Soulmates & Twin Flames

15 - Happy Birthday, Abby

I wake up on the couch in the middle of the night. My apartment is dark, empty, and tidy. Olga and Daniel must have cleaned up after I dozed off.

Well, happy birthday to me.

I sit up and rub my face, still tasting the chocolate cake from earlier.

A mixture of wind and car noises thrum on the windows. My phone is lying next to a small black box on the coffee table. Nate's gift... Gliding my fingers on the velvet box with a sleepy smile, I flip the lid open. It's a necklace. Nate got me a ruby heart with diamond wings! A tiny roll of paper is tucked into the soft cushion underneath it.

'I'll catch your heart when you set it free.
Happy birthday, Abby.'

My stupid smile grows and hurts my cheeks. I kick off my heels and grab my phone to thank Nate as I drag my feet to bed.

'I love the necklace.' I hit send. My smile disappears when I remember how he brought two models to my apartment. He must be having sex with them right now. The chocolatey taste in my mouth suddenly turns bitter. 'So lucky to have you as a friend.'

I throw myself on the bed with a growl. Fuck... My head feels like a wildly-shaken snow globe. Being drunk on wine is the worst, makes you feel shittier and lonelier than you really are.

When the world stills again, I lay on my side, pull my knees up to my chest, and scroll through my birthday messages. My dad, a couple of friends, group chats, some clients... Their distant love hurts my heart.

I stop scrolling when I find an old text from an unknown number. My eyes linger on the preview that says, Drinks tonight?

Roman! I thought I'd deleted all of his texts. Yet here he is.

Blood rushes to my face. My heart skips a beat as I tap his thread and squint. Does it say 'Online' at the top of the page? Why would he be online at two am?

My fingertips suddenly feel numb and itchy.

"Roman," I type and whisper in need.

And instead of deleting it, I hit send.

Blue double ticks. Read.

Typing...

Fuck. Fuck. Fuck! My heart is beating frantically. Am I dreaming?

'On my way.'

I choke on my breath and start coughing. What does he mean? Is he coming here? What have I done? What am I supposed to do?

I grab the water bottle by my bedside with shaky hands, then finish it all in one big gulp. Is his text still there?

I tap my screen.

Yep, it's here.

I slap myself, then check the screen again.

'On my way.'

I run to the bathroom to wash my face. Great, now my makeup is a mess. I clean it all, brush my teeth, fix my bangs and—fuck. What am I doing?

I start pacing up and down in my bedroom. What do I do? Do I text him and tell him not to come? Do I call him? Do I let him in?

Do I have condoms?

I slap myself. Don't go there. You are not having sex with him. He isn't yours. He fucked you in his office, ghosted you, then got engaged to someone else. I grab my phone with shaky hands and start typing, "Don't you dare come here asshole..." But then my intercom buzzes and makes me jump.

I stare at the dark corridor through my bedroom door. What do I do?

The angry, intermittent ringing continues. The building's door thuds with impatient knocks. Fuck, he's going to wake my neighbors up!