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[blogname01]

finalities‌ / monika.

⏤ 16 DAYS MISSING.

“Abel?” Monika called his name out as she closed the front door and locked it behind her. Under normal circumstances, she would have rang the doorbell and waited for Abel to answer. But in the days that followed her first visit to his house since Ava’s disappearance, they had fallen into a sort of routine, where she would come by the house and let herself in, as if they had always done this even though it had only been six days. Today, she was greeted by the frantic cries of Bear upstairs instead of Abel’s weary welcome. Crossing the front entranceway, she climbed the stairs to the second floor as she had done so many times in the preceding days, and padded down the hallway to Bear’s nursery. The door was ajar, and it was only when she stepped into the frame that she found Abel standing in the middle of the room holding his son, Bear’s face pink with anger as he cried out, his father holding him at his shoulder. “Oh, goodness,” Monika said softly, stepping into the room. As she moved closer, she held her hands out, indicating to Abel that he could hand the child over to her. She knew his eardrums likely needed the reprieve. “What’s wrong today, sweetness?” she murmured, accepting the infant child as Abel set him in her arms. Once Bear was against her chest, she held him close and began to sway side to side, something she’d learned that helped to soothe the fourteen-month-old. “Hey, there,” she said, smiling up at Abel. “Are we having a rough morning?”

Mornings were always the worst. While he struggled to wake himself up, he found it damn near impossible to get Bear up without it resulting in a war. Mornings had always been Ava’s speciality, then again, raising Bear in general had been. Abel tried every trick in the book, or least the extent of his knowledge in an attempt to calm the child. He’d scanned over parenting boards to find a solution, but no method seemed to fix the madness that unfolded in the Thomas household. “Good morning,” he greeted, a single nod all he could give before he handed over the child. “He’s mad that I woke him up. I didn’t want him to miss a feeding time, but I guess I screwed that one up,” he explained, feeling less defeated with her around. “Mom said it’s payback for all the times I did her like this,” he added lightly, accepted that she offered the nurturing touch that his son needed. “I can make breakfast, if you want? You can’t do everything around here.”

[blogname01]

finalities‌ / monika.

Monika’s fingers curled into the fabric of his shirt, her free hand moving to grip the railing of the crib to keep herself upright as Abel held her face in his hands, the pads of his thumbs working over her temples. Her gaze faltered, falling to his chest, then lifting to his mouth. It was his turn to reassure her, and she wanted so badly to believe him when he told her that he was going to be okay. She couldn’t handle the thought of anything happening to him. All of this was difficult enough, she didn’t want to fathom a reality where any harm came to him or his family. It was only when he asked her to look at him that she met his eyes. This close, she could smell the tequila on his breath. She wondered if it’d had any effect on him, on his response to her. “I still care about you,” she murmured softly, acutely aware of the child sleeping a mere foot away from them. “Please don’t push me away. I want to help.”

As much as he needed to pull away, he couldn’t bring himself to do just that. How was he supposed to walk away with her fingers clenched into his shirt? “I never stopped caring about you,” he assured, eyes focused on emerald hues. Even after all those years, a marriage and a child, he never stopped wanting her. “I can’t promise anything, but I can try.” Truth be told, he wasn’t quite sure he understood how to be her friend. Maybe it’d all work out with the chaos that was bound to unfold around them, or maybe it would always be a foreign topic. Regardless, he couldn’t run.

[blogname01]

finalities‌ / monika.

To hear Abel speak so reverently about his son gave Monika hope that he wasn’t slipping away, falling under the weight of the heavy burden that had come to rest on his shoulders. Not to mention the outside stressors. The rumors around town, the speculation about him. The investigation. Standing here, in Bear’s room, she saw his edges soften. She saw his vulnerability in the dim light. She saw strength in a man who was being beaten down by everyone and everything. And she felt love ⏤ something that had never truly gone away no matter how many years they put between the past and present. “I know I don’t have to do it,” she said softly, her hand stilling as it fell to his lower back. “But I can’t stand by and do nothing, Abel. It kills me to see you like this. You haven’t slept, you haven’t eaten.” He turned to look at her and she couldn’t bring herself to break contact. She needed it, needed to stay tethered to him somehow. Moving her hand, she placed her palm gently on his chest and looked up at him. A sigh fell from her lips. “I’m worried about you.”

Out of everyone that had came over to check on him, Monika was the only person that bothered pushing against his resistance. She understood him and knew just what made him tick. She was just as stubborn as he’d remembered, always willing to help, no matter what it would cost her in the end. “I’m trying,” he assured, though some days that was easier to believe than others. Swallowing hard, Abel’s hands found comfort cupping the woman’s face. Her skin was warm as thumbs brushed against her temples. She was too good to be true, but he’d known that his whole life. “I’m going to be fine, alright? I’m always going to be fine.” If he said it enough, there was a chance he’d actually start to believe it. “Look at me,” he exhaled, eyes finding her lighter hues through the dim lighting. “I’m going to be okay.” He couldn’t promise that, but he’d try. If not for himself, then for Bear.

[blogname01]

finalities‌ / monika.

