Chapter Twenty-nine
Abigail-Ann
“Romance is the glamour which turns the dust of everyday life into a golden haze.”
~ Elinor Glyn
I woke up with a start, the pillow beneath me slightly damp from where my cheek had pressed into it. Disoriented, I blinked at the faint glow of the bedside lamp. My bed? The last thing I remembered was collapsing on the couch, utterly drained.
Mikkel must’ve carried me here.
I groaned and buried my face into the pillow. Three hours. That was all the time I had left before my shift, and the exhaustion still clung to me. I’d never imagined working in a bookstore could be this draining. The constant movement, the barrage of questions from customers, and the endless shelving was physically and mentally taxing. But at least it didn’t give me much time to sit and think .
Dragging myself out of bed, I stumbled into the bathroom. The hot shower was supposed to wash away the tension, but the gnawing unease I’d carried all day remained.
After wrapping myself in my robe, I stepped into the hallway. That’s when I heard a loud, sharp noise, like something being slammed.
I froze.
The sound came again, muffled but unmistakable, followed by Mikkel’s voice. But this voice wasn’t the calm, warm tone I knew. It was sharp, cold, and filled with a fury that made my stomach twist.
I inched closer, my feet almost hesitant as I approached the living room.
“Are you even listening to me?” Mikkel’s tone cut like a blade, sharp and venomous. “I gave you a fucking deadline. I handed you everything you needed on a silver platter. What part of this did you not understand?”
His voice boomed through the room, the kind of anger that didn’t just fill the space— it smothered it.
“ Esto es jodidamente inaceptable! ” 62 he roared, slamming his palm on the countertop, the sound reverberated like a warning shot. “Don’t come to me with bullshit excuses when your incompetence is the reason we’re in this mess.”
My heart pounded as the tension in the air thickened, suffocating me where I stood.
“No!” he barked, the word like a gunshot. “Fix it. I don’t give a fuck how you do it, but this better be resolved by sundown. If it’s not, someone’s losing more than just their job. Do you understand me?”
His face was hard, his eyes blazing with fury as he paced the room, his phone pressed to his ear. His shoulders were tense, and his free hand moved wildly, as if he couldn’t contain the rage that poured out of him. This wasn’t just frustration; it was a warning of the man he could become when things spiraled out of control.
I couldn’t breathe.
My chest tightened as his voice hit me like a tidal wave. I gripped the edge of the wall, my knees shaking.
And then, just like that, I was back there.
Joshua.
“Are you stupid, Abigail? How many times do I have to tell you?” His voice echoed in my mind, searing and cruel. I remembered standing in the kitchen, feeling small as he towered over me, his rage consuming every inch of the space. Plates shattered against the floor, one after the other, his fury growing with every crash. I couldn’t move, couldn’t speak, couldn’t breathe.
The sound of his anger blended with Mikkel’s voice, and for a second, I couldn’t tell where one ended and the other began.
No. No. This isn’t Joshua. This isn’t the same.
I forced myself to blink, to pull myself back to the present. But the fear lingered, curling around my ribs like a vise.
Mikkel’s voice was still sharp, cutting through the room like a blade. “I don’t give a fuck about anyone’s excuses. Get it fixed.” He slammed his hand down on the counter, the sound making me jump.
I stepped forward without realizing it, the soft pad of my feet on the floor catching his attention. His head snapped up, and for a second, his face was unrecognizable—his jaw clenched, his eyes stormy, and his entire body radiating fury.
But then he saw me.
His expression softened slightly, but the anger didn’t entirely leave his features. He exhaled harshly, running a hand over his face.
“Fuck,” he muttered, his voice lower now but still rough. He looked at me again, his eyes searching mine. “Baby.”
The word was soft, but it didn’t ease the tension in my chest. I couldn’t move, couldn’t respond, as his earlier anger still lingered in the air like smoke after a fire.
Mikkel stepped closer, his hands raised slightly as if to calm me, but it only made my chest tighten further .
“ Amor ,” 63 he started, his voice softer now, the edge of anger gone.
“Don’t,” I managed to say, stepping back.
His eyes widened, and he stopped in his tracks. “Abigail…”
“Don’t,” I repeated, barely above a whisper, backing further into the bedroom. The door felt like salvation, and I reached for it, closing it firmly behind me.
I slumped against the door, the wood cool against my back as my legs gave out and I slid to the floor.
The tears came before I could stop them. My hands pressed to my face, trying to muffle the sobs that wracked my body. My mind raced, faster than I could catch up to it.
I’d known. From the moment he told me about how his anger sometimes got the better of him, I’d known it was there. A part of him. But I’d never witnessed it. Never thought I would have to.
And seeing it now, seeing him like that… It was a shock I hadn’t been ready for.
A muffled knock sounded against the door, followed by his voice, low and filled with guilt.
“Baby, I’m so sorry.”
I didn’t respond, my throat too tight to form words.
