Strike a Match

by Fiona Riley

  So she made no attempt to disrupt their routine. Because it benefited her. Because she loved the safety of it. Because it allowed her to avoid the part of her life that she was desperately trying to keep hidden for fear of it driving Sasha away. And she had wholly done this to herself. If she had been honest from the start, would Sasha still want to be with her?

  If this morning’s postcoital conversation was any indication, the answer was no. Sasha was so emotional, so communicative with Abby. She was never dishonest, ever. That’s what was killing Abby. Sasha had been entirely open and vulnerable this whole time and Abby couldn’t meet her at that level. She was hiding so much, and for what? For fear of losing something she didn’t think she’d ever find with someone. Ever.

  And Sasha’s statements this morning all but proved that fear to be true. Sasha had a clear contempt for those who fortune favored, for those who were given advantages that were completely unattainable to hardworking blue-collar people like Sasha and her parents. She had overheard the whispered conversations between Valeria and Sasha at the hospital when the days turned to weeks and Valeria worried about the bills. And yet every time, Sasha soothed her. She picked up extra shifts and worked catering jobs when her mother could sit by her father’s bedside, only taking time off work to take Valeria’s place, sitting vigil, hoping and praying for his infection to pass and to get a glimmer of her father back.

  Abby had seen it all. And the knot in her stomach tightened even more, a vise that kept her frozen in fear. She had withheld the truth for far too long and now she had everything to lose. Sasha would hate her. And she had every right to. After all, Abby was everything that Sasha loathed in this world. She was financially care free.

  Two weeks. They’d had two amazingly emotional and eye-opening weeks in which Abby had never felt more connected to another human being. Time to come clean.

  *****

  “Hey, Abby.” Dianna Rabin sauntered up to her in the hospital corridor, her smile genuine.

  “Dianna. Hi.” She kissed her on the cheek and gave her a one-armed hug.

  “What are you doing here? The board meeting isn’t until next week.” Dianna was on the hospital board as well, or more accurately, her family had a seat. Dianna was merely the current placeholder for the Rabin family. Their donated wing housed the colorectal unit and was one of the newest additions to the main campus.

  “I could ask the same of you.” Abby didn’t feel like talking to Dianna about Sasha or her father. It wasn’t that she didn’t trust Dianna or anything. It was just that, well, it was none of her damn business.

  Dianna laughed. “Never change, Abby. You’re as charming as ever.” Dianna was flirting. Abby had forgotten that her interactions with Dianna in the past had been mostly sarcastic and saturated with sexual tension. She was inadvertently falling into bad habits. Except this time, she was just trying to be evasive. Not mysterious. Abort, abort mission.

  “Oh, um, no. Not like that.” She cleared her throat. “I’m visiting a friend.”

  “Oh? Anyone I know?” Dianna leaned against the wall and crossed her ankles. Abby didn’t miss the way Dianna checked her out. She was so predatory that way. It made Abby miss Sasha.

  “I don’t think so. No.” Abby was itching to end this conversation. Sasha would be here any moment and she didn’t really feel like introducing them, considering last time they’d met, Sasha was half naked and writhing around onstage. Part of Abby was still a little possessive over Sasha. Dianna had, after all, gotten a little handsy in the bidding war at the dating auction.

  “Hey, Abs.” Right on cue, Sasha walked up. Because of course she did. “What’s cooking, good lookin’?” Sasha slid her arm around Abby’s waist and it took all her power not to pull away.

  “Bachelorette number twenty-seven. No shit.” Dianna stood to her full height and gave Sasha a wave, but not before she surveyed the arm Sasha had around Abby’s waist. A look of understanding crossed her face. “Fancy meeting you here.”

  Sasha looked between them, clearly confused. “Uh, hey.”

  “We haven’t been formally introduced.” Dianna extended her hand to Sasha. “I’m Dianna Rabin. Nice to meet you.”

  “Sasha McCray. Likewise.” Sasha shook her hand and looked back at Abby. “You two know each other?”

