Abby

A curse slips out of my mouth as I lurch across my living room. My fingers are

clumsy as I fumble with the door handle, but finally, I yank it open. The porch

light filters in, revealing Karl, his figure imposing even in the darkness of the

street outside.

“What are you doing here?” I’m more tired than angry, and a little too drunk for

my own good, leaving my voice harsher than I really intend.

Karl’s eyes scan over me, taking in my haphazard state, before his gaze floats

past me and into the equally haphazard state of my apartment. “Why aren’t you

answering your phone?” he asks. “I’ve been trying to call you. I’m worried.”

Enter title…

doorway, partially to hide

also partially to steady myself. “I didn’t feel

conveys exactly what I want it to: that I need

do I need

Karl doesn’t budge. Instead, he steps forward, brushing past

stop him. He stands

food, the two wine bottles, and the blooming red

carpet with the discarded towel before he finally turns back to face

trying to reach you.

slightly. “Well, I haven’t been looking at

been… busy.”

across his chest and frowns, a

what? Watching old movies and

a pointed look at the bottle

arms as though that will somehow protect me. “Maybe,” I

so what?

sighs. There it is again: that defensiveness

on Karl, who only ever tried his best to help me win

can’t help it. Right now, I’m angry with the world, and I

why.

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