#kabby flashb

[charmingly-evil]

LADIES AND GENTLEMAN IT IS FINALLY HERE!!!!! Enjoy and please leave me your thoughts. I put a lot of effort and energy into this chapter, and it took a lot for me to overcome my fears of screwing it up to write, and my writing has been super rusty, so I would really love your thoughts dear kabby fandom. xoxo 

Public Affairs: Also available here on archiv (which I suggest since tumblr text format kind of screws up the text here). Credit for the stunning collage goes to tinyabbygriffi (which I’m using instead of mine because she somehow got Apikaira into it!) 

Chapter Six: Fearless 

A metallic smart phone fell onto Abby's lap with a small thump, startling her from her paperwork.

“Call him Mom.”

Abby lifted her head up, her eyes blossoming with surprise when she saw Clarke.

“Marcus,” Clarke clarified before Abby could finish. “Call him.”

Abby repressed a heavy sigh and placed the phone on her desk. Pushing her computer chair back, she spun around so she could give her daughter her full attention. Clarke made herself comfortable on her Mom's leather couch, sitting cross legged with her leather-shoulder bag in her lap. She blinked back up at her expectantly. It brought back sudden memories of a younger Clarke who used to race into the office and jump onto her couch after school, bouncing excitedly cross-legged on her couch as she would hurriedly tell Abby about her day at school, the words streaming out of her flying mouth like a school of chased fish.

But Clarke had barely said two words to Abby this week, just days after they got back from their trip with Marcus a week ago, let alone come by Abby's office to chat. Even now, Clarke's tone with Abby was chilly, and her eyes were unforgivingly cold.

It crushed her heart, and Abby wondered if her daughter was trying to punish her.

Abby replied patiently, “Clarke, I'm not going to call him.”

Clarke's eyes flared. “And why not?” She unfolded her legs and sat forward, her tone rising with the flush in her cheeks. “You can't just do this to him. Have someone propose to you and then ignore them for a week. That's not how it works.”

Abby's eyes snapped up at the mention of the proposal, her teeth clenching, with apprehension or outrage, Abby wasn't even sure anymore. “Marcus told you?”

“Of course not. But he hasn't been the same since we left Hill Inlet last week, and well, neither have you. I saw him yesterday and managed to piece it together and get it out of him. Mom, what are you thinking?” Clarke stopped, her tone softening when she saw Abby's eyes sadden at her sharp tone. “Mom, please. He misses you. This silence between you guys is killing him.”

Abby's eyes fell to her lap and she whispered, “I know.”

Lord knows it was killing her too.                      

“But it doesn't have to be like that.”

Abby rested her elbows on her knees, her fingers coming to massage her temple. “Clarke...you don't understand. Sometimes...sometimes adults make bad decisions, regrettable, unforgivable choices. And sometimes we can't predict the damage that we can make...” Abby took in a rattling breath, closing her eyes. “And I don't know how to fix this.”

Then Abby felt a soft hand squeezing her shoulder, and looked up to see her daughter's weak smile. Clarke picked up the mobile and placed it in her hand.

Gently, Clarke said “You can start by calling him.”

Abby wrapped her fingers around the phone. The Samsung felt cool in her hand, yet heavy like a limp fish, heavy with the weight of the conversation that lay ahead of her, one that she had been ignoring for too long now. Of course, the endless stream of patients admitted into the hospital kept her busy, but Abby always knew that in the back of her mind, sooner or later, this affair would catch up to her.

Abby hadn't even processed her daughter's discovery of their affair, news that was surely too heavy for a fourteen-year-old girl to comprehend. But Clarke had never been like other girls. She always had a special ability to shoulder on the weight of everyone's problems and power through them with a fierce determination. Jake's death. Marcus's disappearance. Abby's marriage to Thelonious.

Marcus used to say that she got her strength from her Mother.

Abby met Clarke's eyes, grateful for her daughter's compassion and surprising maturity, but apprehensive nonetheless. “How am I supposed to tell Marcus that I can't marry him?”

