Chapter 33 #2
"Let's just say that when our dear father left her, my mother never got over it. She shut down, so to speak; I was too little to understand her attitude back then. But she changed. She became frivolous, rigid, strict, demanding—anything but warm or close," Abigail explains.
"She pulled away from you?" Erin asks, stunned.
"Well, she didn't abandon me, which is more than I can say for our father, but she turned into a robot.
She decided she had to raise a perfect daughter, turn me into a woman no man would leave, like he left her.
She put all her damn energy into that. Only excellence counted.
I had to be the best at everything, and if I was the best at one thing, she'd just sign me up for another. "
"Things like what?" Erin asks.
"Anything. Sports, chess, even cooking. Fuck, I hated the damn kitchen," Abigail snaps, tossing the last ice cube into the shower.
"And playing?" Erin asks, her voice breaking.
"Playing..." Abigail smiles. "That was for weak girls, according to her. And we weren't. She molded me until there came a point when I didn't even know who I was. Then one day, when I was twenty, I got the bright idea to tell her I liked girls."
Abigail laughs, and so does Liam.
"Brilliant idea," he says, raising his empty glass because they've finished the bottle.
"It was like killing her while she was still alive," Abigail says.
"She'd poured all the rage our father's abandonment caused into creating a perfect woman to bring a man to heel, and it turns out I'd been fucking women since I was fifteen and had zero intention of trying anything else. I wish I'd told her sooner."
"What happened?" Erin asks.
"She kicked me out that same afternoon. Told me I was dead to her, that I was the biggest disappointment of her life, that kind of thing."
"My God, Abby... Is that why she didn't come to your graduation?"
"That's why you were the only one at my graduation." Abigail gives her knee a squeeze, probably the first real show of affection she's given her all this time.
That's one of her best memories from that time, the day of her graduation. She wasn't expecting anyone. She knew her mother wouldn't go, and her father even less, but when she stepped down after getting her diploma, Erin was there, smiling and clapping with pride.
Her little sister, who was fourteen then, snuck out of the house and took three buses to see Abigail graduate. And that wasn't all. She gave her a present, one she bought with her savings: a silver watch that Abigail has worn ever since, getting it repaired every time it broke.
"Why did you never tell me?" Erin asks.
"I was fine," Abigail says. "My mother kicking me out was the best thing that could've happened to me. I started to breathe when she did, and to take control of my life. My studies were covered thanks to our father, so it wasn't hard to get by."
"But you were alone, Abby. You've been alone your whole life," she murmurs again, her voice tight.
"I've been fine," she insists, trying to make her sister feel better. "I've got my job, I've also got this one," she says, nodding at Liam with a soft smile, "and I've got you. Stop freaking out," she snaps, as if it didn't matter.
It matters to Erin, but she knows she won't get much more from her sister on that front; today has been an achievement.
"You feeling better?" Liam asks, checking the time.
"Yeah. Go before your wife throws you out," Abigail replies.
"Okay." Liam stands, but lets out a little laugh when he wobbles. "Shit," he says, surprised.
"Keys." Abigail holds out her hand, palm up.
Liam doesn't argue. He pulls the car keys from his pocket and hands them to her.
"Yeah, better call a cab."
"Thanks for coming, Liam," Erin says.
He makes a little gesture with his hand and looks at them from the doorway.
"I should immortalize this moment. I need proof that Abigail Stone has eaten sitting on a bathroom floor and is now half drunk."
"If you so much as take your phone out of your pocket, I'll cut your hands off with the bread knife," Abigail threatens.
"God forbid I try. See you, ladies."
"I'm going to have a terrible hangover tomorrow," Erin says when they hear the apartment door close.
"It's Saturday; you can spend the day sprawled on the couch doing nothing," Abigail replies.
"Right... You didn't talk to him," Erin comments.
"What?"
"About whatever it is that got you like this, Abby. You didn't tell him. The topic of our father came up and we focused on that, and I'm glad—I've wanted to connect with you for a damn long time—but you didn't end up here almost dying because of that."
