CHAPTER THIRTEEN ~ ABBY ~ NOW #2
Tonight will be one of those nights that gets filed away with my happy memories of sleepovers during university.
Graeme and Brodie had everything set up when Drew and I returned from our outing this afternoon.
They’d borrowed a giant air mattress from a friend and had covered it with blankets and pillows.
A mix of our favourite sweet and savoury snacks awaited us, and once Fern returned from meeting her friend, Graeme offered to go get us fish and chips for dinner.
The floor around us is littered with take-out containers, half-empty chip bags, crumpled chocolate wrappers, and cans of Scotland’s famous soft drink, Irn Bru.
After watching several episodes of Outlander—which we thought was fitting after our visit to Doune Castle the other day—Drew started to yawn.
“I’m a boring married lady now, you guys,” she’d said as she snuggled against my side. “I’m usually in bed before ten these days, and I’ve forgotten how to party.”
She was asleep five minutes later.
Now I glance down at her, smiling at how peaceful she looks.
Fern is on my other side, picking at a bowl of cheese and onion crisps, her eyes trained on the steamy scene of Jamie and Claire playing out on the TV.
Between my conversation with Drew earlier and being in the middle of this little nest tonight, my heart feels like it’s going to burst.
Fern glances over and laughs softly when she sees Drew is asleep. She sets her bowl of crisps aside and pauses the TV, climbing over me to help me get Drew settled on the mattress. Drew murmurs something about home and having the best night before curling onto her side and falling back to sleep.
“Are you still in love with Scotland this time around?” Fern asks quietly after we’ve turned off the TV and the lamp closest to Drew.
“To quote a Savage Garden song: truly, madly, deeply,” I say, drawing a chuckle from her. “Part of me was worried I’d built it up so much or that my feelings would have changed over time, but...no. I feel the same sense of magic and wonder as I did back then.”
“This country certainly is unlike anywhere else.” She pins me with a look that makes my heart flip-flop in my chest. “Is it the only thing you’re still truly, madly, deeply in love with?”
My hand freezes halfway to the bag of chocolate I was reaching for. “What do you mean?”
“Abby. You and I may not be as close as you and Drew are, but I know you. You were never the same after you came back from Scotland all those years ago. We didn’t see each other as much once you moved to Toronto, but I knew something was different.
Your spark had dulled a bit. I chalked it up to the big life transition of moving, working, and living in a new city, but whenever Graeme came up, your whole demeanour changed. ”
I lean toward Drew until I can hear her deep, even breaths. When I sit up, I angle so I’m facing Fern. She does the same, resting her bent knees on top of mine. “Drew doesn’t know.”
“And I’d never say anything,” Fern assures me. “It’s not my place. But I think you should tell her.”
“It’s too late now,” I say automatically. “In twenty years of friendship, this is the only thing I’ve ever kept from her. It’s not like it matters at this point anyway.”
“Why not?”
I sigh. “For starters, Graeme has moved on.”
She lifts one eyebrow. “And you haven’t?”
“Of course I have. I meant to say Graeme and I have both moved on. It’s been years.”
“Hmm.” She falls silent, dropping her attention to her hands and playing with the many rings on her fingers.
I know her well enough to know she’s contemplating what to say next.
To those outside our friend circle, it may seem like Fern lives in her own little world.
While that’s true some of the time, she’s always been the observer of The Crew.
She sees things the rest of us don’t, which means I shouldn’t be surprised she knew I was in love with Graeme.
She makes another humming sound and nods to herself as if she’s decided to say whatever is on her mind. “And yet he still looks at you as if you hung the moon. And you...well, you look at him as if you see your forever.”
Before I can respond, she pats my leg and gets to her feet. “I’m going to go wash my hands. All I can smell is chippy sauce and cheese and onion crisps.”
“You’re really going to drop that bomb and then just walk away?” I whisper-hiss.
“It’s called a truth bomb for a reason. Maybe it’ll shake you up and get you moving.”
“Get me moving where?” Not for the first time in our many years of friendship, I feel like I’m conversing with Yoda, who doles out wisdom in riddles. That feeling is cemented when Fern’s only response is an enigmatic smile as she heads out of the room.