Abby watched Clarke's eyes fall, shooting a stab of guilt into her heart. She wondered if Clarke had been hoping that Abby would say yes to Marcus's proposal, or that his proposal would at least knock some sense into Abby and encourage her to end her engagement.

“Why are you doing this to yourself?” Clarke finally asked, her features crumpling with bewilderment and pity. “You're clearly not happy with Thelonious. You two have barely been able to look each other in the eye, let alone go through with this marriage. You won't eat meals together, you barely say a word to each other and when you're not avoiding each other, you're arguing. It's like a blizzard at home.”

“Clarke-”

“Marcus loves you,” Clarke insisted, her eyes pleading with hers. “And I know you do too. I know that you're scared that he's going to leave you again, but if that's what's holding you back, then you have to tell him.”

Abby swallowed, the pang in her heart expanding throughout her chest and sinking to her stomach.

How could she tell Clarke why she didn't want to be with Marcus, when she didn't understand it herself?

Maybe Abby was in love with Marcus. There was a time when she had lost all meaning of the word, until that day in the caves with Marcus, when he had brought back all the meaning and hope that that word had carried, like a flood of light chasing away the darkness. It was a feeling Abby had said goodbye to long ago when she had agreed to marry Thelonious. Thelonious, who was the polar opposite to Marcus in almost every way. Thelonious, who would scoff at Marcus's carefree and unconventional lifestyle choices, and frown at his reckless and spontaneous behavior.

Thelonious, who sheltered Abby when Marcus had left them all that day to pick up the pieces after Jake’s death, and grieve without him.

Maybe that's why Abby was choosing Thelonious, because whilst her heart ached for Marcus, Abby feared that she needed stability and routine. She feared that she needed a stable marriage and a job and a full savings account to send Clarke off to college and invest in their property and one day, retire. Abby feared that she needed that more than the warm buzz that bloomed in her heart whenever Marcus mentioned her name and stared at her as if she was a work of art. She feared that she needed it more than the salty air and breathless adventures that a life on the ocean could give her, and certainly more than an impulsive proposal from a man who had abandoned her so many years ago.

But maybe it wasn't that Abby needed stability and routine more than all of that.

Maybe it was that she was too scared to let it all go for a chance at love again.

“Mom, if you don't tell him then I'm afraid that he's going to leave.”

Abby's heart skipped a beat, her eyes snapping up urgently. “Leave? Did he say something to you?”

“Not really, but-” Clarke lifted her shoulder up in a shrug, her eyes saddening. “Do you really think that he's going to want to stay here and watch you marry Thelonious? Especially since you won't say a word to him? I mean,” she hesitated, meeting her eyes seriously. “Could you really blame him if he left again?”

…

Seven years ago…

There were two times when Abby had been rushed to hospital to tend to her family.

The first time was last year, when Abby had followed the cries of her wailing daughter and found her sitting in the living room amongst her crayons and scrapbooks, a pair of blood-stained scissors laying by her side and a flap of skin hanging off her thumb. The second time was when Jake had decided to renovate their backyard with a stylish deck. Her husband had only started on the project when he had stepped on a nail sticking out from a wooden plank. The nail had slid right through his rubber flip flop, leading them the fastest trip to the hospital that Abby had ever taken, a tetanus shot and an oath from Abby that she wouldn’t tell a soul just how much her husband had cried out during his shot.

But Abby didn't think that she would one day have to tend to Marcus too.

It was a Sunday morning, Raven had taken Clarke out to the beach, and Abby and Jake were settling in front of their television with a bucket of popcorn between them, when Abby's phone buzzed to life. She saw Marcus's name and answered it instantly.

“Ah, Abby, I made need your help. I ah - had a bit of an accident.”

His tone was calm, but Abby could tell from the way he spoke in-between heaving breaths that he was in pain.

