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Fuck, not again!

Yesterday following work, when the crying started, Megan had managed to make it downstairs to her sofa where she had simply sat, letting the sadness and sobs have their way with her until eventually she realized that hours had passed and she was now sitting in a completely dark room, starving because she hadn’t eaten since lunch but having no recollection of that much time passing.

Now it had happened again. Crying. No sense of time passing. Ignoring her basic needs, such as food.

In a panic, she reached for her phone and sent a text to Abby.

I need help!

***

Abby was at Megan’s in fifteen minutes. The first thing she did was order Megan to lay down on the sofa and cover her with a blanket. Then Abby raided Megan’s refrigerator and somehow found enough ingredients to cook her an omelet that she served with an English muffin and some fruit.

After Megan had eaten, Abby poured two glasses of white wine and took a seat next to Megan on the sofa, letting Megan rest her head on her shoulder.

“Maybe she feels the same way,” Abby eventually offered.

Megan, feeling much better now that she had eaten, shook her head.

“If she felt the same way, she wouldn’t have left on Monday night.”

“I get that,” Abby said. “But maybe the fact that she left on Monday night actually means she does feel the same way.”

“You’re talking in riddles,” Megan chastised, sipping some wine.

“Am I?”

“Yes! If Vanessa felt the same way she would have stayed on Monday night and we could have had a conversation about what to do about our situation.”

“And what do you want to do about your situation?” Abby queried.

“I’m not having this discussion, Abs. It’s like one of those stupid games people play like, ‘What would you wish for if a genie gave you three wishes?’ But there are no fucking genies granting three wishes; it’s a stupid game and I won’t play.”

“Fine, fine,” Abby said. “Forget I asked.”

“Just let me sit here and be miserable.”

“No problem. Do you want me to stay the night?”

“If you don’t mind,” Megan said with a mirthless chuckle. “After all, I don’t want to wake up tomorrow and have another one of my crying blackouts and miss my morning meeting with Sophia. That wouldn’t be very vice-presidential of me.”

Chapter 43

At a little past nine-thirty, Vanessa was at home, in pajamas, legs curled up under her on the couch trying to watch a movie. She didn’t even know which movie it was, quite frankly; but because she couldn’t stand the silence of her empty house she had put on Netflix and clicked on the first movie which the service offered up. Some kind of war movie, and it had Sean Connery in it, that was all that registered with her. It didn’t matter, she wasn’t paying attention to it anyway.

Her phone rang. Picking it up she frowned at the Caller ID.

Abby?

She vaguely remembered that she and Abby had exchanged phone numbers in prehistoric times, back when the world was still normal and she and Abby would be part of a larger group of women who would hang out now and then to go to lesbian bars or have backyard barbecues at someone’s house or catch an indie girl band perform. Having the numbers of the various women involved in such outings sometimes made organizing them easier but Vanessa couldn’t recall her and Abby ever actually calling one another.

“Hello?” she greeted tentatively.

“Do you love Megan?” Abby asked. It sounded like she was outside somewhere.

Vanessa’s heart thumped.

“Well?” Abby prodded.