Chapter 54

Abigail woke up to the faint light filtering through the curtains, casting soft shadows across the room. For a moment, she didn’t know where she was. The sheets felt unfamiliar, the pillows smelled like lavender and something else—something that made her heart clench in a way she couldn’t explain.

She blinked groggily, sitting up in the bed. Her muscles ached, her mind foggy, but it only took a second for everything to come rushing back—the rain, the letter, the unbearable weight of it all. Her chest tightened as she glanced around Emma’s room, searching for her.

“Emma?” she whispered, her voice hoarse and trembling. The silence answered her.

Abigail pulled the covers tighter around herself, suddenly feeling small and cold. The events of the day before hit her like a wave crashing over her, and she couldn’t hold it back. Tears burned her eyes as she curled her knees to her chest, pressing her forehead against them.

“They’re alive…” she choked out to no one, her words muffled by the sobs that threatened to escape. “They’re alive, and they left me.”

The emptiness in the room was overwhelming. Abigail looked toward the door, hoping Emma would walk in, that she’d say something—anything—to make the pain go away. But the door remained closed. The weight of yesterday, the lies, the confusion, all came crashing down on her, and Abigail let herself cry.

Tears streamed down her face as she buried herself further into the blankets. She hadn’t cried like this since she was a child, when she first learned her parents were gone—when she believed they’d never come back. The realization that they could have been there all these years shattered something deep inside of her.

Minutes passed, or maybe hours; Abigail wasn’t sure. The clock on the nightstand ticked quietly, a reminder that time kept moving even when she felt like her world had stopped. Her breath hitched as she wiped at her tear-streaked face with the back of her hand, sniffling softly.

Where’s Emma? she wondered, the thought grounding her for just a moment. She needed Emma. Needed her calm, her presence, the way she always seemed to know how to make everything feel just a little bit easier. Without her, the silence felt unbearable.

Abigail glanced at the nightstand and spotted a small note with Emma’s handwriting on it:

I didn’t want to wake you. I’ll be right back—just had to grab a few things. Rest, Abi. You’re safe here.

The words helped, but they weren’t enough to stop the ache in her chest. She laid back down, curling into Emma’s pillow, the faint scent of her calming her just a little. Abigail closed her eyes, tears still slipping down her cheeks as she whispered to herself:

“Please come back soon, Emma.”

The sound of a key turning in the lock startled Abigail from her haze. Her body tensed, and her tear-streaked face turned toward the door, hope and apprehension battling in her chest. The door opened slowly, and Emma stepped inside, her arms laden with bags and her face creased with worry.

“Abi,” Emma said softly, immediately noticing the swollen redness around Abigail’s eyes. She dropped the bags onto the floor and crossed the room in three quick strides, sitting on the edge of the bed.

Abigail didn’t have the strength to respond. Instead, she stared at Emma, her lip trembling as fresh tears began to well up.

“Hey, hey,” Emma said, her voice low and soothing as she reached out to cup Abigail’s face. Her thumb brushed against a tear that had escaped. “I’m here. It’s okay.”

“They’re alive,” Abigail whispered again, the words breaking as they left her lips. “And they left me, Emma. They left me.”

Emma’s face softened, her expression a mixture of sadness and something Abigail couldn’t quite place. “I know,” she said, her voice trembling slightly. “I know it feels like the world is upside down right now, and nothing makes sense. But I’m here, Abi. I promise you, I’m not going anywhere.”

Abigail shook her head, the pain in her chest refusing to subside. “You don’t understand. It’s not just that they’re alive—it’s that they could have been with me this whole time. They could have been there when I needed them most, and they chose not to be.”

Emma gently guided Abigail to rest her head against her shoulder. “We don’t know why they stayed away,” she said softly, stroking Abigail’s hair. “And maybe it doesn’t matter right now. What matters is you, Abi. What you’re feeling, what you need to heal.”

Abigail closed her eyes, letting Emma’s warmth seep into her. For the first time since the revelation, she felt a tiny crack in the wall of despair she had built around herself. “I don’t even know where to start,” she admitted, her voice barely above a whisper.

Emma pulled back just enough to look Abigail in the eyes. “We start here,” she said firmly. “One step at a time, one moment at a time. And you don’t have to do it alone. I’m here, Abi. I’ll always be here.”

The conviction in Emma’s voice made something in Abigail’s chest loosen. It didn’t erase the pain or the confusion, but it gave her a thread to hold onto, a lifeline in the storm. She nodded slowly, her tears slowing as she clung to Emma.

The room fell into a quiet stillness, the kind where words didn’t feel necessary. Emma stayed where she was, her arms a comforting anchor around Abigail. The storm outside Abigail’s heart hadn’t passed, but for now, it had softened, like the calm after a wave crashes on the shore.

After a while, Emma pulled away gently and gave Abigail a small, encouraging smile. “I brought you something,” she said, her tone lighter, though her eyes still held concern. She reached over to one of the bags she’d brought in and pulled out a thermos. “Hot tea. Chamomile and a little honey, just the way you like it.”

Abigail sniffled, her lips twitching into the barest hint of a smile. “You always know,” she murmured, taking the warm thermos into her hands. The heat seeped into her palms, grounding her.

“Of course I know,” Emma teased gently. “It’s part of my job as your girlfriend.”

That drew a soft, breathy laugh from Abigail, the first sound of levity she’d made in what felt like days. It was a fragile thing, but Emma caught it and smiled wider, as if it were a small victory.

Abigail took a sip of the tea, letting its warmth spread through her. She stared at the rim of the thermos for a moment before speaking. “I don’t know what to do next,” she admitted, her voice hesitant. “I feel like… everything I thought I knew was a lie.”

Emma leaned forward, resting her elbows on her knees and looking Abigail in the eye. “Maybe it was, or maybe it wasn’t,” she said carefully. “But Abi, you’re still here. You’re still you. And that means you have a say in what happens next.”

Abigail tilted her head, her brow furrowing. “What do you mean?”

“I mean,” Emma said, her voice gaining a little strength, “you can’t change what they did or didn’t do. But you can decide what you’re going to do now. Whether that’s confronting them, writing them off, or taking time to figure it out, it’s your choice. Nobody else’s.”

The words settled over Abigail, their weight pressing down and then lifting her in equal measure. A choice. She hadn’t thought of it that way. The idea of reclaiming even a sliver of control over the chaos felt foreign but oddly reassuring.

“I don’t know if I’m ready,” she said after a pause.

“You don’t have to be ready,” Emma said, reaching out to squeeze Abigail’s hand. “You just have to take one small step. That’s all.”

Abigail nodded slowly, her grip tightening on Emma’s hand. “Okay,” she said, her voice steadier now. “One step.”

Emma smiled. “That’s my girl.”

They sat there in silence for a moment, the air between them feeling lighter. Abigail still felt the ache in her chest, the confusion and the hurt, but Emma’s presence made it feel bearable. Maybe she wasn’t ready to face everything just yet, but she knew one thing for certain.

She didn’t have to face it alone.