Fortunately, Marcus didn't live far away. Within ten minutes, Abby had pulled up outside his house and let herself in (Marcus never worried about locking the doors when he was at home, shrugging off Abby's concerns about a robbery with a, “Well if anyone ever breaks in to steal something, I may get up and go looking with them.”)

Abby stepped out into the backyard, panic stunning her features when she saw Marcus. He was leaning back against the side of his house, his face twisted in excruciating pain, and a fallen ladder lying next to him. Abby couldn't help but quickly assess just how long that ladder was and how far Marcus had fallen.

She hurried over and knelt down to his side. “My God Marcus, what happened?”

He gestured to the ladder with a weak smile. “I think it's obvious. I fell.”

Abby repressed an eye roll. “Clearly. But what were you doing up there in the first place?”

Marcus shifted his weight and tried to sit up, cringing and inhaling sharply with pain as he did so. “I was installing the new solar panels, but the ladder mustn't have been stable enough. It wobbled, and I tried to get back down before it collapsed, and I wasn't quick enough.”

Abby chewed her lip anxiously at the thought of Marcus falling so high. She asked, “Where does it hurt the most?”

Just as her fingers went to assess his knee Marcus cried out, gritting his teeth. “Right there. I landed on my side, but my leg took most of the fall.”

More gently this time, Abby continued to assess his leg, pressing and prodding as carefully as she could. Occasionally, she would ask 'Is it sore here?' 'Does it feel tender here?' She felt his flesh through the material of his jeans, relieved that she couldn't feel too much swelling.

Finally, Abby finished and withdrew. “Well I don't think it's broken, maybe just a ruptured tendon. You were lucky.” Still, Abby couldn't help but shake her head and huff, “I still don't know what the hell you were thinking.” Seeing his perplexed stare, she chided, “You climbed a ten-foot ladder that barely looks like it can stand by itself, let alone hold your weight, without anyone holding it. Of course you would fall. It was reckless Marcus, you could have gotten yourself killed.”

Marcus, a little taken back at the comment, glanced at the ladder (it looked fine to him) and replied, “It was just a ladder Abby, how was I supposed-”

“It was an unstable ladder,” Abby fired back. “You could have borrowed a ladder from us, or asked Jake to help you with the installations, or better, do what most of us do and hire a technician. Because I don't know how you thought you were going to install those giant panels alone.”

Marcus parted his lips to point out just how ridiculous she was being, that he was more than capable of installing the solar panels by himself and that this fall could have happened to anyone. Then he noticed the distress shadowing her eyes, and the sudden sharpness of her breaths.

Abby was scared.

Then suddenly it wasn't just about Marcus's fall.

It was about the time Marcus had told Abby that he would be going out sailing amidst the stormy ocean waves to take photos of the lightening, always enthralled by the flashing branches of stormy-light that sliced through the darkness. Then Marcus had returned to shore from his trip, and back to two hysterical “Marcus, you've been gone for an hour and the storm's worsening, please call me” voice-mails from Abby. Or it was about the time when Marcus had given Abby a near heart attack diving too close to the shark infested waters, or driving too close to the edge of the mountains because he was captured by the view, or any other reckless activity that had endangered his life.

It wasn't about Marcus's fall at all. It was about every other time Marcus had almost gotten himself killed.

So Marcus swallowed back his pride and replied, “I-I guess I wasn't thinking?”

Abby blinked, once, twice, clearly not expecting this answer. She took a steady breath, composure washing away her anxieties. Quietly, she said “No... maybe you weren’t.” She hesitated, then “I'll get Jake to drop the ladder off for you tomorrow, so I don't get a heart attack next time you call me because you were too lazy to purchase a stable ladder.”

Marcus's eyes lit up for a fraction, his lips tugging into the tiniest of smiles at the thought of Abby worrying about him so much. He raised an eyebrow and asked, “You really got a heart attack when I called?”