A smile formed on Monika’s face. “He definitely has your eyes.” And how fortunate was he, to have inherited his father’s most beautiful physical trait ⏤ the very eyes that were looking at her now in the faint light. Even in the near-darkness she could see his pain shining through them. It hurt her to see him like this, overwrought with doubt, exhausted by everything life had thrown at him in the preceding days. “Some days will be easier than others; some days will be harder,” she said, her hand traveling up and down his spine, still moving in reassuring motions. “But you can’t give up, okay? And you can’t be afraid to lean on me.” A thought crossed her mind ⏤ one she should have given more thought, but in the moment, she was desperate to ease his suffering. “I can stay the night. I’ll stay up and watch Bear, so you can sleep.” It was too much, too soon. Dropping off dinner was one thing, but this was something else entirely. Something she wasn’t sure she would know how to explain to her husband, beyond simply stating that Abel needed help with Bear, and who was she to decline helping a friend whose wife was missing? Fearful she’d overstepped, Monika added: “Please, just tell me how I can help.”

“I think he’s gonna have my smile too. He does this thing,” he hummed, eyes finding his son’s sleeping frame once more. “He does this thing where he I swear he grins just like I do. It’s like he knows he’s being an ass.” Ava had commented on it tons during Bear’s dramatic moments, but she wasn’t wrong. No matter what the next day brought, Abel knew he couldn’t give in to the temptation of defeat. He’d always have to stand tall, even when he felt so small. “I know. I can’t give up. I won’t.” While leaning on her would be hard, Abel was sure there was no other way he’d make it through this. It was fucked up to be leaning on someone he loved in the way he loved Monika, but other than his mother, she was the only person who knew how to help. Money couldn’t buy his trust or comfort; only time did. “I can’t ask you do that. You have to sleep.” That, and he was sure her husband would eventually return, right? God, he needed the sleep though. “I’ll stay in here. It’s where I sleep,” he admitted, releasing a quiet huff of air before turning toward her. “You don’t have to do this,” he reminded, eyes tracing the shape of her face the way he’d done so many times before. Somehow, she’d changed so much, yet not at all since they were young.

[blogname01]

finalities‌ / monika.

Monika’s hand moved in small motions on Abel’s back in an effort to calm him as he spoke, recounting the night he and Ava had brought their son home for the first time, and the fear that had come with fatherhood. She understood the fear of causing harm to such a tiny being; it had coursed through her the first time she’d held Bear during her and Sebastian’s visit to see the new parents and their beloved child in the days following the birth. Nestled in the crib now, Abel’s son slept peacefully. Monika gazed down at him, amazed by him and how much he’d already grown in the last year. “You don’t need to think about that right now,” Monika whispered in the dark, shifting closer, her hand still working on Abel’s back. “All you need to do is take care of yourself, and take care of him.” It was much easier said than done for him to focus on the present and not worry about the future, but if she didn’t talk him down from the ledge, he’d burn himself out on the stress of what was yet to come. “He’s so beautiful,” she said in an effort to shift his focus to his son and away from the hypotheticals running through his head. “You’re a good father, Abel. He’s lucky to have you.”

It felt inevitable. It’d been ten days and as hopeful of a man as he was, Abel couldn’t let go of the idea that maybe something had happened. Whatever that something was, maybe he’d never know. “All I care about is him.” It was hard to care for himself when he was too busy blaming himself instead. What more could he have done to prevent this? God, he’d never stop asking that. Nodding, Abel released a quiet, muffled chuckle. “Everyone says he looks more like her, but he’s got my eyes,” he grinned, though the words came with a shot of pain all the same. He still remembered the night Ava cried the moment she released her son wouldn’t share her oceanic hues. “It doesn’t always feel like that.” It was a heavy confession, especially to the father himself. “I’m trying,” he half lied, eyes finding hers in the dimly lit room. “I don’t know how I’m ever supposed to sleep knowing he could need me.”

[blogname01]

finalities‌ / monika.

The request to accompany him upstairs to check on Bear was not something Monika had expected. Admittedly, she felt out of sorts in the house, due to a combination of her own warring emotions and the fact that they were alone, something he had admitted he didn’t trust. But wasn’t it something she needed to be comfortable with if she was going to help him? He was asking for her assistance now; refusing it seemed callous, selfish. She couldn’t put her feelings ahead of what was needed. Dropping her head, she inhaled deeply before turning to face him. “Okay.” A beat passed between them before either of them moved. “Lead the way?” she asked, prompting him to guide her through the house. She followed him silently as he climbed the stairs to the second floor, trying not to spend too much time focusing on the various framed family photos that lined the wall. There were pictures of Abel and Ava from their engagement photoshoot and wedding, and ones of Bear spanning his growth from newborn up until recently. At the top of the stairs was a gorgeous family portrait that Monika assumed to be somewhat recent, given Bear’s size. She couldn’t stand to look at it any longer than was necessary to register the details. 

Abel stopped before a door along the corridor, pausing before he slowly turned the handle and opened it to reveal Bear’s nursery. The room was dark, but in the faint light in the hallway, Monika could see a crumpled blanket and pillow on the floor. Her heart ached as she watched Abel step over the mess to approach the crib. How many nights had he spent on the floor, lying awake, agonizing over the absence of his wife? Standing in the doorway, Monika felt like she was intruding on the moment, but she couldn’t look away, couldn’t stop herself from entering the room, trailing behind him until she was standing a half-step behind him. Lifting her hand, she placed it on his back as a sign of her wordless support. 