“I—I didn’t mean for you to hear me like that,” he continued, his voice cracking slightly. “It’s work. Things went wrong, and I let it get the best of me.”
He paused, and I heard him exhale heavily. “I should’ve handled it differently. I know I scared you. I saw it in your eyes. Abigail, please…” His voice softened even more, almost pleading. “Please don’t shut me out, mi amor. ” 64
The words spilled out, tumbling over each other like he was desperate for me to hear him.
“I never wanted you to see that side of me. God, the last thing I ever want is for you to feel unsafe with me. You’re everything to me, baby. Please .”
I didn’t move. My hands rested in my lap, trembling as I tried to sort through the rush of emotions. This wouldn’t change how I felt about him. I knew that much. But I needed time—just a moment to sit, to think , to let myself breathe again.
After what felt like an eternity, I glanced at the clock. My three hours were almost up. Work beckoned, demanding my attention.
Reluctantly, I forced myself to my feet, wiping at my face and willing the tears to stop. I got dressed quickly, pulling my braids into a high ponytail. When I reached for the door, it felt heavier than usual, like it was carrying the weight of the day.
But what stopped me in my tracks was Mikkel.
“You’re still here,” I said softly, almost to myself.
He stood in the living room, his tall frame tense, and his eyes… They were red. His expression was panicked, vulnerable, like he’d been crying.
I didn’t know what was worse—seeing him angry or seeing him like this.
“I couldn’t leave,” he said quickly. “I couldn’t leave knowing you were upset, knowing I scared you. I—I can’t lose you. I need you to know how sorry I am. For everything. For all of it.”
I opened my mouth, but he kept going, his words spilling out faster than I could process them.
“And I have to take you to work. I wouldn’t be able to—”
“Okay,” I said, cutting him off, unsure of what else to say. My voice sounded foreign, flat, but it was all I could manage.
He followed me to the door, his presence quiet but heavy. As I reached for my bag, he spoke again, his tone hesitant.
“Abigail, I know this probably reminded y—”
I froze. The air around me felt thick again, suffocating. “Don’t finish that sentence,” I said, my voice sharper now. I turned to him, my eyes meeting his. “Let’s just go.”
The words hung between us, heavy and unspoken. He nodded, stepping aside to let me pass .
As we stepped outside into the cool afternoon air, I felt the weight of the moment—his apology, his panic, the lingering tension—and wondered if I’d ever be able to forget the look on his face.
The drive to work felt different today. Mikkel sat in the driver’s seat, his hesitation palpable. His hand twitched by his side, like he wanted to reach out but wasn’t sure how, or if I’d even let him. For the first time, we drove in complete silence, the absence of our usual playlist making the quiet almost deafening.
I kept my eyes fixed on the road, watching the city blur past. I felt his gaze on me—brief glances from the corner of my eye—but I couldn’t bring myself to meet them. Not yet. My thoughts were too tangled, my emotions too raw.
The silence stretched all the way to Book Culture. When the car finally rolled to a stop at the curb, we both moved to speak, but the words faltered and died before they could form.
For now, I had to go to work, even if I had no idea what came next.
The day was slow, or maybe it just felt that way because my mind refused to stop spinning. Every time I passed a mirror or glanced at a reflection in the glass doors, I found myself pausing, as if I could see something in my own eyes that wasn’t quite right.
Mikkel’s messages popped up, one after another, each one seemingly more apologetic than the last. Baby, I’m sorry ... I’m sorry I made you feel unsafe ... Please talk to me.
I didn’t know how to respond. I wanted to, I really did, but I couldn’t bring myself to type out the words. What could I say that wouldn’t sound like a lie?
I was almost halfway through checking the stock when a coworker popped their head around the corner.
“Hey, Abigail. Someone’s outside to see you.”
I set the clipboard down and raised an eyebrow. A visitor? I hadn’t been expecting anyone. Frowning, I followed her out, scanning the area. Then I spotted a man in a dark suit, standing by a black car—far too formal for a casual visit.
“Ms. Abigail?” he asked, his voice polite but firm.
I blinked, taken off guard. “Yeah?”
He extended a small bag and a bouquet of flowers, a slight smile on his lips. The moment I saw the arrangement—primroses and yellow roses arranged together beautifully—I knew this was from Mikkel.
“Mr. Suarez sent me to give these to you.”
“Thanks,” I replied, taking the items from him. He gave me a slight nod before turning back to the car, leaving me standing there, thoughts swirling in chaos.
I took a deep breath, pushing the tension aside as I returned to finish my shift. The store was quieter now, and thankfully, someone had come in an hour earlier to cover for me. Relieved, I grabbed my bag and the flowers, heading for the door, eager to finally go home.
But as I stepped onto the curb, my gaze landed on a black Bentley parked a few feet away, one of Mikkel’s license plates unmistakable. My steps faltered, unease prickling at the back of my neck. I froze, staring at the car, and then the door opened. A man stepped out.