Then to his surprise, Abby gave a small shrug and truthfully responded, “I was terrified Marcus.” She stopped mid breath, as if she was going to continue, but decided against it. Instead Abby gestured to his leg. “Will you be able to walk? I want to get you to the hospital to run some more scans. You may have internal injuries.”

Marcus didn't even argue with her. He just smiled and responded, “Of course Dr. Griffin.”

Abby bit her lip, and fought back the smile spreading across her features.

With enough patience and strength, and many sharp gasps and painful grunts from Marcus, Abby got him up and into her car. They were at the hospital within minutes, and Marcus was being escorted by Niko to get some tests done, whilst Abby waited outside with Marcus's belongings.

Abby tried not to mentally replay the scenarios of Marcus falling over ��� how long was the ladder? Eight feet long? Nine feet long? Ten feet long? Ten feet fall? - or the possible outcomes that could have happened – concussion, broken bones, back injury, spine injury, nerve damage, paralysis, death – and decided to direct her attention to something more productive. Abby unlocked Marcus's phone (she had left her mobile at home amidst her frantic hurry to get to Marcus, and wanted to call Jake to let him know what happened). Then to her surprise, it wasn't a photo of the sunset or a storm flashing above the ocean that greeted her on Marcus's home screen.

It was her.

The iPhone was paused on a video, footage that had captured a close-up of Abby's face. She was caught in the middle of a laugh, little wrinkles outlining the smiles around her bright eyes. Curiously, Abby played the video. She recognized where the footage was taken immediately. It was at Clarke's sixth birthday party, and Abby vaguely remembered asking Marcus to record some videos of them since she couldn't find her phone (lost through the chaos of party decorations, wrapping paper and guests), and Jake was too busy cooking up the food and entertaining the adults and kids to film a video.

Yet as Abby watched the video, there seemed to be little footage of Clarke's actual birthday. Certainly, there was a lot of footage of Clarke; Clarke singing happy birthday and blowing out the candles, sword fighting with her friends, and blowing raspberries into the camera as she got her faced painted. But none of the actual birthday party.

Instead, there was a lot of Abby Griffin.

Abby dressing up with Clarke and braiding Octavia's hair, Abby poking out her tongue into the camera as Raven attached a tiara onto her hair, Abby alternating between singing happy birthday with a silly grin and attacking Clarke with kisses, and Abby dancing. So much of her dancing. Dancing with Clarke and the other kids. Then later on spinning around and swaying her hips with a glass of wine in hand, before she finally noticed Marcus filming her and called for him to “Put the camera down and come join me!” Then she laughed like a bottle of rosé champagne, bubbly, warm and pink all over, and pulled him towards her. The screen shook as the camera was pulled forward. The footage ended.

The door swung open and Abby instantly locked the phone, chucking it back onto her lap. She felt guilty, as if she had seen something that she wasn't supposed too. As if she had discovered a dirty secret.

“Good news, no broken bones.”

Abby snapped her head up to see Niko exiting, his eyes examining Marcus's MRI scans. “He's torn his quadriceps tendons, but that should heal within a few months. There are no internal injuries, so given his fall I'd say he's lucky.” Niko stopped and turned to Marcus who came hobbling out of the room with his crutches, his left leg bound in a cast. “You should be able to make a full recovery within less than three months, but you will need to take time off work though. Do you have insurance?”

Marcus nodded “Sinclair should give me compensation while I have time off.” He turned back to Abby, assessing her reaction to the news and his cast. He raised his eyebrows at her. “No broken bones or acute damage. What do you think Dr. Griffin?

Abby pursed her lips as she handed him back his belongings. “I think I'll breathe easier once you're back at home and I've locked you inside to make sure you rest those injuries.”

Abby knew that Marcus hated staying indoors for too long, but she would fight him on this one. Marcus however, seemed compliant for now, if not a little amused at her fretting over him.  

Abby wondered if she should tell Marcus just how scared she was when she saw him on the ground before, or even when she heard the pain in his voice when he had called her.