The walk to Bear’s nursery felt endless with Monika’s perfume stuck in his head. He kept his eyes straight ahead with every step, knowing where every picture was placed and just how to avoid it. He’d never wanted to do half the photoshoots that Ava had talked him into. He hadn’t being in front of the camera, despite his years of practice. It was always pretending to be something they weren’t, but perhaps Ava had thought they were. Maybe she truly had believed they were the perfect family and maybe eventually he could’ve too. At least that’s what he always told himself with every day that passed.

Abel moved toward his child’s crib slowly as if guided by the gentle touch on his back. How was he still terrified of his own kid? The man leaned over slightly, catching a full view of Bear still knocked as if nothing in the world could’ve touched him. “I remember the night we brought him home,” he mumbled quietly, eyes never leaving his son. “I was so afraid of hurting him that a nurse to put him in the carseat. When we got home, my mom was already there. It’s like she knew,” he laughed, feeling his eyes burn as tears dared to spill onto tanned cheeks. “Ava told me he wasn’t nearly as fragile as I thought he was, but how do you look at something so small and not be scared?” While he’d moved past the fear of accidentally hurting Bear, another fear had took over entirely. What if he wasn’t able to support the needs of his son? What if being a father wasn’t nearly as natural as he’d always assumed it to be? “I don’t know what I’m going to tell him if...,” he paused, unable to say the words aloud. If Ava never returned, how did he explain that in the future?

[blogname01]

finalities‌ / monika.

It was difficult to hide the tears from him as he pulled away, completely disentangling himself from her. Monika kept her head down, wiping at her cheeks. Don’t apologize. It was all she felt capable of doing in the moment; the only suitable measure to make up for the thoughts racing through her head. She had been the one to start, to lean away first. And yet, she found herself feeling rebuffed by his move to put distance between them. Even if it gave her space to calm her thunderous pulse. She nodded when mentioned checking in on Bear. The house was deathly quiet; for only a moment, she’d forgotten that they weren’t completely alone, and that his son was sleeping upstairs, blissfully unaware of everything, unable to comprehend that his mother was missing and his father was struggling to cope. “Yeah,” she said, sniffling as she turned away from him and toward the counter, resting her hands on the cool marble. Her glass was so close, nearly in reach. “You should check on him. I’ll… I’ll stay here.” If he was going to leave the room, she didn’t want to watch him go. 

He could never blame her for the way he felt. It wasn’t her fault she was everything his heart craved, even after all those years apart. It wasn’t her fault he looked at his wedding ring at times and wondered why he’d vowed his life away to a woman he’d never be able to give his all. They’d made a family and while things were starting to look forward, Abel couldn’t let go of the summer before. “Come with me?” he exhaled, unsure why he’d made the offer when her back was towards him. He needed a second to breathe, but being away from her in a moment like this? That seemed like a harder pill to swallow than he wanted. “Odds are he’s probably still knocked, but if he’s not, I could use some backup.” If anyone was going to show him the way of nurturing a child, it was Monika. If that would offer a distraction to the dark places his mind lingered to, then it was something he was willing to try. “Please?”

[blogname01]

finalities‌ / monika.

Monika’s breath hitched as Abel stood and drew her into an embrace. Her hand on his shoulder fell away to settle tentatively on his back as his arm wound around her, pulling her flush against him. Could he feel her heart hammering in her chest? Could he hear the way her breathing had changed? Could he sense that she was seconds away from breaking down in his arms? Her bottom lip quivered as he thanked her, and her eyes filled with tears once more. Emotion rose steadily in her throat; at the risk of having it all tumble out, she was afraid to speak. But the silence was too much for her to bear. “Of course,” she mumbled into the fabric of his shirt, and immediately resented how her voice cracked on the last syllable. How could she find any comfort in this ⏤ standing here in his arms, in the house he shared with his wife, as ten days had passed without any news of her whereabouts? Ava could be out there somewhere, gravely injured or in a situation far more dire. And here Monika was, comforting the woman’s husband, entertaining such lurid memories, all the while trying to hold it together long enough to avoid making matters worse. Abel had enough on his plate. “I’m so sorry,” she said softly, pulling away slightly. “I’m sorry about Ava. I’m sorry about everything.”

Despite everyone labeling him strong, Abel knew he was weak. He couldn’t deny the way his heart raced every time the phone rang. He couldn’t wash down the sadness he got every time he looked at his own son that resembled his mother more so than his father. How was he supposed to care for a child without his wife? How was he supposed to do anything without his wife? It was only when Monika pulled away that Abel felt his facade falter. She could encourage him all she wanted with her kind words, but it ultimately, it changed nothing. He was a man in love with someone else, trapped in a nightmare with a missing wife and a child he felt out of place caring for. Perhaps it would’ve been better for Bear to stay with his own mother, but Abel couldn’t stand the thought of staying in the house alone. “Don’t,” he hummed, pulling back entirely, head shaking. “Don’t apologize,” he added, temptation to down the entire bottle of tequila all too strong. He couldn’t do that, not with his son upstairs. “I should probably check on him. Just to make sure he’s okay.” It was the only thing that was going to keep him from the bottle, even with Monika standing before him.

