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Abby’s windows were dark when he pulled up to her house. Her car, parked awkwardly on the street, angled out into traffic. That no one had hit it constituted nothing short of a miracle. Taking the front steps two at a time, he pressed the doorbell. It chimed inside, but no other sound came. After several moments, he tried again, then knocked. Still nothing.
Hesitant to call out, not wanting to disturb the neighbors, he wondered if she’d gone out. Maybe back to the hospital. He had no idea where to start searching. Ringing the bell and knocking again, he risked raising his voice. “Abby? Abby if you’re there, it’s Scott. Come open the door.”
Finally, a thump sounded from within.
It took far too long, and each time the silence stretched out he rapped his knuckles against the jamb. Finally, the lock clicked.
The door swung open, and it took Scott’s eyes a moment to adjust to the darkness within. The streetlights behind him shed pale illumination through the open door, throwing Abby’s face into a relief of shadows. Her shoulders slumped, and her tangled hair half fell out of the ponytail she’d pulled it into. Without acknowledging him, she shuffled backwards, turned away, staggered toward the stairs.
“Abby, hey.” He reached for her, catching her arm and pulling her into his chest. “What happened? Is Liam...”
An inhuman sound fell from her lips, somewhere between a scream and a sob. Another followed, then another, crying, but yelling at the same time. She buried her face in his chest, body shaking.
This wasn’t like the panic attack she’d had at his place last spring. This was different. More. It scared him.
Her lips moved, but the words were unintelligible. Only his conversation with Cara gave him enough context to understand.
“He’s gone... He’s gone...” She repeated it again and again, and Scott’s own throat tightened.
“Abby, where’s Gen?” The dog would help her. Abby might have trained her for therapy, but she did as much for Abby, herself, as she did for others.
Abby stilled, face pressed into his shirt, fingers spasming in its folds. Then, a movement so slight he barely caught it. The most minute shake of her head, lips forming a single word.
No.
Grabbing her upper arms and pushing her away until he could lock eyes with her, he couldn’t help the way his hands trembled. “What do you mean, ‘no’?”
Abby’s face crumpled, and she dropped her head. She would have collapsed if not for his strength, and he crushed her to him again. “Okay, okay. When you’re ready. Tell me when you’re ready.”
Nonsense syllables poured from his lips as her body shook and tremored. When it seemed they’d finally tapered off, she’d catch little more than a single breath, then begin sobbing anew.
“Abby?” His shout broke the spell of her grief, and she raised swollen, bloodshot eyes to him. “Abby, I need you to tell me what happened.”
“Liam’s gone,” she croaked, voice cracked and raw. “He’s gone, and Ethan’s alone...”
“Abby, what about Gen?” He interrupted her, afraid if he didn’t, she would once again dissolve into unintelligible sobs.
Abby bit her lip, shook her head, as if she couldn’t even bring herself to say the words. Then, taking a breath, a hysterical bubble of laughter escaped her lips. “She’s at the vet. I knew something was wrong. I knew it. I should have... I should have...”
Her knees gave way, and he sank with her to the floor. She wrapped both arms around her body, as if to keep herself from falling to pieces there, before him.
“I should have...” she mumbled again.
“Oh, Abby.” Pulling her to him, he lifted her off the floor and climbed the stairs to her bedroom, tucking her head beneath his chin as she continued to mumble. Laying her on the bed, he tucked the blanket around her body, whispering reassurances. “Sleep, now, Abby. Get some sleep. It’ll be better in the morning. Rest.”
He rose again, but her fingers clutched at his forearm. “Don’t leave me...”
Sinking down again, he nodded. “Okay. I won’t go. I’m right here.”
Her nails bit into his skin, but he ignored the sting, stretching himself out beside her and draping his other arm over her waist.
“I’m not going anywhere, Abby. I’m here for you.”
Abby woke slowly, a comforting weight across her stomach, and reached down to scratch the delicate bones of Gen’s head. Instead of the expected fine fur, though, her hand slid over rough hair and across thick knuckles. The previous night came back to her, and biting her lip, she fought back tears. Still, she couldn’t fully overcome the sharp burn as she swallowed them away.
A tinkling of bells forced her back to the moment. Rolling to one side, she squeezed Scott’s hand as he grunted in response, arm tightening around her. She slid out of bed, paused until he settled back to sleep, then, hearing the bells again, she padded from the room, pulling the door closed behind her.
Her phone sat on the kitchen bar, screen down, and Abby hesitated as she approached it. She didn’t want to talk to anyone; hadn’t wanted to since...