Then Abby wondered if she should mention the video. Why was he watching the video today? Why was there so much footage of her? Did he record her all day during Clarke’s birthday? Maybe Jake was right, and sometimes she could be a bit self-absorbed and this was a perceptual misjudgment on her part.

Still, although Abby didn't question him, for the rest of the day Abby couldn't stop thinking about the video and why it made her feel so guilty.

…

Present day…

“Dr. Griffin, I have your fiancé here to see you.”

Abby's and Clarke's eyes snapped up simultaneously. Clarke cast her Mother a questioning look, but Abby looked just as confused. Since Abby and Thelonious got engaged, Thelonious had stopped coming to visit her at work. Abby assumed that her fiancé didn't see the point in trying to woo her anymore, and any romance that had existed between them had fizzled out with age.

Abby hit the answer button on her intercom and replied, “Thank you Niylah, but tell Thelonious that I'm busy attending to a patient.”

She heard a rustle in the background, and her receptionist relaying her message back. Then, “I'm sorry Dr. Griffin, but Mr. Jaha is insisting that it's urgent.” Niylah lowered her tone and hushed, “Abby, he has some lady here with him and she doesn't look like she wants to leave. And frankly, she's starting to give me the chills. Can I please send them up?”

Abby clenched her jaw, feeling a flood of anger and frustration begin to rise within her chest. Nonetheless, Abby relieved her receptionist with a, “Fine. Send them up.”

“What is he doing here? And with Allie too? Weren’t they supposed to be attending another media publicity stunt today?” Clarke asked, equally annoyed.

Abby shook her head. “I wish I could tell you Clarke, but I honestly don't know.”

Abby handed Clarke back her mobile phone. For now, her conversation with Marcus would have to wait.

The door swung open and Allie walked inside, followed by Thelonious. Allie's eyes briefly swept across room, stopping to linger on Clarke before settling her attention on Abby. Allie clasped her hands together and spoke in her usual cool and collected manner. “Hello Abby. Clarke.”

There was always something chilling about Allie, perhaps it was her eyes, expressionless and yet calculating at the same time, almost robotic. Abby didn't blame her receptionist for wanting to banish Allie out of her sight. Despite this, Abby didn't feel fear or intimidation, only rage, like hot, blistering tar expanding inside her chest.

“Thelonious, what the hell is going on? What is so urgent that you have to interrupt me at work?”

“Well it hardly seems like you were working, Clarke is here.” Allie pointed out, as if correcting a child.

Abby looked like she could strangle Allie. Clarke did too.

Sensing the stormy cloud brewing between the two women, Thelonious stepped between them and spoke quickly. “Abby, we're sorry. But we wouldn't be here unless it was urgent.” He hesitated, glancing at Clarke. “Clarke, could you give us a moment with your Mother?”

“No,” Clarke immediately fired back, stepping closer to her Mom. She shifted her gaze between Thelonious and Allie suspiciously. She too, had always gotten a bad vibe from Allie's presence. “I'm not going anywhere. What you can say to my Mom you can say to me.”

“Clarke please.” It was Abby who spoke this time, turning to her daughter. “Let me talk to them for a minute, okay? I'll see you back at home.”

Clarke narrowed her eyes, her features scrunching up with fury, as if she was preparing to protest. In the end, it was Abby's stern look that made up Clarke's mind. So with one last filthy glance at the adults, Clarke picked up her bag and stormed out of the room, slamming the door behind her.

Abby lifted her eyes back up to her partner. “You have my attention now. What is it?”

But it was Allie who spoke with the upward-tilt of her head. “We need you to attend the media conference today.”

Abby almost choked. “Media conference? That's why the two of you are here?” Abby turned to her fiancé. “I told you Thelonious, I will support you with your candidacy, but I am not going to attend your PR events. That's for you and your campaign manager, but I have a full-time job here.”