[blogname01]

finalities‌ / monika.

Monika’s heart was in her throat as she regarded him, her pulse a steady rhythm in her ears as her gaze traveled over his face. “I miss you, too,” she whispered, and it still felt deafeningly loud in the silence of his kitchen. The irony of his words was not lost on her. After all, it had been Abel who had left all those years ago, Abel who had moved on, Abel who had married first and started a family. She could never fault him for chasing his dreams, but she still remembered the renewed heartbreak of seeing his picture splashed across the gossip rags at the grocery store checkout, in various paparazzi photos depicting him with different women. And then the news of his engagement to Ava, followed by the Save the Date for their wedding. She had been so happy to see him so content, but she’d never been able to swallow down the grief of losing him completely. Her sadness was palpable now as she looked him in the eye, wordlessly willing him to understand that she’d been here all along, and she wasn’t going anywhere. “You take it one day at a time,” she said, moving her hand to his shoulder, the movement drawing her closer to where he sat. “And I’ll be here. I’m not going to let you go through this alone. I promise.”

He hadn’t expected her to say anything back, especially not the words he wanted so desperately to hear. Monika was everything he’d ever wanted, but at the same time, everything he didn’t think he deserved. He’d been the one to leave for LA without looking back and she’d been the one who supported him through it. Maybe, just maybe if he’d been a bit more patient, he could’ve had it all. Or, maybe if he’d reached out like he wanted to all those years ago, things could’ve been different. Nodding, Abel stood from his chair, free arm looping around her frame gently as he pulled he closer into his chest. If she wanted to pull away, he wouldn’t blame her, but he craved the comfort in her touch. “Thank you,” he hummed against the top of her head, arms closed firmly around her. He couldn’t remember the last time he’d felt so at peace in the last ten days, but having her in arms offered him just that. Missing wife or not, Monika was still his safe place.

[blogname01]

finalities‌ / monika.

How could Monika believe herself to be a bad person for what had transpired between them and not think the same of Abel for his role in it all? It was so much easier to demonize her own actions and the desire that had flowed through her like the tequila was now, making her face warm, loosening her tongue. The alcohol, mixed with a resurgence of the feelings she’d tried to keep at bay for so long, made her feel far more drunk than she could possibly be on tequila alone. God, how could one person get her so flustered, so easily? The effect he had on her was unlike anything she’d experienced with anyone, except for maybe her husband. But as her eyes drifted down to Abel’s lips, and her mind flooded with thoughts of that fateful summer afternoon, she knew that what she felt with each of the two men was incomparable. Incomparable not because she was married to one and mourning the could-have-beens with the other, but because she was just shy of the realization that she’d never truly love Sebastian the way she loved Abel. “You’re not a horrible person,” Monika assured him, reaching out to grasp his arm in a show of physical comfort. “You’re… perfectly human, with complex emotions. That doesn’t make you horrible. It makes you real.” She squeezed his arm lightly, hoping he would accept what she was saying. 

He was better than this; better than the asshole everyone had assumed he’d turn into once he hit the spotlight. Even while on the road with plenty of opportunities, Abel was never tempted. He kept his down and performed as he was asked; everything else was merely background noise. Still, as he sat in the privacy of his own kitchen, he found it hard not to reach out and close what little distance stayed between them. Gaze shifted to her touch, which somehow only left him wanting more. “I miss you,” he hummed, words sweet like honey dripping from his lips. He missed her in every single way possible, but what he missed most was the comfort she never failed to offer. While everyone else rattled off cliche words to make him feel better, she put forth action and showed just how much she wanted to support him. “I don’t know how I’m supposed to do this,” he trailed off, eyes finding hers once more, “but I’ll figure it out. Just don’t leave.” Losing Ava was one thing, but losing Monika too? He couldn’t.

[blogname01]

finalities‌

Monika kept her eyes averted from Abel as heat bloomed in her cheeks, a potent combination of the truths they were sharing and the alcohol working through her system. The tremor in her hand was impossible to hide as her fingers brushed across the wetness on her cheek, wiping away the tears that had spilled over. She hated how quick she was to tears. “I still kissed you back. I didn’t have to, but I did. More than once. And I wanted to.” Finally, slowly, her line of sight shifted across the room to him, settling on his face, searching for any indication that she was making a grave mistake, being so honest. It was hardly the time, considering the circumstances. “It doesn’t make me a good person, even if it was one time,” she said quietly, gaze locked on him. Despite the nervous energy flowing through her, she felt bold. Her hand fell to rest atop the counter, inches from his. The desire to touch him was unravelling her on the inside. “But I didn’t care about it in the moment. Because you made me feel good.” A light huff of air passed between her lips, a faint exhale, before she mumbled: “Better than good.”

