Abby
“Abby, these are so good,” Leah says, humming slightly as she chews her lemon poppyseed muffin. They’re a specialty of mine.
Leah, Chloe, and I have a standing afternoon tea date in the capital. Once a week, we get together to catch up on everything we’ve missed.
“Thank you,” I say, blushing slightly. I have a contract to provide desserts for this restaurant and a few others.
“Your desserts are getting better and better,” Chloe adds. She’s already finished her blueberry scone and has several others in a box to take home to her mother.
“All thanks to you guys,” I say. “You’re my first tasters after all.”
Leah wipes some stray sugar off the edge of her lip. “A role I treasure.”
“You’ll never guess who came into the restaurant the other night,” I say, doing my best to sound nonchalant.
“Who?” Chloe asks, pushing her hair behind her ears.
“A member of Karl’s staff. He wanted to make a reservation.”
Leah looks up, closing the compact mirror with a loud snap. “Tell me you didn’t say yes to him!”
I laugh. “I told him we’re reserved three months out. He doesn’t stand a chance.”
Chloe grins and high fives me. Across the table, Leah gives me an approving look. “Good, I’m proud of you, girlie.”
“I know you guys never really liked him…”
Chloe shakes her head. “I liked him at first, but he dragged you along way longer than he needed to. He never treated you right.”
I sit back in my chair, trying to quell the rise of indignation. Far be it from me to suddenly stand up for Karl, but I do believe he truly loved me at one point. He couldn’t have faked everything without me picking up on it. There was a time when I meant the world to him.
“You sacrificed too much for him,” Leah adds, probably noticing my skeptical look.
“You think?” I ask.
She nods. “Everything changed the minute you married him. You had to dress the way he wanted you to dress.”
I concede that point. Karl never liked me to dress too flashy. He preferred me to dress more conservatively, so that’s what I did. At the time, I didn't really mind. I was willing to do just about anything if I knew it would make him happy.
“Don’t even get me started on the black hair,” Chloe jumps in. I push my long, golden curls off my shoulder. It took me forever to get it back to my natural color.
“He loved the black hair,” I say.
Leah frowns. “He was too controlling.”
“Way too controlling,” Chloe agrees.
I know they’re right, but I hate admitting it, even to them. It’s hard to think about all the things I changed about myself just for him. I changed so much that when I look back at pictures from that time, I don’t even recognize myself. That’s why I hide all evidence of my past life at the back of my closet, where I can pretend it doesn’t exist.
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