Allie walked across the room and perched herself on Abby's desk, her clasped hands coming to rest on her lap in a business-like way. “Abby, the election polls have come out today. Thelonious was leading by fifteen percent when he first announced his candidacy, but now he's only leading by fifty-two to forty-eight. I ran some analysis on the recent polls and our city’s demographics, and found that he's lost support from family voters, particularly working-class caregivers.”

Abby shifted her gaze back and forth between the two of them, still confused. “I don’t understand. So, introduce some policies that will appeal to working families then, subsidies childcare services for working mothers or invest in new infrastructure for the kids. What has this got to do with me?”

But Allie shook her head, her eyes seeking Thelonious's for confirmation as she spoke, “Thelonious has already promised to invest in more community services for our youth, and help produce more flexible jobs that can cater towards working parents. His policies aren't the problem. His problem Abby, is the two of you.”

“What does that mean?”

“Abby, Australian families are struggling to relate to us,” Thelonious explained simply. “They see their leader as being a family person, someone who understands family values and is prepared to uphold them and support what the everyday family needs. And David Miller? The people think he has that. His wife and his son are by his side during every media conference and public debate forum, whereas the entire town barely knows that we're engaged. To them, you're still Jake Griffin's widow and single Mother of Clarke, and I’m still the doctor that lost his son ten years ago. We've lost touch with family voters.”

Abby did not look pleased. “Thelonious, Alison Miller does not have a full-time job. Alison Miller did not have to raise her child single-handedly for half of their life. And I made it very clear from the beginning that I will not drag Clarke into this. She wants to stay out of it, and I will support her decision, as I expect you to do too. If it's a family man the public wants, then you'll have to persuade them that you share those values yourself.”

Thelonious's eyes hardened, clearly not expecting this answer. “That's funny, because you always seem to have time to spare for Marcus. How long were you away for last week? Twelve hours? And what about when we first arrived here and you spent more than a day on his yacht? Yet you can't even attend a single public relations event with me.”

Abby's eyes flamed with fury. “Now you're tracking me? And what has this got to do with Marcus? It's none of your business what I choose to spend my time on or who I spend it with.”

Thelonious stepped forward, his tone rising with anger. “Abby, you said that you would support my campaign, and I expected you to keep your word.”

“I said that I would let you operate your campaign in our house and pick up the extra duties around so you could invest your time in your career. But I am not prepared to drop my career so I can stand by your side at every media conference you speak at and play happy family just to persuade the public to vote for you.”

“” Allie began, sitting forward. “You may not have to attend all of Thelonious's public relations campaigns. Given Thelonious's overwhelmingly low support from working class families, and shockingly, emerging families, it may not be enough to have you and Clarke showcase your support for Thelonious during his campaigns. Besides, I question how helpful Clarke's support to our campaign would be anyway.”

Abby ignored Allie's comment about her daughter, and pointedly asked, “Fine, then what do you want?”

Allie smiled, and responded simply, “We need you and Thelonious to attend just today’s media conference, and announce that you will be expecting.”

Abby raised her eyebrows. “Expecting?”

“Yes. Expecting a child.”

Abby choked. Her eyes bulged with shock and disbelief, shifting her gaze between Allie and Thelonious. “You cannot be serious.”

“Sixty-two percent of people do not vote rationally Abby, they vote with their emotions,” Allie articulated, as if teaching a student. “They vote for who they can trust. And one can always trust a man who is willing to support his wife and their new child, it shows commitment to family and commitment to his people. It shows unity. And more importantly, this will give Thelonious a mode to discuss the issues that emerging families face in the current economic environment, and how he is the man that can fix it.”

Abby was flabbergasted. Yet Allie still sat there, blinking at Abby's stunned gaze, calm and collected as she waited for her response. Sick of hearing anymore of Allie’s insanity, Abby spun around to Thelonious, pointing out “You've been silent during all of this. Surely you think that this is insane?”

Thelonious had indeed been quiet, choosing to retreat back behind Allie, hidden by her shadow. He lifted his eyes up and quietly said, “Actually, I think it's perfect.”

