Abigail
His words struck me like a slap to the face, leaving me momentarily stunned and trying to make sense of what he had just said.
It wasn’t the words themselves that unsettled me—it was the man saying them. My brother, Liam, who had once left a final exam early because of a single emergency text about our mother, only to find out I’d already sorted the issue before he even arrived at the hospital. That was the kind of man my brother was— always putting family first. For as long as I could remember, there was nothing more important to Liam than Mom’s well-being, and I knew that better than anyone.
So why was he suddenly acting like a press conference organized by Conrad mattered more than me wanting to see our mother? Over the woman who had worked herself to the bone to raise us?
I opened my mouth to ask him that very question, but before I could speak, my phone buzzed in my hand, startling me. I glanced down, gr
AbigailIn truth, if I were choosing for myself, I would have gone with something quieter. A single string of pearls, maybe paired with a delicate pair of drop earrings, something that matched the soft elegance of the dress, that didn’t need to scream to be noticed. It would give my whole look a vintage undertone and graceful finish. But I wasn’t going to the banquet as Abigail.I was going as Susanna. And Susanna was never subtle. She didn’t care about balance or restraint. She cared about being seen, about being remembered. Being envied.The dress had already been a sort of compromise, as it was a gown I adored but one Susanna would have found too tame. So now, I needed to correct the scales. I needed to find something bold enough to satisfy the persona I wa
AbigailBy the time I finished changing and emerged from the fitting room, Quinn was long gone. I made a beeline for the drinks table and poured myself a glass of the guava flavored water that had been brought in earlier. The pinkish liquid glimmered under the light, and the chill of the glass was welcome against my palm. I took a slow sip, savoring the sweet tang, as I sat down.Out of the corner of my eye, I glanced at Alexander. His expression was tight with focus as he spoke into his phone. Something about the way his brow furrowed, the hand cupped near his jaw, the soft but firm tone he used all drew my eyes. I wasn’t trying to eavesdrop, and I didn’t catch more than a few words, but I could tell it wasn’t a casual conversation. Work, likely.Still, even when distracted, he had a w
AbigailAlexander didn’t immediately respond. His fingers, which had been idly tracing small circles on my shoulder this entire time, finally went still, but his hand didn’t move away.“I pay attention,” he said simply. It shouldn’t have made me feel anything. I mean, it was hardly a confession of undying affection. And yet, the way he said it… It made my throat tighten.“It’s a color I’ve noticed you favor,” Alexander continued, like it wasn’t a surprise at all. “In your day-to-day wardrobe. And for good reason; it brings out your eyes.” His voice was low. “Ivory would be another good option, it softens your skin tone.”I stared at him, stunned. My heart gave a traitorous lurch an
AbigailBy the time Alexander pulled up to the house, I was already waiting by the entrance, dressed in a soft cream top that draped off one shoulder and loose navy blue pants that cinched at the waist. My hair was twisted into a lazy ponytail, tendrils curling around my face in a way that I didn’t entirely mind. A small crossbody bag rested against my hip, the strap tangled around my arm as I walked to his car.He got out as I approached, ever the gentleman, and gave me that unreadable look of his, the kind that held something too complicated to name.“You really don’t have to come shopping with me, you know,” I said lightly, slipping into the passenger seat. “You’ll be bored out of your mind.”Alexander didn’t respond right away, just gave me a faint smirk as he started the car. I wasn’t sure if he didn’t believe me or if he was waiting for me to dig my hole deeper.I tried again. “I’m notoriously indecisive when it comes to shopping. Truly awful. I might drive you mad.”He shook hi
AbigailThe moment my phone began vibrating against my lap, I barely spared it a glance. I was too deep into The Clock Maker's Widow, the sequel to The Blood of Mayfair, and I had just hit the chapter where everything began crumbling around the villain. The tension in the book had my breath caught halfway in my throat, and I wasn’t ready to let go.But then my buzzed again insistently, pulling me out of the story. I sighed heavily, sliding the book’s silk ribbon between the pages and marking my spot. I picked up the phone, my lips already thinned with annoyance until I saw Alexander's name flash across the screen.Immediately, my irritation softened. He rarely called during work hours, preferring to send quiet, thoughtful messages to check in. One of which, earlier today, had been a simple: “Eat.” Followed by a photo of a steaming bowl of soup which had been sent to the office from the estate kitchen.So if he was calling me now… I swiped to answer, cradling the phone against my ear.
AbigailBut Roxy cut me off, her voice gentle but firm. “Yeah, I’m not saying you can’t but now… you’re doing it to Alexander, or rather, with him. Maybe you’re feeling this way because you want to be Abigail with him in public, not ‘Susanna’.”Her words hung in the air. It was like a key finally turning in a lock I hadn’t even realized was there. The vague, nagging feeling, the inexplicable hesitation that had been a dull ache since Alexander first suggested it… Roxy had just named it. My breath deflated, leaving me feeling suddenly hollowed out. She had hit the nail squarely on the head.“Oh,” was all I could manage, my voice barely a whisper.Sensing her accuracy, Roxy’s tone softened even more, shifting into that comforting, sagely register she reserved almost exclusively for me. “Hey,” she said warmly, “a mask is just a mask. As long as we know who’s behind it, as long as Alexander knows he’s with you, not Susanna…that’s what truly matters.”In a small voice, I confessed, “You’re