More than anything, Abel wanted his wife back home. At least if she was there, he could continue to live with the fact that he’d screwed up. Maybe once she got home safe, he’d tell her everything. If their marriage survived it, then so be it. If it didn’t, then he got the satisfaction of coming clean. It was wishful thinking, considering it’d been ten days since her disappearance, but he held out hope. “I don’t know what I would’ve done if you hadn’t of kissed me back. I don’t know what I was thinking.” Clearly, he hadn’t been. Not only had he put his marriage in jeopardy, but he’d risked hers too. One time was more than enough to make him need another; to make him need something more. It hadn’t been his call to make the summer before and it wasn’t his to make now as tequila settled on his lips and jumbled his thoughts. “I’d do it all over again if I could.” Bold statement coming from a man with a missing wife. Then again, Ava had been on the back burner of his thoughts for longer than the ten days she’d been missing. “Does that make me a horrible person?”

[blogname01]

finalities‌ / monika.

The relief (and, however slight, satisfaction) of having Abel echo the sentiment that every close call, ever near-miss, had been worth the trouble was washed away by the shock of his admission that he was unsure he’d ever trusted them together. Monika stood frozen before him, fingers stilled around her glass, feeling like she’d had the wind knocked out of her. His words repeated in her head once more: I know I shouldn’t think about it, but I do. Was this the time for her to come clean, to tell him the mistake they’d made was one that had played over in her mind in the days that followed, too, and far beyond that? Tears filled her eyes. She could never truly hide emotion on her face, not when it surfaced like this, in a sudden rush of exhilarating fear. Looking away from him, she fixed her blurry gaze on the entrance to the hallway where it had all happened. “And I shouldn’t have kissed you back. But I did,” Monika replied, blinking furiously to keep the tears from falling. “I wanted it. I wanted you. I don’t know how I live with that.”

Whether Sebastian or Ava liked it, Monika would always be a part of him. She taught him to love, to possess patience and enjoy the small things that life had to offer, and she pushed him to do better and be better. When the offer from LA had been put on the table, despite their budding relationship, she hadn’t asked him to stay. If that wasn’t an act of selfless love, he wasn’t quite sure what was. "I’m the one who kissed you,” he shrugged, head shaking, “you were only reacting.” That’s what he’d wanted to believe, because at least if that were true, it would mean there wasn’t a chance. “It was one time. It doesn’t make you a horrible person. You’re good, Monika. You’ve always been good.” And she’d always be good, no matter what she did.

[blogname01]

finalities‌ / monika.

“Of course,” Monika said, and allowed the conversation to end there. He had to know that she had been among the volunteers who canvassed the town’s wooded areas. It wasn’t an effort she had been able to participate in with any regularity, as the school year had wound down around the time the daily searches began, but on the days she’d been able to carve out time, she made it a priority. It was the least she could do. Now that she would be lending her time to Abel, she figured her appearances for canvassing would be limited, but both were helpful to maintain the sanity of the family Ava left behind and searching for anything that would help bring her home.

In a way, it would be her way of paying penance for the thoughts that raced through her mind now. The recollection of times spent doing more than stargazing or watching movies. The afternoons spent exploring each other’s bodies in Monika’s narrow bed, learning every freckle and curve, translating each sound the other made. The night he spoke of brought up an intense memory of innocent kissing that led to something far less pure. “We had a lot of close calls,” she murmured, her finger tracing the edge of her glass. “That was definitely the closest. But it was worth it, every time.” It was only when the words left her mouth that she realized how inappropriate the comment was, but there was no way of taking them back. Swallowing another sip of tequila, she glanced away, hoping he wouldn’t see the faint panic in her face.

It was only when he answered her that her gaze returned to his face. What had she expected, if not the truth, that telling his spouse would have posed a risk for their relationship? For similar reasons, she’d elected not to disclose the history they shared to her husband, but mostly out of fear that Sebastian’s jealous nature would rear its ugly head, as it had before. Ava had exhibited a similar air of suspicion before, for things far less serious. So why did it sting to get confirmation that he’d kept them a secret, just as she had? “I, um ⏤ I understand,” she said, nodding slowly. The incident in the laundry room the previous summer came to mind. Tentatively, her voice slightly above a whisper, she added: “There have been times I haven’t trusted us, either.”

A missing wife was one way to tear him down, but if anything happened to Monika too? He’d be downright useless. It wasn’t fair to think like that, but nothing seemed fair anymore. Life was unfair, or so he’d be told by countless people. God, if only they knew how right they actually were. “We did,” he grinned, feeling a slight tug of heat settling in his stomach. It was hard to forget the nights she’d wrapped herself around him on that family couch. If her moms had ever found out, he was sure they’d would’ve burned it to the ground along with everything Monika owned. “It was.” That was something he couldn’t easily agree to. Close calls or not, riding out his high with her had been a feeling unmatched, Ava included. 

The break in her words made his heart beat harder. Did she understand? Did that hurt? He half wondered if she’d ever told her husband, but the nights they’d came over for dinner told him that she hadn’t. If she had, there was no way she’d be there before him, right? “I don’t know that I’ve ever trusted us,” he admitted, eyes still trained on hers. It was as honest as he’d ever been about what lingered between them, but he didn’t expect the same to come from her. She still had her marriage and a husband that should’ve been waiting at home for her return.

“I know I shouldn’t think about it, but I do.” It was a dangerous confession, one that would potentially break every single offer she’d already made. “I shouldn’t have kissed you that day, Monika, but I did.” And he hadn’t stopped thinking about it since.

[blogname01]

finalities‌ / monika.

