TORTURED SOUL | abby littman

𝗰𝗵𝗮𝗽𝘁𝗲𝗿 𝗳𝗼𝗿𝘁𝘆 𝘀𝗶𝘅.

   
  
  
  
   

chapter forty six

{ unedited }

   
  
  
  
   

ROWAN NEVER DID END UP GOING TO ABBY'S HOUSE FOR DINNER THAT DAY. She wished she could say she had given Abby a warning beforehand but it slipped her mind completely and she only remembered after a spam of messages from Abby, some disappointed, some worried, and she apologised on end to Abby when she next saw her in person but it didn't feel like enough, not to Rowan, so here she was now outside Abby's house a week later, holding onto a dish Grace had helped her make as she waited for the door to open. She'd spent most of her time at Grace's house over this last week, something she never realised she needed until after her slip on the roof and, whilst she was drinking daily still, it didn't hurt as much to exist. Not the way it used to. Not the way Rowan knew it would go back to eventually. She was making the most of the euphoria whilst it lasted.

"Rowan?" Abby swung open the door, faltering when she saw Rowan on the other side, clinging onto it firmly as she looked up at Rowan with a frown.

"Hey."

"What's that?" Abby asked, jutting her chin to the foil container in Rowan's hand.

"Shakshuka. It's your mom's favourite, right?" Rowan attempted a smile but Abby gave nothing in response and she dropped it with a sigh. "I know I fucked up and I know you're mad at me but I'm sorry. I'm really fucking sorry and hey, I made this to make it up to you and your mom. Well, I had help but still. I'm sorry, Abby. Please don't be mad at me. Please. I hate it when you're mad at me."

"You..." Abby trailed off, a hand wrapping around Rowan's shirt, pulling her into the house. "Are so lucky my mom hasn't cooked anything today. And yeah, that's her favourite. I'm surprised you remembered."

"I remember everything you tell me." Almost everything. But whatever. "So, you're not mad?" Rowan asked as she let Abby pull her into the house.

"No," Abby sighed, releasing Rowan's shirt from her grip. "I'm not." Rowan grinned, snaking her free hand around Abby's waist from behind to keep her in place, leaning forward to press a kiss to her cheek, whispering her gratitude. "Yeah, whatever," Abby said with a roll of her eyes but was still smiling. "Now you gotta charm my mom. She doesn't like being stood up."

"I'll win her over."

"Yeah, I'm sure you will," Abby replied once they reached the kitchen and Rowan placed the container down on the table, smiling down at Abby when she turned in her arms. "Some ground rules. Don't bring up marriage, especially my dad, whatsoever. Don't bring up anything trending in the news, she hates talking about that stuff. If she starts questioning your life or feelings, change the subject otherwise she won't stop. She's picky about cutlery so just follow whatever I use. Never fill your glass to the top and don't play with your food, she hates that more than anything. Got it?"

"No love talk, no news, no feelings, follow your lead on cutlery, glass half filled only, don't play with food. Did I get it?"

"Yeah, uh..." Abby tilted her head back, her brows knitting together as she mouthed along silently to what she was thinking before nodding. "Yeah, you got it all."

"See? I'm gonna ace this," Rowan said with a nod, chuckling when Abby rolled her eyes playfully. "I'll stick to all the rules and I'll win her over. Promise."

"You can't promise that, Ro."

"So can. And I have. So I will. Swear it."

"Rowan―"