  “Yeah, we, uh…” Abby felt like a deer caught in headlights. This was bad. Very bad.

  Dianna spoke first. “Our families go way back.”

  Abby was grateful Dianna chose the more conservative response. That was technically true. It was also true that they used to have a lot of sex. But that didn’t seem pertinent right now.

  “Oh, that’s nice.” Sasha’s expression was unreadable.

  “Well, I won’t keep you.” Dianna looked back at Abby. “Oh, before I forget, I wanted to tell you that I tried out that new coffee machine you ordered. It’s fantastic.”

  How was it that she hadn’t noticed the gourmet coffee cup in Dianna’s hand? Oh, probably because she was having a full-blown panic attack from running into her here in the first place. No big deal.

  “Coffee machine?” Sasha asked.

  Dianna pointed behind them to the space where the antiquated sludge machine had been two weeks prior. Abby had made a few phone calls and requested that all the self-serve machines be upgraded in the hospital. She hadn’t given it much thought beyond that—in fact, she’d completely forgotten about it until now.

  Dianna continued, “They’re mighty fancy. It was surely a splurge for the board. But since you’re queen of the write-offs, I’m sure it all worked out. The coffee is top notch—I think the patients and their families are going to be thrilled.”

  “Thanks,” Abby replied dumbly. Sasha’s hand twitched on her hip and she wondered how quickly she could get Dianna to leave.

  “Anyway, it was nice meeting you, Sasha.” Dianna turned to go and Abby thought she might have gotten away scot-free until Dianna turned back to add, “Do me a favor? Tell your mother to return my mom’s phone calls. She’s been bitching that Edie’s missed three bridge games this month. Their team is in a tailspin. She swears the whole country club is talking about them.” Dianna rolled her eyes and sighed. “Lord knows we don’t need that kind of drama.”

  “Sure thing.” She could feel Sasha’s eyes boring a hole in the side of her head. Fuck.

  Dianna waved good-bye and was gone before Abby could think of an escape plan to join her.

  “Edie’s your mother?” Sasha’s arm was off her waist faster than she had a chance to comprehend what had just happened. “And what board is she talking about?”

  “Sasha. I can explain.” She couldn’t look at her though. Abby hated herself.

  When Sasha didn’t say anything, Abby mustered her courage to look up at her and immediately regretted it. Sasha looked so betrayed Abby didn’t think she’d ever get the image out of her head.

  “What the fuck, Abby?” Sasha ran her hand through her dark hair and Abby felt nauseous.

  “It’s not—it’s just that…” She didn’t know what to say.

  A look of understanding crossed Sasha’s face and the betrayed expression shifted to one of anger. “Let me help you here. How many times have I met Edie, your mother, and you didn’t think to mention that to me? Come to think of it, I recall you telling me that you were colleagues, colleagues through your nonprofit job, except she was more of the philanthropic type. Because she’s a Davenport.” Sasha turned and pointed to the sign over the elevator, her voice a sharp hiss. “As in Davenport Memorial Hospital. As in Davenport Charitable Services. As in you are a fucking Davenport and you didn’t think to mention it to me?”

  “Sasha, it’s complicated—” Abby felt faint.

  “Complicated? What’s complicated is that you have been fucking me for weeks and you didn’t think that warranted you being honest with me? Like I didn’t deserve the simple courtesy of knowing that the woman we kept running into, who is dating my frigging boss by the way, is your mother?�
� Sasha shook with rage.

  “Sasha—” Abby didn’t get anything else out.

  Sasha shook her head, her eyes welling with tears. “How am I supposed to even look at you right now? I needed you, I trusted you. I thought we had something special. I’ve spent the last few weeks falling in love with someone I know nothing about.” Sasha wiped away a tear before something appeared to occur to her. “What else don’t I know about you, Abby? What other secrets are you keeping? Were you even a member of Samantha’s bachelorette Rolodex or is that a bunch of bullshit, too?”

