Breaking up with Wes the first time had nearly killed her. She’d struggled when he left for college. She’d lost all her friends in high school. She wasn’t the fun, happy-go-lucky teenage girl anymore. How could she be? Lily was gone, what did they expect? For her to carry on like everything was fine? She hadn’t cared. She had Wes. When he’d been accepted to Penn, he was the one who wanted to try long distance. Abby knew that would never work, not with his classes and a part-time job.
“We need to be on our own,” she’d told him. It was the right thing to do; she knew that. He was never supposed to be hers. Once he was gone, she realized how much she relied on him to help her through the endless days and nights, to calm her when the bad thoughts wormed their way in. Alone and left to her own devices, Abby did whatever it took to numb herself. Booze, drugs, sex, anything to keep from thinking about Lily.
Over the last few years, she’d gotten treatment and had even managed to earn her degree as an LVN. Thanks to her mother’s connections (God bless nepotism) Abby had landed a job at Lancaster General as an LVN in the pediatric department. As far as anyone could tell, she was a functional member of society. Abby hadn’t “moved on” or “gotten over the loss of Lily,” but her life was orderly and structured. And then Wes walked back into it, at the TGI Friday’s of all places. It was a busy Friday night, the after-work crowd and families all vying for a table. She’d been eating dinner with Mom when Wes showed up. Abby wanted to run away, to avoid him, but Mom had told her to stop being ridiculous, and when Wes approached, Mom had invited him to join them. Abby couldn’t believe that he was back in town. The last she’d heard through the gossip mill was that he’d accepted a real estate job in New York City. Abby wanted to know what he was doing here, and Wes explained that his father had gotten prostate cancer and he’d returned home to look after him.
As much as Abby tried not to enjoy their dinner, she couldn’t help herself. He’d always made her laugh, and that night was no different. And he looked so good, tanned and muscular from a summer working construction. But it was the ease in which they interacted that she’d missed the most. With Wes there were no awkward questions or backstory to fill in. Lily lived on in their silences. They could talk about anything. Though to be honest, after that first night, there wasn’t a lot of talking. Abby loved those moments together, naked and weightless, his muscular arms wrapped around her, blotting out everything else.
But as time went on, Abby realized Wes wanted more. She saw the longing in his eyes when he kissed her good-bye. She could hear the neediness in his voice when he’d ask her why she wasn’t staying over or why she’d left so early. She’d had to end things between them before anyone got hurt. He’d fought her because that’s who he was, a stand-up guy. Or maybe he fought her because the idea of losing both her and Lily was too much, even for him. But she’d been adamant—this time, they were done.
Three weeks later, the alien invader made its presence known. Every day for a week, she drove by the Planned Parenthood, trying to convince herself that this was the right choice. She kept telling herself that she didn’t care about the baby or about Wes. He didn’t even have to know. She didn’t want to trap him, and she knew that’s what she’d be doing if she had his child. But in the end, she couldn’t do it. She might be a total asshole in every aspect of her life, but she owed him the truth. She told him over pancakes at the IHOP, and Wes had done exactly what she’d expected.
“Let’s make a go of this. Let’s be a family,” he said. For the first few months, Abby went along with Wes, moving in with him. Playing house, she thought. She’d been overwhelmed with the changes to her body but she’d tried. She’d really tried (and fuck anyone who said she hadn’t). But they constantly fought. Or, as Wes said when he’d packed his bags, “All you do is pick fights.”
He wasn’t wrong. Anything he did seemed to set her off—his tone of voice, his morning breath, his constant monitoring of her nutritional intake. She should have never allowed him to get close. Keeping people away was Abby’s only means of self-preservation, and then she’d gone ahead and screwed it all up.
After Lily vanished, Abby realized that she really didn’t like that many people. Most of them annoyed the hell out of her. They kept on and on about things that meant absolutely nothing. Prom and boys and college and the future. Her past, her present, and her future vanished that dreary Tuesday in September.
“Don’t you see?” she wanted to scream at them. “It’s all so pointless.”
How could any of that crap matter when her sister was out there somewhere? She knew Lily was out there. They were twins. She would know if Lily had died. Abby kept saying over and over again that Lily wasn’t dead, but no one would listen. Not Mom or Dad. Not the half dozen therapists she’d been forced to see.