"True," Abigail admits, to her sister's surprise; Erin clears her throat and even shivers.
"And do you want to tell me now that you're calmer?"
"Taylor," she says, nothing more.
"Taylor? The girl you're working with now?" Erin tries to concentrate, her mind a bit foggy.
"Yeah."
"What's going on with her?"
With a clear head, Erin might have connected the dots immediately, but now it's hard. She feels everything moving very slowly in her head, and Abigail isn't helping with her short answers.
"Everything."
"'Everything.' Okay," Erin says, drinking the water left in Abigail's glass. "Everything can cover a lot, Abby. Can you be more specific?"
Abigail laughs, incredulous. At another time she would have told her to piss off, but now she really wants her opinion, if only to be sure just how far her cruelty goes.
"I slept with her when I was in Smithville."
"Ah," Erin says. "I thought you didn't mess around with your singers."
"I don't. But I did with her. Several times."
"Uh-huh."
Abigail turns and looks at her with one eyebrow raised.
"What the hell is that supposed to mean?"
"I don't know; you tell me," Erin replies.
Her older sister tells her everything from the beginning.
She tells her about that first time they slept together when she didn't know who Taylor was.
The second time, when she already knew and still couldn't help herself.
And all the other times, plus that sort of pact they made while they were in Smithville and how it all ended when they returned to New York.
She explains her reasons and, surprisingly, Erin understands them.
She talks about Taylor's lack of self-control, all her attempts to get close because, to her, Abigail's reasons are absurd.
She talks about how she's ignored her the last week, how cruel she's been to her, and she tells her what she saw this morning, going blank when she finishes.
"Wow. I'm guessing knowing she's sleeping with another woman didn't make you feel very good," Erin concludes.
Abigail gives a bitter smile.
"It felt like being split open, but I pushed her to it. It's what I wanted—put distance..."
"Except you didn't expect it to hit you like that," Erin deduces.
"No," Abigail admits, "but it doesn't matter now. It's what had to happen and..."
Abigail tries to stand, but she can't because her sister's hands on her shoulders press her back down.
"Abby, wait. We're not talking about the weather, for fuck's sake, we're talking about your feelings, and they matter," Erin says.
"Feelings?" Abigail frowns.
"Yes, damn it." Erin laughs for a second. "My God, you're not a fucking robot, Abby. You feel things, and what you feel matters. If you're in love with Taylor, you can't act like you aren't."
"Of course I can," Abigail says.
Now it's Erin who stands, and she sways the same way Liam did, so she has to brace a hand on the sink.
"Shit, I'm going to hate you for this tomorrow," she says, pinching the bridge of her nose for a second. "Okay, up."
Erin holds out her hand and Abigail takes it. She's pretty dizzy too, so she braces beside her sister.
"You're allowed to feel these things, Abby, and to go with them.
I can understand all your reasons for keeping your distance from Taylor if she's just a whim, an attractive girl you fuck who distracts you, but if you've fallen in love with her and she's in love with you too, to hell with your damn reasons.
" Erin gives her a gentle nudge with her shoulder, but Abigail nearly falls and has to grip the marble sink harder.
"None of that is that simple. I haven't exactly been kind to her and, even if I had been, all I can see now is the damn image of that hickey on that girl's neck."
"Because it hurt you. But that's love, sister," Erin explains. "It hurts if you really feel enough. Let's sleep. Tomorrow, with a clear head, you'll see it differently."
"I think I'll see it the same."
Erin whimpers, desperate in the face of Abigail's stubbornness.
"Then you'll have to stay away from Taylor completely.
If you're not willing to act like a grown woman and talk to her, lay out what you really feel, let Liam be the one to take care of her career.
That's how I see it, Abby," Erin says, walking her to her bedroom, "either you go all in, or you have to disappear from her life completely. For you and for her."
Abigail lies down on her side of the bed, fully dressed, and Erin collapses on the other. They both stare at the ceiling until, at some point, Abigail's mind goes dark and Erin decides to stay with her to make sure she isn't alone if she wakes up with another panic attack.