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“And what do you want from her?”

Abagail was brought to silence by that question. She had no answer to give. Every time she tried to form words, nothing would pull together, and nothing made sense. She must have stayed there in silence too long because Elia tried to pry it from her in a different way.

“What does your fondness mean?”

Again, Abagail was brought to silence. All she knew was that she was comfortable with Nicola, longer term than she was comfortable with most. But that didn’t mean she could give Nicola what Nicola wanted or needed.

“You said I was aromantic,” Abagail answered, avoiding Elia’s question.

“I’ve long suspected it.”

“So I won’t be good for Nicola long term. I can’t give her what she wants.”

“Do you know what she wants? Have you asked her?” Elia finished her drink and set her glass on the table between their two chairs.

Abagail had barely even had any of hers. She frowned into it, not having an appetite for any more at the moment. The turmoil she was feeling was far too strong, and it bothered her. It shouldn’t, but it did. “I can’t love her.”

“Is she asking for you to?”

“No, but I can’t do that. I can’t give her what she wants.”

“I’m going to ask this again, Abs, and answer it this time. Have you asked her what she wants?”

“She was engaged to Warren.” Abagail shook her head. “So yeah, she wants marriage. I’m sure she wants kids and a family and everything that she doesn’t have.”

“I wouldn’t make assumptions. They can get you into bad spaces.”

Abagail hated when Elia talked like that. She just wished that sometimes Elia could come out and say what she was meaning and what exactly she was thinking. Then again, she wasn’t quite sure that she wanted that answer either.

“I’ll never be perfect for anyone, Elia. You know that as well as I do. I’m too specific, too temperamental, too distant. No onecan put up with me for long.” Abagail turned her glass on her knee, not daring to look into Elia’s eyes.

“It’s not like you to get all self-deprecating. Do you actually mean that or are you just venting to avoid?”

Fuck Elia for calling her out on that one too. Abagail knocked back her drink and looked Elia directly in the eye. “You can’t tell me that I’m a good friend.”

“I’ll never tell you that you’re a bad one,” Elia countered, leaning over the arm of her chair and getting even closer to Abagail. “And you’re still avoiding.”

“Sometimes I hate you.”

“Oh, you love me. It’s the only reason I’m still here.” Elia laughed. “But if you want to take a break from the prodding, I’ll allow it. For now.”

“Thank God.” Abagail slumped back in her chair. “Make me another drink, will you? I have a feeling this is going to be a long night.”

“You know it will.”

thirty-one

“Uh… hello?”

Nicola stepped into the kitchen, planning to grab dinner before heading up to her room, but she stopped short. There was a woman in there, one she’d never seen before. She had her back to the door, but her hair was long, past her shoulders, little gray wisps throughout it. She had on jeans, which was odd to see in Abagail’s world, and a cardigan, but it still was chilly outside.

She spun around, her long face slack and her eyes narrowed before she instantly relaxed. “Hi.”

“Who are you?” Nicola asked, trying to keep her tone as gentle as possible. She didn’t want to probe deeper into Abagail’s life than she needed to, but she definitely wanted to know who was going to be staying in the house overnight if she was still living there technically. It was the courteous thing to do, not that Abagail really ever thought about those things.

“Elia…” She paused and then held her hand out, the small gold tennis bracelet dangling off her thin wrist. “You must be Nicola.”

“Oh.” So Abagail had been talking about her. What exactly had she been saying? Because Nicola wasn’t a permanent part of Abagail’s life like Elia was. “Good to meet you, finally.” Nicolapursed her lips and took Elia’s hand, shaking it. “You’re here for a visit.”