“You’re right. It’s up to you. Will you lie to your sister over someone you just met?”
Well, shit. When he put it like that, it made it sound bad.
But yes, yes I would. Lucy was the most important person in my life; if she didn’t like Abigail because she was protective over me, then being happy with Abigail would be impossible.
I already had a mountain to climb with the woman I just met, and I didn’t need anyone making it any harder than it needed to be.
Chapter Six
Abigail
Water rushed, flowing against rocks angrily. The cold water splashed on me, waking me up in the early morning. Fog rolled in, a thick sheet over the river, and I stretched my arms above my head, yawning. My skin was cold to the touch, and when I looked down, I saw that I had my nightgown on.
“Oh no,” I whispered to myself, realizing that I left all of my things at the house, where Logan was.
Logan.
That man did something to me. It was hard to explain, and putting it into words was too difficult, but he made me feel something else, something besides bad.
It was good.
; Now that my head was clear, I remembered everything from last night, and I was embarrassed and guilty. I hit him, hard, with a piece of wood. What if I killed him?
I gasped from the thought and the image of him lying on the floor, cold, dead, and alone. The image switched from him to someone else, a man lying in a pool of blood, and the house was different. That familiar sharp pain in my head pierced right through my skull, and I stumbled, my shoulder slamming against the side of the bridge.
Hissing, the skin peeled back, and trickles of blood dripped down my arm.
Blood.
No, I couldn’t go down that road again. I needed to go back and get my bag and then maybe I’d get out of this state and start walking, somewhere that was anywhere but here. Pushing off the wall with a sore foot, I took a hard right up the small hill that was wet with morning dew instead of staying on the sidewalk. This way was shorter. My legs protested, weak from the lack of muscle and nutrition.
Once I climbed up from the bottom of the bridge, the fog thinned since I wasn’t as close to the water now. When I got to the top of the bridge, I leaned against the thick ropes that are attached to the bridge and took a breather.
I looked left and right down the suburban street. White picket fences, trimmed hedges, trashcans are aligned on every driveway, and everyone waved to one another as they passed by. It reminded me of how out of place I really was. I didn’t belong here. I wondered if someone like me belonged anywhere.
Crossing my arms to keep myself warm, I headed toward the house where everything I thought I felt changed in a blink of an eye. My feet ached, and my spirit was tired. I only wanted one good night of sleep, and I could have had that last night if it wasn’t for Logan.
No, that wasn’t fair. I couldn’t blame Logan. Blaming anyone other than myself would be inconsiderate. I was capable of turning my life around; the only thing that stopped me was that I had no idea how.
What could I offer when I learned a new word every day that everyone else knew? Why would someone hire me, someone that took double the amount of time to say or write something down compared to someone who could do it in seconds? Why would someone hire me, spend time teaching me, when there was a chance, I’d wake up tomorrow and remember nothing?
That hadn’t happened yet, but it could, the doctor’s said the trauma I received was significant, and my memory could basically come and go as it pleased. It could stay for long periods of time, or disappear, and everything I learned up to that day would have to be relearned again.
The impending doom of that was enough to keep me down. Staying positive was hard, and looking for the brighter side of things when I hadn’t experienced anything bright seemed pointless.
Logan was bright.
Thinking about Logan made me smile, and the longer I strolled down the street, the more excited I became, and my palms began to sweat. I had to think of an apology, but how do I say sorry to someone I hit with a two by four?
Apologies didn’t come in a size that big.
I looked both ways before I crossed the street and jogged so the car coming didn’t have to slow down or honk its horn for being annoyed with me.
“Hey there!”
I kept walking, and the car next to me matched my pace.