hardwoods. Just outside, perched on a branch, a robin sang in the afternoon glow. For a moment, I couldn’t believe my eyes. The scene in front of me was something out of a dream, a dream that, on the right nights, had the power to shove the nightmares back into the lock box and give me a bit of reprieve. My eyes dropped to her peaceful face once more, and I stared. Unabashedly.
I don’t know how much time passed, but eventually, I sat on the love seat, leaned back, and let the tension in my body loosen. I couldn’t take my eyes off her. Before long, I’d memorized herbreathing pattern, clocked six eye twitches, and heard four small whimpers.
For the first time in nearly a decade, I felt peace, and I allowed myself to rest.
The sound of soft humming forced me from a dream of sunlight, laughter, and Angel. My eyes slowly opened to find the real sunlight was nearly gone. The windows were closed, and the couch across from me was empty. The pile of blankets had migrated from the couch to a large woven basket by the fireplace, each one neatly folded and stacked. Everything was so perfect. It felt like I was in a magazine, disoriented and out of place. I sat up and rolled my neck, and my body sighed. For the first time in years, I felt rested—relaxed. The feeling was foreign to me, and I didn’t know what to do or how to proceed.
A smell hit my nostrils then, a blend of herbs and spices that had my mouth watering. I looked over my shoulder, my eyes trying to follow the scent and the soft humming. I was on my feet quickly, the floorboards creaking under my weight as I moved across the foyer and dining room. The smell got stronger,the humming louder with each step. I rounded the corner and stopped at the mouth of the kitchen, my eyes locked on her.
Angel’s back was to me. She was washing something in the sink, the small curtains pulled shut over the window above it. To my right, there was an array of pots and pans perched on the gas range, steam rising from each. My eyes shifted to the pile of prepped veggies and herbs tucked into little bowls on the counter. My stomach growled, reminding me that I hadn’t eaten today. Now that I’d had a power nap, my body was ready to catch up on the next thing I’d been denying it.
Angel sang quietly, pulling my focus away from the food. Shock slammed into me as my brows came together, my shoulders rigid. The familiar tune seeped into my bones, the lyrics flowing out of her like they’d been written for her and her alone. She folded the dish towel and hung it over the edge of her farm sink before bracing her hands on it. Her fingers tapped to the beat as her body swayed gently. The lump formed in my throat as she hummed the melody and shut off the faucet. Her fingers tapped again, mirroring the drums, and I watched, in a trace, as she became lost in a world of music. She started singing the guitar notes before the words came again, filling the space, calling out to me. Eventually, she went back to humming as goose bumps rose along my arms, my chest tight, my breath trapped in my throat. I waited until she stopped humming before I tried to find words.
It was harder than I expected, so I settled for gentle throat clearing.
She whirled around, her hair following her, hitting her face as she let out a small yelp. And fuck me, I couldn’t help it. My lips twitched, but due to the uncertainty shining in her honey eyes, I forced the smile to remain hidden. “Sorry,” I murmured, putting my hands in my pockets. “I didn’t mean to scare you.”