“Ms. Abigail?” he asked respectfully.
I nodded. “Yes?”
“Mr. Suarez sent me to get you. He’s at a meeting in Jersey City, so he won’t be able to get you tonight.”
“Alright, then.”
As I slid into the car and dialed my sister’s number, the call rang a few times before she picked up. Aurora’s voice came through just as I lifted the screen, seeking a moment of solitude to catch my breath.
“What happened?” Aurora asked immediately, always sensing when something was wrong, even before I could find the words.
“I need to talk. Are you free?” I asked, my fingers gripping the phone a little too tightly.
“I’m free. ”
I took a deep breath, trying to steady my racing thoughts. “Something happened today… and I don’t know how to feel.”
I exhaled slowly, gathering my thoughts. “He got so angry, Aurora. I’ve never seen him like that before. He was on a work call, and it was like… like he wasn’t even himself. It scared me. I just… I’m so anxious, and it brought back all these memories of how Joshua used to get…”
I stopped, letting out a shaky breath. “It felt too familiar... like I was right back in that dark place. I... I felt like I was suffocating.”
There was a pause before Aurora spoke, her tone calm but steady. “I’m listening, Abi. Keep going.”
I took another breath, trying to hold myself together. “I don’t want to push him away, but I thought we were dif—”
Aurora interrupted gently, “You are different. Mikkel’s anger wasn’t directed at you. I know it might feel that way right now, but you need to remember that.”
I swallowed hard, trying to hold back the tears that were threatening to spill.
“It’s okay to be scared and shaken,” Aurora’s voice was warm with understanding. “But think about everything he’s done for you, how he makes you feel safe and loved. I know this has shaken you, I can feel it through the phone. It’s terrifying, but don’t let this one moment make you forget the good. Ask yourself, is this a dealbreaker? Can you still be with him knowing he has this side?”
Her words cut through my anxiety, and I felt a tear slip down my cheek.
Aurora softened her voice. “I know you’re scared, but I don’t think leaving is what you want. I believe you two can work through this, but it only works if you talk. Communicate. Everything will be okay.”
“I’m not…” I whispered. “I’m just scared. I’m overthinking, and my thoughts are a mess.”
“That’s okay,” Aurora said gently. “You’re allowed to feel overwhelmed. This situation triggered something for you, and no one can invalidate that. But this is just one of those things in relationships. It’s how you move forward that matters. Talk to him when you’re ready. Be honest with him. And don’t push yourself away.”
“I just…” I sniffled, wiping my eyes. “I feel like a mess.”
“Take your time,” she said softly. “Don’t rush. You don’t have to have it all figured out right now. Handle it when you’re ready. Together.”
“Thank you,” I whispered, feeling lighter. “I needed to hear that.”
“I’m always here, Abi. You know that.”
“I know,” I said, steadier now, as I realized we had arrived at my building.
“Call me if you need anything. Anytime,” she added.
“I will,” I promised, heading for my apartment, until I was stopped in my tracks.
Mikkel was at my door. Wasn’t he to be in Jersey City?
“What are you doing here?”
He looked at me with wide, almost frantic eyes, his words tumbling out in a rush, as if they were fighting to escape before he lost his nerve. “I… I couldn’t just go home and know you’re in this state.” He swallowed hard, his voice trembling slightly. “I don’t want you to hate me. I just… I couldn’t leave you like this.”
His words hit me as his mask of control slipped, leaving me struggling to process the flood of emotions.
I stepped forward, slowly, and whispered, “I could never hate you, Mikkel.”
His face seemed to ease at my words, but he still looked like he wasn’t sure what to do with himself. “Can I come in?” he asked, his voice much quieter now, almost hesitant.
I nodded. “Yeah.” I stepped aside, allowing him in.
He took the flowers from me gently, placing them in the vase with a tenderness only he could possess.
“I need tonight to breathe,” I said, my voice quieter now. “To think.”
His eyes softened as he turned toward me, and I could see how badly he wanted to say something, but instead, he just nodded. “Of course.” He ran a hand through his hair. “I know it doesn’t feel like it, but you’re always safe with me. Today, I lost it. I should’ve been more mindful, and for that, I’m sorry, mi reina. I d—”
Mi reina. My queen.
Oh Mikkel.
I cut him off before he could say anything else. “I know.”
His gaze softened, his lips forming a small, apologetic smile. I closed my eyes for a moment, trying to steady myself.
Before I could move, anxiety hit me like a wave. My chest tightened, and I turned toward my room, desperate for space to breathe.
I didn’t want to seem weak, but once I reached my bed, I broke down. Sobs wracked my body as everything—my past, the fear, the confusion—came crashing down. My heart ached for him, for us, but I didn’t know how to fix it.
Eventually, the tears slowed, but my mind raced. I clung to the thought that Mikkel was not my past, reminding myself over and over, or my fears would consume everything good we had.