Muttering to myself, I tidy the area around our bed and gather our trash and dirty dishes.
In the kitchen, I wash the dishes and leave them to dry overnight.
Down the hall, Graeme’s office door is slightly ajar.
The thin rectangle of light spilling across the floor is the only thing illuminating the dark hallway.
By the time I return to the living room, Fern is stretched out on her side of the bed, scrolling through her phone.
I step back into the hall, my eyes going immediately to that strip of light on the floor.
Curiosity gets the best of me, and I slink over to the door to peek inside.
There’s been no reason for me to be inside this room since we arrived, so this is my first time seeing it.
A bookcase takes up most of one wall, with two comfortable-looking armchairs and a small table in front of it.
Graeme is sitting at a large desk across the room between the two windows.
Instead of facing the computer, he’s swivelling his desk chair gently from side to side and staring into space.
Other than his pensive expression, the first thing I notice is that he’s wearing glasses. Seeing Graeme in glasses reminds me of seeing him in a kilt for the first time. Fern said I look at him as if I see my forever, but if she could see me right now, I bet my expression would be pure lust.
“You can come in,” Graeme says, startling me. “I should be finishing up some work, but my brain stopped working about ten minutes ago.”
I step fully into the room, stopping just inside the door.
“You lasses having fun?” he asks.
“Yeah, it’s been a great night. Thanks again for setting it up.”
“My pleasure,” he says. “Do you need anything?”
“No. Drew fell asleep a while ago, and Fern is ready for bed. I was just...being nosy.”
His face softens as he chuckles. He takes off his glasses, tossing them onto the desk with one hand and rubbing his eyes with the other.
I watch him for a moment before my gaze drifts over his shoulder to the framed photos on the wall.
Like the gallery in the spare bedroom, they’re all pictures I took fourteen years ago.
“They’re all over the flat, which I’m sure you’ve noticed,” he says when I can’t pry my eyes away from a trio of shots I took on the Isle of Skye.
“I’m surprised you’d want them around. Aren’t they a reminder of...” I trail off, unsure how to finish that sentence. It feels odd and selfish to say ‘a reminder of me’.
“They’re a reminder of one of the best few weeks of my life,” Graeme says. “People comment on them all the time, assuming I bought them from a professional, and asking where they can buy some for themselves. They’re gorgeous shots, Abby.”
One side of my mouth lifts in an absent smile. “Thank you. I just thought it might be...that you...” I huff out a frustrated breath. I shouldn’t be in here. If I were smart, I’d go back to the living room, curl up with the others, and go to sleep.
“Thought what?” Graeme asks.
“I thought you hated me,” I say in a rush. “After what happened at the wedding, and then how we grew apart.”
Graeme nods slowly, turning his gaze toward the dark window.
“There was a stretch of time after the wedding when I’ll admit I didn’t like you very much.
I could never hate you, though.” He swivels his chair to face me once more, pinning me with those cerulean eyes.
“I’ve never loved anyone as much as I love you, Abby. ”
My heart lodges in my windpipe, making it hard to breathe.
I wonder if he meant to use the present tense.
As much as I love you. Something like panic stirs in my belly, clawing its way up my throat.
“I should go.” I spin around and make it just outside the door when Graeme calls my name.
A second later, he gently grips my upper arm, pulling me to a stop.
“Don’t go.” His tone is earnest with an underlying current of pleading.
“We don’t have to talk about the past. We can get to know each other as the people we are now.
Brodie and Drew mention you often, but sort of in passing.
I assume they think we’re still in regular contact and know what’s going on in each other’s lives.
I’d like to know if you’d like to tell me. ”
The last few years without regular contact with Graeme have been torture.
Knowing I was the cause of the rift made it a million times worse.
When I met and fell in love with Rodger, it soothed some of the ache, but it never completely went away.
I missed my friend as much as I missed what we became during those two weeks after the others left Scotland.
Graeme’s hand slips down my arm to grasp my fingers. “Please?”
With that one word, any thoughts I had of saying no flutter away. Graeme keeps hold of my hand as he leads me toward the chairs, as if he’s afraid I’ll change my mind and run.
I can’t blame him.