Chapter 10: Questions no one asked

The bar was louder than Abigail remembered.

Music thumped through the speakers, glasses clinked, and laughter bounced off the walls in uneven waves. She sat at a small round table near the back, fingers wrapped tightly around a half-finished drink she hadn’t touched in ten minutes.

Across from her sat Callie, legs crossed, eyes sharp and observant as always. To Abigail’s left was Marcus, slouched in his chair, nursing a beer. Zoe sat beside him, scrolling through her phone but glancing up more often than she pretended to.

“So,” Callie said, breaking the silence, “you’re smiling again.”

Abigail blinked. “What?”

“You’re smiling,” Callie repeated, tilting her head. “Not right now. I mean… lately.”

Marcus snorted. “Yeah. Like, a lot. It’s weird. No offense.”

Abigail frowned slightly. “Why is that weird?”

Zoe finally looked up from her phone. “Because two weeks ago you cried over a cereal commercial.”

“It was emotional,” Abigail muttered.

“It was cornflakes,” Marcus said.

Callie leaned forward, resting her elbows on the table. “We’re not judging. We’re just… noticing.”

Abigail shifted in her seat. Her phone buzzed softly in her pocket. She didn’t need to check it to know who it was.

James.

“So,” Zoe said slowly, “what changed?”

Abigail hesitated. The words felt fragile, like glass in her mouth. “I met someone.”

That got their attention.

Marcus straightened. “You met someone.”

“Yes.”

“Like,” Callie said carefully, “met met someone?”

Abigail nodded. “Yeah.”

Zoe’s eyebrows shot up. “Since when?”

“Recently.”

“How recently?” Marcus pressed.

Abigail exhaled. “After Lila.”

The table went quiet.

Callie’s expression softened immediately. “Abby…”

“I know how it sounds,” Abigail said quickly. “But it’s not like that. He’s just… he listens. He makes things feel less heavy.”

Zoe exchanged a look with Marcus.

“What’s his name?” Zoe asked.

“James.”

Callie smiled faintly. “James. Okay. That’s normal. James is a normal name.”

Marcus squinted. “Where did you meet him?”

Abigail paused. Just a beat too long.

“On the street,” she said. “We bumped into each other.”

Marcus blinked. “Like… literally?”

“Yes.”

“You bumped into a stranger,” he said slowly, “and now you’re dating him.”

“We’re not—” Abigail stopped herself. “We’re just… seeing each other.”

“How come we haven’t met him?” Zoe asked.

Abigail shrugged. “It hasn’t come up.”

Callie tilted her head again, that familiar look she got when something didn’t quite add up. “You’ve been with him almost every day this week.”

“That doesn’t mean—”

“And yet,” Callie continued gently, “none of us have seen him. Not even once.”

Abigail’s chest tightened. “Why does that matter?”

Marcus raised his hands. “It doesn’t. It’s just… unusual.”

Zoe leaned back in her chair. “Does he have social media?”

Abigail stiffened. “I don’t know.”

“You don’t know?” Zoe repeated.

“He’s not really into that stuff.”

Callie’s voice stayed calm, but her eyes were sharp. “Have you been to his place?”

“No.”

“Met his friends?”

“No.”

“Family?”

“No.”

Marcus let out a low whistle. “That’s… kind of impressive.”

Abigail’s heart started pounding. “Why are you doing this?”

Callie reached across the table, placing her hand over Abigail’s. “Because we care. And because you’ve been through a lot. We just want to make sure you’re okay.”

“I am okay,” Abigail snapped.

The table went quiet again.

Zoe broke the tension first. “Hey. We’re not attacking you. We’re just asking questions.”

“Well, stop,” Abigail said, pulling her hand back. “You’re making it weird.”

Marcus frowned. “If it’s real, questions shouldn’t be a problem.”

Abigail stood abruptly, chair scraping against the floor. “I need air.”

She pushed through the bar crowd, heart racing, fingers already pulling her phone out of her pocket.

Abigail: Are you busy?

The reply came instantly.

James: Never for you. What’s wrong?

Her breath caught.

Abigail: My friends are being… weird.

James: About me?

She hesitated.

Abigail: Yeah.

A pause. Just long enough to notice.

Then:

James: People get uncomfortable when they can’t understand something. Doesn’t mean they’re right.

Abigail leaned against the brick wall outside the bar, the cool air hitting her flushed face.

Abigail: They think it’s strange we met randomly.

James: Strange doesn’t mean wrong.

She swallowed.

Abigail: They want to meet you.

Another pause.

Longer this time.

James: Maybe someday. When you’re ready.

She felt relief flood her chest.

Abigail: I am ready.

James: Then that’s all that matters.

She smiled despite herself.

Behind her, the bar door opened. Callie stepped outside.

“Hey,” she said softly. “I didn’t mean to push.”

Abigail turned, phone still in her hand. “You don’t understand him.”

Callie studied her face. “That’s what scares me.”

Abigail shook her head. “He makes me feel safe. He makes the noise stop.”

Callie’s throat tightened. “Abby… grief can do strange things.”

“So can love,” Abigail shot back.

Callie didn’t respond immediately. Then she said quietly, “Just… promise me something.”

Abigail folded her arms. “What?”

“If something feels off,” Callie said, “you’ll tell us. You won’t shut us out.”

Abigail hesitated.

Then nodded. “I promise.”

Callie nodded back, unconvinced but quiet.

Later that night, alone in her apartment, Abigail lay in bed staring at the ceiling. James’ last message glowed on her phone.

James: I’m here. Always.

She smiled.

And didn’t notice how silent the room felt without him.