“How could I not?”
Since their breakup, Blythe had been posting about it. Women rushed to comfort her and wipe her tears. Fuck her tears. She broke up with Abby, but the way she milked the sympathy made it seem as if Abby had done the deed.
Abby swallowed back the bile rising in her throat. For the past week, Abby had wrestled with her own culpability. Yes, it was Blythe who’d ended it, but could Abby blame her? As hard as Abby had tried to hide how devastated she was that Ricki didn’t want to be around her, she feared she’d failed, and Blythe had seen how much it hurt.
The night Blythe broke up with her, she cried herself to sleep. But it hadn’t been the first time. What she’d not told anyone, not even Madeline, was after saying goodbye to Ricki, she’d cried herself to sleep that night and every night since. Blythe furthered her heartbreak, dashing any hope that the three of them could work it out. Just like that, Blythe and Ricki were gone forever.
“Well, I think it’s pretty low.”
With all the thoughts rushing through Abby’s mind, she paused to comprehend Madeline’s words. “No, it’s what they do. I knew it going in. Remember when we were stalking her and found her posts about other women she’d broken up with?”
“Well, I didn’t expect her to do it to you.” Madeline balled up her fists. “I’ll smack her if I ever see her again.”
Abby laughed. “I love you. Thanks for being a true friend. Willing to defend me no matter what.”
“Always,” Madeline said. “Are you sure you don’t want to come to St. Louis? It’ll be fun.”
“No. You go on.”
“You don’t mind that I’m leaving early?”
“No.” Abby picked up a spreadsheet from her desk. “I’m going to analyze the circulation numbers from last quarter.”
“Woo-hoo. See, I told you that you’re not boring.”
Abby laughed. “Get the hell out of here.”
After Madeline left, Abby stayed holed up in her office. She didn’t have the strength to deal with the patrons. She’d tried to focus on the circulation numbers, but she couldn’t. When she’d finally given up, she made the masochistic choice to check TikTok.
Big mistake.Seeing all the women fawning over Blythe was nauseating. She couldn’t help but wonder when the next one would be hanging out with Blythe at Ricki’s house. Would Ricki be able to spend over two hours with the next one? Abby’s chest tightened. Or would they end up in another threesome?
Abby shook her head. She couldn’t imagine either would make that mistake again. She slammed her phone onto her desk. This wasn’t healthy, nor should she be scrolling through TikTok at work.
Abruptly, she stood. She was a librarian, damn it. Her self-pity was getting annoying. It was time she stopped and did librarian things. She couldn’t help laughing at how ridiculous that sounded in her head.
The library closed soon, so she could handle interacting with the few patrons who remained. She straightened the bun in her hair and strode out her office door.
A handful of people browsed the shelves, and Mr. Timmons was at the computer. Abby approached the circulation desk, where one of the part-time college students was manning it. Not wanting to make small talk for the next half hour, Abby told her she could leave early. The girl grabbed her purse and was out the door. Abby couldn’t blame her. It was Friday night.
A loud thunderclap split the air.Perfect.The weather matched her mood.
For the next thirty minutes, Abby stayed busy, checking out patrons and reshelving returns. She’d given Mr. Timmons a fifteen-minute warning, a ten, and a five, but he still sat at the computer. Everyone else had left, and the thunder and lightning had grown fiercer.
“Mr. Timmons, I’m afraid I have to close up shop.”
He looked up at her and nodded. With an unsteady hand, he grabbed his cane.
“Did you bring your umbrella?” she asked.
“I didn’t think it was supposed to rain.”
“We’ve got an umbrella under the circulation desk. Are you parked out front?”
He grinned. “Yep. I got my placard last month.”
Good.That meant she wouldn’t get completely drenched getting him to his car. Though as shitty as she felt, getting hit with a deluge would be apropos.
She’d been right. Despite the driving rain, she’d gotten Mr. Timmons to his car while remaining mostly dry. She hurried back inside the library and closed and locked the door. The week was over. Now she had a long weekend of wallowing in her future.
