Author's Note: This is my first story. Any feedback gratefully received.
***
Joshua pressed the buzzer and heard the bell ring inside. There was a jolt in his stomach, but he couldn't tell if it was nervousness or the giddy thrill of being here at all, somewhere he knew he shouldn't be. Abigail was a close friend of Sally, his ex, and even though Sally had broken up with him and not the other way around, it felt like a betrayal to be standing here, on the dark, narrow path in front of Abigail's apartment.
It had started innocently enough; he and Sally had agreed they could still share the same friends after breaking up, still go to the same parties, still stay in the same group chats. And even though he had been crushed when Sally told him it was over, Joshua had taken her at her word when it came to sharing friends. He certainly hadn't had anything illicit in mind when he'd sent a message to the group asking if anyone wanted to go the brewery with him tonight. But everyone had been busy, or not in the mood, or away, and he was on the verge of canceling the whole thing when Abi messaged him directly saying she'd like to go.
He'd been friendly with Abigail for years; friendly, but never really friends. He'd only spent time with her as part of a group, and always with Sally around. And if just once in a while he'd thought he caught a look from her that lingered ever so slightly, he certainly hadn't thought anything of it; a moment later Abigail would be looking at someone else in the group, or hugging Sally, or laughing. Abigail was always laughing, always embracing people. She was witty and confident, and her laugh was warm and generous and used freely when someone said something that deserved it.
A light flicked on behind the dark glass of the front door, and Joshua heard footsteps coming from inside. For a moment, he thought about darting back into the darkness behind him and slinking away. He could send Abigail an excuse: "Got stuck at work," "The Uber broke down," "My dog is sick," -- "Let's take a rain check," -- "No, I didn't ring your buzzer, that's so weird! Must have been neighborhood kids." Then he'd head back to his apartment, safe and quiet and dark and empty.
He felt like he was standing on a diving board 50 feet in the air, deciding if he should tip himself over the edge or turn around and climb back to the ground. But no, he was being ridiculous. There was nothing wrong with going to the brewery with Abigail. He'd posted the invite to the whole friend group! It wasn't his fault no one else was free. And Abigail messaging him back privately rather than posting in the group; that was just her being sensitive to Sally's feelings. It didn't mean she was interested in him, and it certainly didn't mean anything romantic was going to happen. Besides, he could see Abi's shape coming up to the door now. No turning back.
"There you are!" said Abigail as she opened the door with an easy, unselfconscious smile. Her dark wavy hair fell freely down to her shoulders, a soft frame around her pale face. Her eyes were large and bright, her lips full, her face angular but delicate and graceful. It was September, and now the sun had set there was a fall chill in the air, but all Abigail had on was a white tee and forest green bike shorts. In the soft light spilling out from inside, Joshua realized she was wearing makeup: a darkness around the eye, a darkness around the lip. Did she usually wear makeup? He couldn't recall.
"Hey!" Joshua said, smiling back. Oh god, should he hug her? Is that what people did? He certainly wasn't going to try to kiss her on the cheek, and shaking her hand would be even more ridiculous. Or should he do nothing? No, she was already leaning in with her arms stretched out. OK, OK. They would hug.
Joshua had a suede jacket on over his t-shirt, but he could still feel the warmth from Abigail's body as she pressed herself against him for a moment, and as her head tucked into his neck he caught a hint of something floral. Not floral like a rose bush, but floral like a garden late at night when the air was hot and still.
And then she let go, and turned, and walked away into her apartment.
"Nice place," Joshua said as he followed her into the open-plan kitchen and living room.
"Oh, haven't you been here before?" she said lightly, as she picked up a wine glass from the counter and topped it up from an open bottle of red.
Joshua smiled. She must know he hadn't been to her apartment before. Right? Or was she so socially active, so open with her home, that she really did assume he'd been here at some point or another?
"Would you like some?" she asked, nodding at the open bottle. Joshua had thought they'd go straight to the brewery when he arrived. Hadn't Abigail's message said, "My place is a ten minute walk from there, stop by here and then we'll head over?" But she seemed so at ease that it felt like the most natural thing in the world to say yes, he'd have some wine. After all, what was he going to do, sit on her couch watching her drink the glass she'd just filled for herself?
She poured him a glass -- a large glass -- and as she handed it over his fingers grazed hers. A jolt of energy radiated up his arm to his torso and bounced around his stomach. She sat on the couch and folded her bare legs up and under her so that she was almost sitting on her feet. He considered his options for sitting in the small living room space; a couch big enough for two people or a painted wooden chair in the corner. The chair was off to the side and didn't look like it was sat in much. Would it seem strange if he sat there?
"You can put your jacket there," said Abigail, pointing at the chair, seeming to read his mind. He did as he was told and then sat down on the couch. He sat right by the armrest, but it was a small couch and his thigh almost reached Abigail's feet. It was strange: if he did touch her bare skin, even by accident, he would feel like the creep, like he was doing something wrong, even though she had sat down here first, and told him to sit here too, on her small couch with barely enough room for two people.
"Do you like the wine?" Abigail asked, scooting around a little to face him more, bringing her knees just inches from his thigh.
He hadn't tasted it yet. He took a sip and said, "Yeah," immediately without thinking. Then a second later, "Oh, I actually do! That's really good."
She laughed at his nervousness, but not unkindly. He grinned too.
"We're still heading to the brewery after, yeah?" he asked.
"What else would be doing?" she asked, narrowing her eyes at him but still with a faint smile.
"Right, yeah," he said, smiling back but feeling very unsure of himself.
"So, how have you been?" she asked, looking serious now with a long, unbroken stare.
He looked at the floor and his shoulders hunched. "With Sally and everything you mean. Yeah, it's been kinda rough. Obviously, we were together for a long time -- four years -- and I really loved her, and..." He trailed off, wondering what he was trying to say. "It's sad. I'm sad. I'm really, really sad. And it was a shock because things were going pretty well. Or at least, I thought they were going pretty well. We weren't fighting or anything, and like, no one cheated or anything like that, of course."
"You wanted to stay together, then?" Abigail asked.
"Yeah. Or at least; yeah, in the moment, I did, of course. But since then, even though I miss her, and I miss her every day, part of me thinks she was right, you know? By the end, we were more like friends than partners."
"That's very hard," she said, looking right at him. Her eyes seemed very big.
"I can't imagine you can relate," he said.
"What do you mean?"
"Well, just... in your relationships I mean, I just can't imagine that you... well, that things would... that someone would stop... you know."
"I don't know, Joshua," she said, looking perfectly serious. "You think I can't fall out of love with a partner?"
"No, no," he said hurriedly, "I just mean that... you're such a passionate person. And you inspire passion in people. That's all I mean, I can't imagine someone's feelings for you going stale like that."
He turned towards her just in time to see the blur of a couch cushion mid-swing towards his head. It hit him with a thud and as he jerked away his glass sent a jet of red wine out over the polished wood floor.