  Abby wasn’t sure at what point during Sasha’s speech she had started to cry, but she was full-on bawling now. “Sasha, please.”

  Sasha scoffed. “Forget it. I don’t want to know anymore. Our entire relationship is built on a lie.” She shook her head. “Just leave.”

  Abby was panicking. This had gone horribly wrong, but there had to be something she could do, something she could say. She reached for Sasha’s hand but Sasha pulled it back like she’d been burned.

  “How foolish of me to ask you to go, being as you own this hospital and all.” The hurt on Sasha’s face made Abby sob even harder. “Just leave my family alone. You’ve done enough damage already. Let me watch my father die in peace.”

  Sasha cursed under her breath and turned, walking right out of Abby’s life.

  Chapter Twenty-one

  “Did you try calling her?” Her mother nudged her elbow with her designer bag and Abby contemplated launching it across the room.

  “Of course I called her, Mom. I’ve called her about a hundred times. She doesn’t want to talk to me.” Abby was sick of talking about Sasha. She was sick of thinking about Sasha. And yet she couldn’t seem to stop missing Sasha. None of that mattered though, not anymore.

  Her mother looked pained. But to her credit, she didn’t say anything. Which Abby would have preferred if instead of prying her mother wasn’t giving her the most pathetic expression she had ever seen.

  “What, Mom?”

  Her mother seemed to hesitate. She sat down next to Abby and helped her put on her necklace. “She’s mad.” Her voice was soft and soothing. “She has every right to be—”

  “This pep talk sucks, Mom.” Abby knew her mother was right, but that didn’t mean she wanted to hear it.

  Her mother tried again. “Clearly you feel very strongly about her and she let you know that she felt very strongly about you.”

  Abby had replayed that fight over and over in her mind these past few weeks and the part that always stung the worst was when Sasha had told her she was falling in love with her. In love. Love was easily the most profound and important four-letter word Sasha had ever uttered in her presence, and what should have been a joyous feeling surrounding it was instead shame and devastation. Sasha had been falling in love with her and she’d ruined it. It kept her up at night. It kept her up at night because somewhere along the way, she’d felt the same way about Sasha and hadn’t been brave enough to admit it. She hadn’t been brave during any of this. At all.

  “Mom. You’re making me feel worse with every word. Please. Just let it go.” Abby brushed her mother’s hand away and flattened the necklace to her collarbone, using the reflection in the mirror in front of them to help her center it.

  “You need to tell her you love her and that you were wrong, because this Abby”—her mother motioned up and down her frame—“this Abby is grouchy and sad and miserable to be around.”

  Abby had no more bark left. Her mother’s words hit all the right spots and she was melting into a puddle of tears before she could stop herself.

  Her mother rubbed her back and pulled her against her chest, soothing along her back and her neck. “Sh, sh. It’s not too late, you can fix this. Pick up your bootstraps and apologize. Start fresh.”

  “It’s too late,” Abby cried into her mother’s neck. “It’s too late and I’m a terrible person and I deserve to be heartbroken.”

  Her mother’s hand stopped its soothing circles and instead pushed Abby back so that they were facing each other, eye to eye. Her mother smoothed her thumb under Abby’s eyes and she sighed. “You are not a terrible person. You made a decision that may not have been the best, but you did it out of a sense of self-preservation.” She brushed a loose strand of hair behind Abby’s ear before she continued. “Abby, all along you told me that you wanted the chance to get out from under the shadow of your name. I get it. I do. So tell her that. Give her a chance to understand where you were coming from.”

  “You’re assuming I could even get her to listen. Even if I could, she’d never forgive me.” Abby’s shoulders slumped. That was the realization she had come to after a series of unanswered texts and sleepless nights. Why should Sasha even give her the time of day?

  “You’ve got nothing to lose, Abigail.” Her mother stood and pulled her into a hug. “Don’t give up on love, Abby. It’s all there is in life.”

