Page 110 of Running Home to You
She charged back into the bedroom and chucked a bottle at Abby. “What are these?”
“They’re for my knee.”
“Oh, really? All of those for your knee? Your surgery was almost a year ago.”
“Yeah, and the doctor isn’t sure that it took.” Abby’s brow hardened. “Why are you going through my things?”
“Are you hooked on that crap?”
“No!”
“Those are all from different doctors! I’m not an idiot!”
“Why do you care?” Abby shouted.
“Because I love you!”
Kate threw another bottle at her, and Abby narrowly dodged it. She reached for her, but Kate put her hands up to keep her at bay. The tears burst out of her. The cry of being together and apart all at once. Of Abby falling further from her grasp, somewhere she couldn’t follow, no longer the one who could help her.
“Don’t you break my heart twice, Abby,” she whimpered. “Don’t you do something stupid. Do you understand me?”
Abby nodded. She eased to Kate again and this time she let her, sniffling into her arms when they embraced.
“It’s okay,” Abby whispered. “I’m okay.”
“No, it’s not. You’re not.”
Abby squeezed tighter, her words wobbling. “I love you too. I promise I’ll be good,” she said. “You don’t need to worry.”
But she worried all the way to the airport. They shared a ride and held hands in the back seat. She gripped on, scared that when she let go, Abby would be lost to her. When they parted at security, she nearly wept again, but kept firm, returning to the person she didn’t recognize in the mirror. The one who loved Ryan and didn’t need Abby anymore.
“You still hate flying?” Abby asked her as they lingered across from each other, motionless in the bustle of travelers.
“You know I prefer my feet on the ground,” Kate said. “I guess I’ll see you at the wedding.”
“Yeah. Looking forward to it.” Abby strained with a painful smirk.
Kate laughed. “No, you’re not.”
“Yeah, I’m not.” Abby chuckled and hugged her. “What happens in Vegas, right?”
“Right.” Kate’s throat tightened at their release.
Abby tilted her head. “Listen, I still—”
“Don’t.”
“Okay.” Abby grabbed her hand and pecked the top of it. “Get home safe.”
“You too.”
They merged into their separate streams of people. Kate strode against her desire, glanced over her shoulder for a last glimpse of Abby, and frowned when she didn’t spot her. She exhaled, weaving through newsstands and travelers, internally listing the many reasons to move forward.
“Kate!” Abby’s footsteps pounded behind her.
“You’re going to miss your flight—”
Abby folded her in her arms and stopped short of a kiss. Their foreheads met in another flood of memory. The car at the mouth of the driveway. Eyes closed, lips never touching.
