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Chapter Four
~Abigail~
As I got ready for my date with Mark, I wondered for the hundredth time why I was even going.
I’d thought I was over any romantic feelings I had for Cyrus. But last night when he brought up our marriage pact, my heart had constricted in my chest.
Did I remember?
How could I ever forget?
The pact had kind of been a test. To my adolescent brained self, throwing out the concept of marriage to a high school boy seemed like a surefire way to see if he was interested in me.
His response of ‘yeah, sure, whatever,’ had not been the declaration of love I’d been hoping for. But I’d kept that almost-agreement in my heart since that day.
But time passed, we never broke out of our friendship box, and I finally realized that I was going to have to move on. He didn’t want me in that way. And I’d thought the pact had been forgotten.
By him anyway.
But he’d brought it up last night and suddenly my world shifted. If he remembered, was he interested in holding up the bargain? He was already twenty-five, and my birthday was just a few weeks away. Could he have been considering calling in the agreement?
The sick, sad truth was that I would marry him in a heartbeat. I’d loved him forever and he was my very best friend. I could absolutely spend the rest of my life with him and be deliriously happy.
I just never believed I had that option.
But now, I was swiping on mascara for a guy I didn’t even like, who’d basically hounded me into a date with him. Mark had been so persistent, I thought that if I just agreed, he’d back off a little.
Not so much apparently.
I appraised myself in the mirror and realized I didn’t look like I was trying very hard for this date. Probably because I wasn’t.
It may have been my imagination, or wishful thinking, but I’d thought Cyrus had gotten upset when I told him I had rescheduled my date with Mark. But if he didn’t want me going, it wasn’t like him to hold back from telling me.
We’d always been open and honest with each other. Well, I guess he’d always seemed open with me. I’d hidden my feelings for him for almost a decade.
The whole drive to the restaurant I was meeting Mark at was lost to thoughts of Cyrus. Thank goodness we’d agreed to meet somewhere familiar, because I absolutely autopiloted the entire ride there.
Mark was waiting for me at the door. He tried to put his hand on my hip, to guide me to the door, but I sidestepped him and continued unaided.
From that moment, I started to feel uncomfortable with him. I knew this wasn’t right. Not only because I’d been making a mess of things with Cyrus.
More than that, it was Mark himself. He was domineering, pushy and the more we talked, I realized he wasn’t very bright, either. All of this was wrong.
“Do you want dessert?” Mark offered when dinner was finally finished.
“No, thank you,” I insisted. “I’m good.”
“Do you want to go take a walk by the pier?” he asked as he accepted his credit card back from the waitress. “Get some fresh air?”
“I think I should probably just go,” I told him, smiling softly. “Thank you for a very nice dinner.”
“Okay,” he agreed. “When can I see you again?”
Ugh. Couldn’t he just let me go and allow me to avoid his calls for the next week? I didn’t want to have theit’s not you it’s meconversation. No matter how incredibly true it was.
“Mark, you’re a really nice guy—”
“I see,” he said, his tone clipped. “Well, I can’t say I’m surprised. You fought me long enough to even accept a date. I should have known you weren’t really interested.”