  There was a knock at the door before it opened and Luke joined them. “Ready, ladies? The gala starts in twenty minutes.”

  “Luke, honey. Give us five minutes to fix our makeup and we’ll be right down.”

  He nodded but not before giving Abby an understanding nod. “Take all the time you need.”

  Abby sighed as she looked in the mirror. “This is going to take more than five minutes.”

  “I’ll help. Many hands make light work.” Her mother nudged her and she laughed.

  “You make it sound like this is going to be a lot of heavy lifting.” Abby picked up a tissue and dabbed under her eyes.

  “I’m just being a realist, darling.” Her mother was teasing her, and she was grateful for a reprieve from the hurt, even for just a moment.

  *****

  Samantha Monteiro smiled and graciously thanked what seemed like the dozenth guest to offer her congratulations on her recent nuptials. This was one of the first public events since her wedding to Lucinda and the glow had not worn off. She loved celebrating her love.

  “This newlywed thing is the best.” She slid her hand into Lucinda’s and leaned against her. “Why didn’t I do this earlier?”

  Lucinda scrunched her nose with a laugh. “I should have proposed sooner?”

  Samantha considered this. “At the end of our first date would have been more than appropriate. I definitely would have said yes.”

  “Oh? Is that so?” Lucinda pulled her close by their clasped hands and brushed her nose along Samantha’s ear. “Because if I recall, our first date ended with some really fantastic and mind-blowing kissing. The kind of kissing that made me want a million more dates with you.”

  Samantha turned her head to bring their lips together. She never got tired of kissing Lucinda. “Precisely my point. No one is saying remove the kissing part, but perhaps you could have proposed after—or even, if you wanted to be really romantic, during—the kissing. Then you would have guaranteed all the dates. Forever.”

  “If you’d said yes, you mean.” Lucinda’s blue eyes sparkled as she spoke.

  “I already told you I would have said yes.” Samantha wiggled her ring finger as proof. “That’s clearly a given in this scenario.”

  “What if you were terrible in bed though? Wasn’t it in both of our best interests to try that out a few times before we made it all death-do-us-part?” Lucinda teased.

  Samantha scoffed. “As if that was ever in question.”

  Lucinda shrugged.

  “Are you serious?” Samantha was offended.

  “No.” Lucinda kissed her again, smiling against her lips. “But you could have been a total pillow princess. The hot ones always are.”

  “Sweeping generalizations abound.” Samantha nipped at Lucinda’s bottom lip. “Luckily for you, I’m not.”

  “Far from it.” Lucinda’s expression was genuine. “You’re everything I ever could’ve asked for and more. That’s my favorite part about being a newlywed. The part where I’m actually married to you.”

  Samantha’s heart d
oubled in size. “So not just all the hot, newlywed sex then?”

  “That helps.” Lucinda ran her hands along Samantha’s sides, settling at her hips. “But we had pretty hot pre-newlywed sex, too. I think we do just fine in that department.”

  “Says you,” Samantha purred. “I personally think we should have more of it.”

  Lucinda gave her a very serious nod. “You’re right. Let’s bail on this thing and get to work immediately. That dress looks much too constricting. Let’s get it off.”

  Samantha slapped at Lucinda’s hands and shook her head. “I’ve created a monster.”

  “A sex monster,” Lucinda corrected her.

  “As much as that sounds like the ideal way to spend this evening, and don’t get me wrong, I really, really mean that, we have some work to do tonight.”

  Lucinda regarded her with suspicion. “Work? We’re working tonight? I thought we were attending a friendly neighborhood museum gala—” She stopped herself. “Forget it. Forget I said anything at all. Clearly, you’re the mastermind here. So, tell me, love, what kind of work are we doing tonight?”

  Samantha loved that Lucinda could be playful and teasing one moment and sexy the next moment without any apparent change of gears. But what she loved most about Lucinda was the way she always supported her, in every crazy endeavor. Always. Tonight was no different.