Can't Let Go(7)

“Well—I—she’s my best friend; we’ve known each other practically since birth.”

“She has no other family that we could contact?”

“No, I’m the closest thing she has—what is this about?” Her heart was beginning to thud so loudly in her chest, she almost couldn’t hear the man on the other end of the phone. “Is she in some sort of trouble?”

“I hate to have to do this over the phone, Miss Lewis.” She didn’t even have a moment to prepare herself for what was to follow, her mind racing as she tried to figure it out before he could say. “I’m afraid there’s been an accident.”

“An accident?” They were fine—she knew it—they were fine—

“Yes. I’m so sorry, Miss Lewis—but there were no survivors.”

She felt her lungs empty of oxygen, felt the room sway, felt her heart stop.

“We’ve already made positive identifications, but we thought we should wait until the next of kin was reached before we did anything more.”

“Hayley’s…gone?” She could barely form the words.

“I’m afraid so, Miss.”

“And Blake?”

“There were no survivors.” He repeated and her body suddenly filled with an undeniable ache, unrelenting and powerful.

“I’ll be on the next flight out.”

“I’ll make the necessary arrangements.” He paused. “I really am very sorry for your loss.”

“Thank you,” she said, though she was truly unaware anymore of what he was saying. Images of she and Hayley from their entire lives were flashing before her eyes—prancing around in two-piece bathing suits when they were eight, mooning over boys when they were fourteen, shopping for prom dresses, the many nights they met Blake and Logan at the bar, the night of Hayley’s wedding, the last time she’d seen her—waving goodbye at the airport.

She was overwhelmed by the sudden emptiness that ripped through her.

Hayley was gone.

She was dead.





Chapter Two





Abby sat staring straight ahead for several long minutes, not even noticing the buzz of the busy signal coming from the phone at her ear.

“Look, Abigail—you know I hate arguing about this—” She heard the voice, but it sounded as if it were miles and miles away. It even sounded vaguely familiar, but she couldn’t see through the fog. “Abigail—?”

“She’s dead.” It was the only phrase she was capable of forming.

“Who’s dead?”

“Hayley. Blake. Their baby.” She was in shock. She knew this. The pain was turning into numbness, and this was easier to manage. Eric took the phone from her hand and pressed the button, silencing the persistent beep. She was wading through the murkiness. “I have to go to Kentucky.”

“Hold on—”

“I’m her next of kin. I have to go—I have to make the arrangements—”

“Abigail, just slow down,” Because she was now on her feet, hurrying toward the stairs that led upstairs to their bedroom. “You need to breathe.”

“I have to—I have to go, Eric.” She climbed the stairs, shaking her head. “There’s so much I need to do. I have to call—the airport, I need to call the airport. And my dad—and work. Oh, god, Ingrid is going to lose it—I’ve got to pack—”

“You need to slow down.”

“There isn’t time for slowing down,” Abby was switching to autopilot. She worked best on autopilot in these situations. She veered left, hurrying into Eric’s office with him right behind.

She flipped through his rolodex until she found the number for the airport, quickly pushing the button, asking for the next flight to Nashville. Nashville was closer than Louisville—she’d made the flight a few times. It would be about an hour and a half drive to Allensville from the airport.

The soonest she could leave was a flight that left early in the morning—that gave her a few hours to get everything together and take care of everything that needed to be done in L.A. She booked the flight and hung up the phone, turning around to face her fiancé. “You only booked it for one.”

“Well there’s no need for you to go too.”

“Abigail, your best friend just died.”

“Exactly. She’s my best friend. It’s my responsibility—I’ll take care of it all.” She shrugged her shoulders, feeling nothing anymore and grateful for it. “Besides, you have that Jacobs case. You can’t miss out on that. What would the partners think?” She knew this was the best way to get him to stay behind. Appeal to his work ethic. It would be better off for both parties if Eric stayed behind.

“But they would understand, Abigail.” Even as he spoke, though, she could tell he didn’t really mean it.

“No—no, really, it’s okay. I’ll be fine.” And just like that, he let it go.

“Should I do anything to help?” Perhaps if she had been in the right state, she would have been hurt by his quickness to settle. But feeling numb, as she did, she didn’t mind. It was what she wanted, after all.

“Drop me off at the airport? The flight leaves at six in the morning. I should get there a couple hours early.”

“What about sleep?”

“I’ll sleep on the flight.” She was making lists in her mind—things to pack, people to call, arrangements that would need to be made. Anything to distract her from the fact that not more than thirty minutes ago, she had just received the most earth-shattering information she’d ever received in her adult life. “I need to pack up a few things—and I should call my dad. He’d want to know.”

“Of course—whatever you need to do.” Abby nodded before gliding past him and into the bedroom, pulling her bags from the closet and riffling through the items that hung there. She began to pull things out at random at first, and then realized upon second thought that she wanted to put some thought into this. She owed it to her friend.

Abby busied herself for hours, keeping her mind distracted. There was quite a lot to be done she realized as she ran around tidying up, packing last minute items and finally taking a quick shower before she loaded up the car. Eric joined her moments later, sitting in the driver’s seat. Traffic was light and they made it there rather quickly.

“I’ll call when I get in,” she said, her hand on the door. Eric nodded.

“Be careful.”

“I will be.” She opened the door without so much as a second glance his way and hurried from the vehicle, needing to keep moving. She grabbed her bag from the trunk and waved over her shoulder before entering the large building.

She’d been navigating the airport since she was a little girl and so it was all familiar—menial tasks to take her mind off the reality of her situation. When she’d finally settled in at her gate, she sat down and stared at the cell phone in her hand, hesitating only a moment before surfing through her contacts until she came to Ingrid’s name.

“Ingrid, this is Abby. I’m just calling to let you know that I’m not going to be in for a few days—a friend of mine just passed away, and I’m going out of state in order to tend to the arrangements.”

As she hung up the phone, she felt another wave of shock pass through her.

It was happening. It was all really happening.

It just seemed so irrational—how could she be preparing to board a flight to plan Hayley’s funeral? How, when not even twenty-four hours before, she’d been so happy and alive?

How could she be dead?

The terminal began to sway and Abby inhaled sharply, trying to regain her bearings.

It would be okay. She knew it would. It had to be.

She imagined Hayley sitting at her side, scolding her for acting so lost. Abby was supposed to be the strong one—she was supposed to be the reasonable one. In times of crisis, it was Abby who took control.

But that had always been because she knew she had Hayley to lean on. Hayley who, despite her spontaneous and sometimes reckless behavior, was always there to support Abby—the picture of confidence and optimism.

She took another deep breath as tears threatened to well over. She needed to maintain control. This was no place to break down—it was no place to mourn.

She shifted her train of thought back to work then—so many things that had been left undone. Ingrid was going to be livid—she knew. But she didn’t care. She would be on her flight soon and she wouldn’t have to deal with the litany of phone calls that was sure to follow. She resolved to ignore the phone calls even once they did come—why shouldn’t she be allowed time to grieve? It was her right.

As another wave of emotion began to pass through her, she sighed and decided to distract herself by checking over everything she thought she should bring, making sure she had brought the numbers of everyone she was supposed to call. She ran through ideas of what she was supposed to say.