Abel’s acceptance of her offer was less emphatic than she’d anticipated it would be, but a simple “fine” sufficed, because it meant that a continued debate about his inability to accept help had been put to rest. They would have to discuss specifics, including the type of work that needed to be done around the house, to free up time for him to spend with his son, and the timing of said assistance, to be mindful of the many sets of eyes that were watching his every move, every reaction as the investigation carried on. But for the time being, Monika was content to have him own up to the fact that he needed an extra set of hands, and that he wasn’t inconveniencing her in the process. 

She was equally grateful that he didn’t push the topic of her husband’s involvement in her emotional affairs surrounding Ava’s disappearance. Sebastian had always exuded an air of friendly competition with Abel, one that the musician sometimes rose to; she supposed it might have been an intrinsic quality about her partner, a natural streak of arrogance that made him a good doctor, that was behind his consistent quest to one-up his company. The prospect of having to explain away his emotional and physical absences any further would have unleashed a torrent of emotion that Monika wasn’t prepared to handle. Not with Abel, and not now. Not when his wife was missing, and not as he poured her more tequila. 

Her eyes lit up as he explained away his past reactions to the mid-range liquor. “Excuses, excuses,” she said with a wave of her hand. It was easy to speak of their past in a sentimental albeit detached manner, like it happened to someone else, a million years ago. But Monika knew the feelings she’d had for him as a teenager ⏤ that can’t sleep, can’t eat kind of young love ⏤ had never truly faded, even after he’d left to pursue a career in music. Even after he’d married another woman. “I think my moms knew a lot more than they let on. That twin bed creaked something fierce, and the walls were pretty thin. They trusted us.” She accepted her refill from him with a quiet thank you and swirled the clear tequila around in her glass, grinning over at him. All efforts to reminisce without the stab of regret were quickly foiled as his recounting of the great Thanksgiving disaster gave way to other memories. Her grin faltered as she thought about the firsts they shared. Abel had been her first love, her first kiss, her first heartbreak. Her first everything. It had been a careful detail she’d omitted to anyone when he’d come back into her life all of those years after he left their hometown for Los Angeles. She wasn’t sure where the lie had begun, but once they’d committed to it, there was no going back. “Did Ava know?” she asked quietly, pausing in need of another sip of liquid courage to continue. “Did you ever tell her about us?”

He couldn’t help but wonder if Ava was actually going to come back. He’d watched enough crime shows to know how this all worked. Twenty four hours missing was a start, but anything over seventy two was nothing but bad news. It’d been ten whole days and nothing had been found, not even the smallest of leads. He would’ve been a downright idiot not to consider the facts, but Abel was hopeful. She couldn’t be anything other than missing, perhaps lost? Maybe she’d gone for a run after work and took a fall? Or maybe she was desperate for some time alone? Anything would’ve made more sense than her demise.

Abel couldn’t fight the rage that bubbled in his chest. Perhaps there was a hint of jealousy buried deep too. How did one man get the pleasure of loving Monika and the satisfaction of missing another. Then again, if roles were reversed, he would’ve been searching every damn square mile of their town and everywhere else around them. In terms of looking for his own wife, they’d practically begged him not to. They wanted him separate from the case itself, only leaving him to believe that he too was being considered a suspect. “Be careful out there,” he added, not wanting to push any further on the topic. If Sebastian gave a shit, he would’ve already given that warning. Odds were, he hadn’t.

“How many nights did I outdrink you? Pretty sure I took care of you more nights than you took care of me.” All by choice, of course. She was a smart woman. She knew how to handle her own. “That bed,” he grinned, memories filling his head that only caused him further frustrations. “Do you remember,” he paused, wondering it was even appropriate. It was a memory, it had to be. “Do you remember the time they almost caught us on the couch? They were supposed to be out for a date night or something and they called it an early night." It was the first time he’d ever feared for his life, but they’d managed to make a save just in time. They always managed to escape trouble, but their messiest fall had been their last, and Abel accepted the blame entirely. “No.” It wasn’t that he hadn’t wanted to tell her, it was that he couldn’t. “If I would’ve told her, everything would’ve ended there.” He knew his wife and he knew the heart she had. “She would’ve never trusted us together and I wouldn’t blame her for that.” After all, they’d nearly screwed a summer earlier and to say that hadn’t crossed his mind since would’ve been a lie. “I couldn’t tell her.”

[blogname01]

finalities‌ / monika.

Monika was well aware of how it looked ⏤ to the community, to police, to anyone who had caught wind of the case. When a woman went missing, everyone looked to the man in her life. It’s always the husband. The adage had been repeated all over town any number of times in the preceding ten days, each repetition more cruel than the last. It didn’t help that Abel was a public figure, or that his wife was the particular brand of beautiful and innocent that the media loved to canonize. But Monika had looked into his heart before, and although the time that stretched between the present and their lovesick teenage years was long enough to have allowed them to move apart and move on, she knew he was innocent. If his mother couldn’t be bothered, at the risk of having her sabotage her business, Monika wanted to be the one to step up, and she felt comfortable making the proposition. “So let me help. Cooking, laundry, watching Bear. The school year’s over; I just finished report cards last night. I have the time. And there’s hardly a line forming behind me,” she added, teasing lightly. “Say yes.”