Abby snorted, barely containing a ‘ha!’ “Perfect, except for the fact that I am not pregnant. I knew you could be mad sometimes Thelonious, but I didn't think you had lost your mind.”

“You're not pregnant now,” Allie spoke carefully again, staring pointedly at Abby. “But we still have time. Based on what Thelonious has told me, you should be able to conceive by the next week.”

Abby's jaw dropped, her eyes shooting fire at Thelonious (she was always grumpier during her period, and suffered from pounding migraines and cramps that she never bothered to keep quiet about at home, but had Thelonious lost his mind to tell Allie this?)

“If you can conceive within the next week,” Allie continued, as if oblivious to the tension between the couple. “Then we can announce your pregnancy today.”

Abby was shaking her head. “This is ridiculous. Both of you have lost your minds.”

“Why?” Thelonious asked sharply. “Is it that hard to comprehend the thought of sleeping with me Abby? Lord knows that you haven't been intimate with me in years. You haven't been able to touch me since we arrived here.”

Abby's cheeks flushed with rage, the volcanic tar pit of rage spitting and rising within her. She snapped, “Well maybe I had good reason to Thelonious, since I found out that you've been lying to me since we got here. And I am not going to discuss our sex life with your campaign manager in the room.”

Allie didn't even bat an eye. Instead she just turned to Thelonious and said wisely, “I told you that we shouldn't have told her beforehand. Announcing the pregnancy today without Abby's knowing would have been more successful.”

Abby raised her eyebrows. “What? And you thought that I was just going to play along with this bullshit story in front of the cameras?”

“Most likely you would have been in shock, so yes. I doubt you would have said anything.”

“Abby please,” Thelonious pleaded again, his tone softening. “Just listen to me-”

“I am not doing this in front of her,” Abby snapped, waving to Allie.

Taking her cue, Allie bowed her head and with one last flickering gaze towards Thelonious, she left the room.

As soon as the door shut Abby started again. “Thelonious before you speak, no. Absolutely not. I am not going to conceive a child with you just so you can win some votes. You must have lost every braincell of yours to even think that I would be open to this insanity!”

“Funny Abby, that you won't even screw your partner for a child, but you'll happily screw his best friend.”

Abby's breath stopped short.

Thelonious sneered. “You didn't think I knew? How long did you think that you could keep on screwing Marcus behind my back?”

Abby’s heart hammered in her chest, each accelerating boom of her heart like a battering ram pounding against the Trojan Gates of her chest, thumping to the millions of 'hows' and 'whys' that raced through her mind, too many for Abby to make sense of. Clamping her mouth shut, Abby replied “And why didn't you say anything before?”

“Because I was hoping that you would come to me and confess your affair, and that it wouldn't have to come to this.”

Abby knew that she shouldn't ask, but she needed to know. Taking a brave breath, she managed to utter a, “How?”

Thelonious pulled out his phone from his pocket and unlocked it, placing it on the desk. Abby approached it, her eyes widening with horror when she saw all of the pictures on the screen. Pictures of her and Marcus. Marcus holding her up against the wheel of his yacht and kissing her senseless, Marcus and Abby making out under-stars, and Abby pinning Marcus onto the beach of Hill Inlet, her face elated with happiness.

Abby clutched the edge of her desk for support. She felt like she was going to throw up. She could barely breathe out the “Oh my god,” that was circling her mind. Finally, she exclaimed, “You were stalking me since we got here?”

“I was in contact with Allie before we arrived here. When you ran off on that first day I was worried sick, you weren't answering my calls and I didn't know where the hell you were. I was going to contact the police when Allie had noticed my distress that evening and offered to look for you. Nonetheless Clarke later called me and told me where you were. Then Allie sent me that photo of you and Marcus on the yacht just after you returned, and I knew.”

