“What’s going on with you, Abby?” Nina asks, worry evident in her tone.
“Nothing. I just have a lot going on right now with my classes,” I say. It eats at my insides every time I have to lie to my family.
Nina isn’t convinced, but she never is. The girl has always been too smart for her own good, and can always tell when I’m lying. Luckily, after years of trying to get me to open up and failing, she finally gave up. She knows how stubborn I can be.
“You’re lying,” she says bluntly. I clench my jaw and hold back my bitchy remark. We’re only as close as I’ll allow, but we still carry a tight bond, even if it has to be hundreds of miles away.
“No need to state the obvious, Neen. But what’s wrong with me has nothing to do with y’all. Please, just let Mom know I’m okay, and I’ll call her in a few days. I just need time to work through something.”
“Why won’t you ever let us in, Abby?” My heart cracks more at her sad words. “Ever since you left, you’ve shut us out. I’ve never understood why you left so abruptly. Mom and Dad worry about you all the time. You know we would be there for you, no matter what. It’s time you give up this stupid idea of pushing us away and let your family be there. We love you.”
And there goes more fractures to my heart. “None of you would understand,” I tell her sadly.
“How can you know that? We sure as shit won’t understand if you won’t give us the chance.”
A hysterical laugh bubbles up in my chest, but it falls when a sob escapes instead.
“Believe me, I know you wouldn’t understand. I’m not right, Neen. I’ll never be right. I have… things going on that none of you could ever grasp.”
“That’s not fair of you to keep us away, Abby. It’s been eight years. We’re you’re family. Even if we can’t understand whatever it is you’re going through, we’d still be there for you.”
Tears spring to my eyes, and I let them fall on the table. I’m so tired of fighting this. I miss my family so damn much. I could really use their strength right now. But I’m still so afraid to tell them. Afraid they’ll look at me with something other than pure love.
“I know,” I whisper. “Just give me time to think. I promise I’ll try, but I can’t guarantee anything, okay?”
She lets out a relieved sigh, and it makes me feel like shit all over again. I know I’ve put a strain on my family, and the guilt plagues me.
“Okay.”
I lift my head and change the subject. This is the first time I’ve talked to Nina since our mom told me the news about her being pregnant.
“Tell me about the baby.” This time, I’m able to inject some cheeriness into my voice.
Her laugh is strangled at first, but then it comes through with a giddiness that I needed to hear from her right now. Although she’s hesitant at first, like she’s worried about my reaction, she tells me all about the baby. How she believes with certainty that it’s a girl, and she thinks it was conceived the night of her and Jeremy’s anniversary. Last week, they heard the heartbeat for the first time, and both her and Jeremy cried the entire time. She’s already started buying baby items, even though she still has well over seven months before she’s due.
I’m proud of myself, because while she’s talking, I manage to rein in my emotions at knowing Nina is finally getting the one thing I’ve always wanted. I’m truly happy for her, but I can’t help but feel sadness and jealousy, which only fuels hatred for myself.
After a promise from me to think about coming clean about my problems to my family, and a promise from her to get our mom off my back for a while, we hang up. My legs are wobbly when I stand up, but I lock my knees to hold me up as I make my way to the shower. I glance down at my phone and note the time. Right now is when Nathan would normally be getting here. I have an hour to wait.
I can do this. I can do this. I repeat the mantra in my head over and over again, as I strip down to take a cold shower. I’ve done it before, but I’ve never purposely went this long without having sex with someone. Thanks to Colt, my body is a mixture of confused emotions. On the one hand, the chemicals in my brain makes my body still need the release only a man can give it, but it also revolts at just the thought of another guy touching it. And my heart and mind want nothing to do with another man’s touch. Even the thought is abhorrent to me, and makes the nausea worse. I’m so fucked-up in so many ways, and I haven’t the first clue as to how to get it back on track.
The cold water helps to bring down my higher body temperature, but I force myself to get out before it brings it down too low, before it leaves me a crumbling mess on the floor. The cramps are worse by the time I get out, and my trembling turns into shaking. The nausea is setting in, and I know it won’t be long before I’m incoherent.
I slip on my night shorts and tank top, and force my weak legs to carry me to the bed. The ache between my legs is telling me to leave my apartment and hunt down a willing man to take away the pain. I force the want away, and instead, sit on the bed and pull open my nightstand drawer. Pulling out the bottle of pills that my doctor gave me over a year ago, I notice I’m almost out. The normal dose is one pill, and I’ve been taking three a night. It’s the only thing that helps. It knocks me on my ass, just enough for me to sleep through the pain. I may sleep restlessly, and it’s filled with dreams of Colt taking me, but when I wake in the mornings, the pain is strangely gone for the most part. It lingers, but I’m fully functional.
This has been my reality since last weekend. The pills and Nathan have been the only thing that’s saved me the last few days. I know I should force myself to just go out and find an available man, but every time I even think about it, pain radiates through my chest, leaving me feeling like I’m being stabbed repeatedly. I just can’t do it. I know I’ll have to eventually, but I’m not ready yet. My body and heart still want Colt, even knowing they can’t have him.
I try not to think about what I’m going to do once I run out of the pills. I’ll either be forced to go back to my doctor, or forced to go out and seek relief. I hate even knowing I’m abusing the pills like I am, but I don’t really have a choice at the moment.
I’m becoming a fucking pill popper. I feel disgust at the thought.
My hands shake uncontrollably as I open the water bottle. Dribbles of water slip down my chin when I take a swallow, leaving my tank top wet. Capping the bottle, I set it on the nightstand and crawl in bed until my back meets the headboard. I wrap my arms around my waist and rock back and forth, as time slowly creeps by.
I whimper and moan when the pain gets worse. I clench my jaw when the shakes get so bad my teeth want to chatter. I dig my nails into my thighs when the need to find release tries to take hold. Tears slip down my face when the ache in my center becomes far past unbearable. I squeeze my eyes shut when the pounding in my head becomes so loud, I can’t hear anything but the thump thump thump.
Colt.
I haven’t seen or heard from him in what feels like five lifetimes. He hasn’t tried calling or stopping by. He said he wasn’t giving me up, but it feels like he has. I should be grateful he’s making it easy on me. I’m not sure I could have turned him away if he had shown up during one of my meltdowns. Instead of being relieved he hasn’t tried pushing me, I feel a deep-rooted pain that he, obviously once he’s thought about it, came to the conclusion that it wasn’t worth it after all.