The private investigator seemed like a viable approach to filling in the gaps. While she trusted that he had done the homework to hire someone competent and capable of handling such a sensitive case, she hoped that he hadn’t been blinded by his desire for answers. She wasn’t sure he could handle such a devastating blow if the investigation turned up nothing. With a nod, she allowed herself another sip of tequila, wincing once more as it slid across her tongue. She needed to pace herself; she was already feeling light-headed in his presence. The twitch in his jaw tipped her off that he was less than pleased about Sebastian’s methods for handling things, but she said nothing. She had already quietly accepted it. No amount of explaining would change Abel’s mind. “He’s checking on me, too,” she lied, before finishing off the tequila in her glass. So much for taking it slow. Heat crept into her face as she watched him scrub a hand through his beard, her eyes following the movement of his fingers as he recounted a tale from their past. “You scared the shit out of me. I was somehow more scared about you than the punishment we were going to get from our moms for drinking,” Monika said lowly, a faint smile pulling at her lips as she recalled the memory. It was funnier in hindsight. “And yet we went straight back to it,” she added, sliding her empty glass closer to him for a refill. A wordless indication that she wasn’t ready to quit. “That’s a common thread here, isn’t it? Everything coming full circle.”

The offer wasn’t entirely unexpected, but hearing the words fall from her lips still caught a knot to form in the pit of his stomach. How shitty was it that he wanted to say yes? That he felt like doing so would heal something within him? Seeing her around more? God, what more did he need? Other than his wife coming home to rekindle the marriage that had started to fall apart before them. Did Ava spend her final normal days thinking he’d fallen out of love with her? Had she wondered where their marriage was headed? Or had the stress of a child been the blame behind the petty arguments and late nights without sleep? Was she somewhere wondering if he was even looking? “Fine,” he replied, against every pulling force in his mind telling him no. It was a bad idea; bad for the press and bad for her marriage. There was no way Sebastian would allow her to play helpful friend to the man she’d once loved. Then again, did he even know their past? For Abel, he wasn’t even sure it mattered. It’d always felt like a silent pissing contest, but Ava had just assured it was the man’s personality type. Don’t worry, babe. He’s just screwing with you. Right, Ava. He is and it’s working.

He wanted to believe that Sebastian was checking in on the woman he’d vowed his life to, but what kind of man disappeared in a moment of heartbreak? Wasn’t he considering that maybe Monika was hurting too? Or that, just maybe she wondered if the same could ever happen to her? “Okay,” he nodded, not wanting to push. It wasn’t his business and if she wanted to talk, he knew she would. Without words, Abel got up from his chair to refill her cup with ice. She hadn’t asked him to, but he knew how she liked her booze. “Look, it was obviously because I hadn’t eaten anything and not because I was a lightweight back then. I told you I was fine. I just need to rest my eyes a bit,” he grinned, tipping over the tequila bottle to give a little more. It was almost as full as his, but the ice was to blame. “Do you remember the first night I stayed over at your place and your moms totally walked in on us sleeping. You told them we fell asleep talking,” he grinned, only pausing to take a small drink. “Your bra was on the floor beside my shirt,” he added, innocent grin now a devilish smirk. “Or the Thanksgiving I totally screwed up the dressing because I wasn’t paying attention to what you told me to add.” He could’ve brought up memories all night, but each stung more than the last. 

[blogname01]

finalities‌ / monika.

Monika’s expression sobered as Abel aired his frustrations. She couldn’t fault him for feeling the pressures of handling it all on his own, especially with the watchful eyes of the town on him. The rumors had been vicious. “Anyone questioning your ability to take care of your son is not anyone you should be paying any mind to,” she said, voice unwavering in her conviction. “This is your life and your son, Abel, not theirs. The police are trying to be helpful, but they can’t put themselves in your shoes. They don’t know what it feels like.” There was some truth to the suggestion that had been set forth by the people investigating. “Have you considered maybe having Debra stay here? She could help out, and it would save her the drive into town.” She hoped he would see the benefit of having his mother nearby, rather than the prospect of sending his son away. It was a compromise, in a way; extra help without losing anything, except maybe his solitude.

The news that he’d hired a private investigator didn’t surprise her. It was a logical step given his frustrations with the police. “That’s good,” she affirmed. “I hope he finds something. Good news.” There was no real way of knowing if the local force was doing everything they possibly could. Magnolia Gardens hadn’t seen such a high-profile disappearance in what had to be at least a decade, long before Monika called it home. “Sebastian?” Monika asked, clarifying his question, as if he could be implying anyone else in the world. “No, he’s at the hospital. He scheduled surgeries tonight. He’s… been keeping busy.” He’s been avoiding me, she wanted to say, but managed to bite back. Abel had enough on his plate, she didn’t need to bring her marital disquiet into the mix. “I think he’s taking it hard. You know they’re close. He thinks the world of Ava.” Her thumb brushed against the inside of his wrist then, as if to say like I think the world of you, before she pulled away under the guise of reaching for her drink. Her eyes didn’t leave his as she took a sip of the tequila. It was just like she’d remembered, maybe worse, a cool fire burning down the back of her throat. She grimaced slightly. “Just like old times.”