Abby shook her head, taking a step away from her fiancé. “You knew...you knew from the beginning-”

“I was accepting of it Abby, honestly. I was angry, of course, outraged, but I understood. You and Marcus clearly had history, and returning here could have, as you say, rekindled some old flames between the two of you. Nonetheless, when you came home that morning looking guilty and distraught, I hoped that that would be the last of it. Still, when Allie offered to keep an eye on you, I took her up on that offer.”

“This is sick,” Abby whispered. “You're sick-”

“And it didn't end after that evening on the yacht, did it? During the cocktail party and your rendezvous at Hill Inlet you continued your affair. Abby, you lied to me. Cheated on me.” Thelonious stepped towards her with each sentence, like a predator approaching its prey, and Abby stumbled back. “You betrayed me, and this affair ends now. Do you understand?”

Abby shook her head, her fingers digging into hands, nails scarring crescents into her palms. “No Thelonious, no. You can't honestly believe that I'm still going to marry you when-when, you knew all along-” Abby stopped, trying to collect her words together, her heart plummeting in her chest as if she was falling a hundred feet down. “It's sick Thelonious, sick! You lied to me, then you stalked me, then you pretended like you knew nothing when you did. It's insanity!”

Thelonious took a steady breath, his eyes studying Abby. “Maybe to you. But at least I know now that I can't trust you. Clearly, you're too involved with Marcus that it doesn't look like you'll end this affair yourself. Fortunately, you won't need too.”

Abby's heart skipped a precious beat, her blood pounding in her ears. “What do you mean?”

Thelonious pulled out Abby's iPhone, toying with the device as if it was a prized antique. “You have always been careless with your phone. I used to wonder why you bothered owning one when you never answer your calls, and use the land line or Clarke's mobile half the time when you need to make a call. You didn't even know it was missing, did you?”

As soon as he had pulled out her phone Abby's hand had shot into her bag, and just like she knew in the back of her head, her phone was missing.

“How else could I have known that Marcus was with you during the charity benefit?”

Memories of the night of the cocktail-charity benefit flashed through Abby's mind.

Marcus's phone buzzing by his side. Abby, still breathless and dizzy with desire, sitting up underneath the stars and staring at Marcus with confusion as he answered the anonymous number. Then he turned to her with equal confusion, uttering “How did Thelonious get my number?”

Abby snapped her head back up, a mix of caution and apprehension consuming her features. “Thelonious, why do you have my phone now?”

Thelonious passed the device to her. “To do what you couldn't do.”

Abby read the text message on her screen, and her world slowly fell apart.

Marcus, we can't keep on doing this anymore. It's wrong, and you know that. I'm sorry that I let it get this far, but...it needs to stop. It's not fair to Thelonious and it's not fair to you, and I hope you understand. These past few weeks for me were a...distraction, a distraction from everything. And maybe it was wrong of me to use you like that, but there it is. I don't love you Marcus, and I hope you understand.

Sent, 12:00pm today.

Next to it were five missing calls from Marcus himself. Abby almost dropped the phone, slowly breaking inside.

Thelonious pocketed his own mobile. “Abby, forget about it. It's done. I wouldn't even be surprised if he was on the plane heading out of this country already. You know how the man liked to run away from his grief.”

“No.”

Thelonious startled. Abby glared at him through glassy eyes. “No. I'm not letting that happen.”

She grabbed her phone and her handbag and spun around to run to the door, done with this conversation, done with Thelonious, done with the lies and secrets and betrayal. Thelonious grabbed her wrist, yanking her back. Abby cried out and struggled against his firm grip.

“Abby stop, it's done.” Thelonious fought against her violent struggles, yelling in between breathless cries, “Abby, your life, your family, is here with me.”

The volcanic anger within her chest erupted and Abby cried out, kicking Thelonious from behind. He yelped and let go. Abby ran. She just opened the door when she felt Thelonious pulling her wrist back once more, bellowing “Abby stay here, you are my wife!”

Abby yanked her arm away and whirled around, her features twisted with rage. “Not today.”

Then she yanked off her engagement ring, threw it on the ground and fled.

Not today. Not ever again.

...