When you’d spent over the last ten years in the spotlight, it was hard to have spotless reputation. If anyone came close to it though, it would’ve been him. He didn’t bother with scandals, parties, drugs, or anything that most artists seemed to dabble in upon wealth. He’d kept his head down and made more music than any newcomer could’ve ever dream of. Still, straight and narrow or not, everyone would question a man with everything to gain from a missing wife. “I feel like one minute they’re wanting to help me, the next they’re wanting to interrogate me.” He couldn’t blame them; he knew how it looked. Had he been on the other side of it, he would’ve thought the same damn thing. “I can’t do that. She’s got the business to keep up. I know she’d close it down for however long I needed, but I can’t let her do that. She worries enough and I know if she stays here, it’ll just give her more to worry about.” As much as it would’ve helped to have a helping hand, he couldn’t afford to let his mother see him so weak. It’d break her.

“He’s looking into her day at the hospital. What it looked like, who she talked to, if she left with anyone after her shift. He’s supposed to give me a call in a few days once he’s got something to start with. He’s good, Monika. He’s real good.” He’d put so much faith into the man, that if nothing was found, he’d shatter. Nodding, Abel bit back any words that could’ve possibly left his lips. God, what a fucking jackass. He’s taking it hard? They were close? It was almost comical how jealousy ate the artist alive. How was it that one man got the satisfaction of hurting and the comfort of another? Both of which had caught Abel’s eye, both now out of reach. “I’m sure he is,” he replied, jaw clenched tight to avoid any rage from seeping through gritted teeth. He should. “He should be checking on you too.” Maybe they weren’t close, but it couldn’t have been easy knowing a woman her own age had up and vanished. Lips parted to further question her, but the chance to drink overtook the moment entirely. Wash it down, Thomas. “Like old times,�� he nodded, throwing back his glass without considering the burn. One shot, two shot, gone. Without hesitation, Abel poured himself another round, this time only stopping once the whiskey glass was half full. Parted from her touch, Abel sank into his seat, fingers tapping the sides of his glass before he ran a gentle hand through his beard. “Do you remember the first time we drank this? I’m pretty sure I had half the bottle and thought I was going to die. I had to beg you not to call mom.”

[blogname01]

finalities‌ / monika.

“Why are you resistant to accepting help? Is it pride, or are you scared about how it’ll look? Is that it? You’re afraid of looking weak? Your wife is missing, Abel. You’re allowed a moment of weakness. You don’t have to be strong through all of this.” No matter how carefully she chose her words, how gently she delivered them, Monika knew her urging would sound a little harsh. But he had to accept the reality that he couldn’t do it all alone. No one in his position could. It was too much to bear on his own, and he wasn’t able to self-destruct when he had a child to care for. “You have a son that needs you, and if you keep burning the candle at both ends, you’re going to burn out. And then what? He needs you.“ She regarded him carefully, searching for any sign that maybe she’d overstepped, even though she knew he needed to hear it. 

Instead, his fingers played delicately along her palm to no particular rhythm, fingertips exploring her skin. Monika’s lips pressed together, her expressing belying the sudden uptick in her heart rate. “We don’t have any answers. It’s not fair to speculate,” she said softly, straining to keep her voice even. “I’m sure the police are exploring every possibility. That’s their job, not yours. I know it’s easier said than done, but you can’t get caught up in all of the what ifs.” Rich coming from her, given the hours she’d lost to ruminating on every possibility that could have existed between the two of them. One change along the way and they would be living very different lives than they were now. “It’s good to see you, too. I wish it was under better circumstances.” If she didn’t move, she was certain they’d spend the next half-hour like this, his fingertips accelerating her pulse, her eyes watching him as he fixed his gaze on their point of contact. “You should eat before your food gets cold,” she said, making no effort to shift away from him. The ice in her drink was melting; she could hear it shifting in the glass just out of reach. 

“I don’t know,” he shrugged, frustrated slightly by her ability to pull whatever the hell she wanted to know straight from his stubborn lips. “I don’t want anyone questioning my ability to take care of Bear, even for a second. My cops keep telling me that maybe it’s a good idea he stay with my mom until this is sorted. Who the hell are they to tell me what’s best for my kid?” He’d never been a fighter, but when it came to his son? He’d fight until the end of time. Maybe he was learning the ropes of a single parent, but not once had he neglected his son, emotions spiraling or not. Nodding, Abel swallowed down all protests, defeated by her bold statement that rang too close to the broken home he was trying to keep standing. “I need him too.” He’d never needed anyone the way he needed his son. If someone was going to come close to that though, it was Monika. It would always be Monika.

“It’s hard not to think about things when it’s everywhere. I get calls, texts, emails. I see the stuff they’re saying on the news.” It didn’t look good, any of it. If she was out there, somewhere, she would’ve came home by now, right? “I don’t even know if I trust them. I hired a guy.” A private investigator a friend of a friend had recommended. His price was high, but his work was impeccable and Abel would’ve assumed he was arguably one of the best. “He’s looking into things for me, y’know, to catch the stuff the police are getting. He hasn’t found anything yet, but I trust him.” While it was a private matter, he also trusted Monika to keep a secret. If anyone was going to direct him in the best path, it was her. “Does he know you’re here?” Eyes lifted from their hands, his tired eyes finding hers. Fingers paused against her skin, lingering there in fear of separation.