Vol.4 Rewrite, Chapter XXIII — The Weight of a Promise (Vol.4 Final Chapter)

I was jolted awake in the middle of the night, feeling like someone suddenly punched me in the gut, but there was no one to do so as only Abby was there, half-covering me with her tiny body. No, what was going on was that, and it came with a vengeance since last month it went by easily enough. A few jabs, me getting a bit moody, stuff like that, a walk in the park compared to this. The churning in my stomach, the pain in my lower back that radiated down to my legs, the blazing pins and needles in my lower stomach… and of course, there was also now the anger, hot and heavy, for being woken up by my own stupid body. Self-pity came flooding too, a whiny voice in my head reminding me that this was in all likelihood my life for the next week, my eyes swelling up with stubborn tears as a result. It wasn’t three o’clock in the night. No, it was hell o’clock.

And then, there came a crushing anxiety that obfuscated everything.

Abby!

If I was this miserable, she might be too despite it being very unlikely. Was she also lying awake, wrestling with cramps and a sudden, irrational urge to cry?

I looked at her immediately, fearful of what condition I might find her in. My heart sunk in my chest once I saw her through the dark.

She was snuggled to me, her breathing calm as she peacefully slept, a partial smile from being close to me, held like the dear girlfriend that she is, adorning her face. An adorable drooling angel besides me, barely making a sound as she lightly snored. I was awash with relief, tears starting to flow, and then, a darker emotion that made me feel anger and disgust towards myself. How could I feel envy of her?

“Hic! Hic!”

I tried my best, but I simply couldn’t hold my sobs down, them shaking my pained body, seemingly intensifying the pain. And as to be expected of Abby, in her dreams, she realised I wasn’t well, so she quickly woke up.

“Babe?” she called softly, her voice barely a whisper as she turned on a light. “What’s wrong?”

“Sorry,” I sobbed, barely coherent, my hands hiding my face. “My… hic! My hormones.”

“Aww, Violet,” she said in a pained, lamenting voice, her hand gently coming to rest over my lower stomach. “Is it a really bad one?”

I felt a shot of anger over her “stupid question”, but luckily, I managed to hold back the harsh words that welled in my chest.

I nodded, unable to talk with so many raging emotions in my chest.

“Ok, let me take care of you,” she told me, her voice calm and reassuring.

She tried to get up, but I instinctively grabbed her, the moment her warm hand left my lower stomach appearing to make the pain there even worse. I pleaded her to not leave me alone, realising how stupid it sounded even before she told me she was just going to get me some medication.

She went and came with quick, small steps, trying to stay quiet in the night, not disturbing her sister and father. I took the medicine she handed me before she made me lay on my stomach. Sitting on my butt, she gave my lower back a long and much appreciated massage that felt painful at first but quickly mellowed into a balm. Then, she made me go back to laying belly up and she sat on my lower stomach, moving her hips and shifting her weight in a grindy motion, the pressure of her body feeling like it was squeezing out the discomfort, at least partially, her hands holding mine.

All the while, I sobbed like that folklore character I recently had read about, “La Llorona”, unable to form a sentence, but Abby, as expected, understood all of my attempts.

“I love you too, babe” she said when I tried to say that I loved her, and “don’t worry about it” when I tried to apologise for making her do all this for me and so late at night, and “that’s just how it is, we just have to deal with it a day at a time” when I wanted to whine about my condition and forecast for the rest of the week. And that ability to understand me telepathically made me cry even harder.

“Do you wanna eat something?” she asked me once I managed to calm down. “I’m kinda hungry right now.”

I gave her a weak nod, feeling a deep craving now that she mentioned food.

“Something with lots of cheese… very greasy… and garlic. Lots of garlic.”

She smiled and nodded, saying that it sounded like a nice thing to have, calling it “comfort food”.

She then laid flat on me for a kiss and told me to go along with her to the kitchen. I didn’t want to move, but while watching her putting on some shorts and a shirt that belonged to me, I understood that she had me even better figured out than I give her credit for, which is to say, a whole lot more. My heart was already aching with loneliness, and thinking about facing the discomfort I was in alone, even if only for a few minutes, was hellish. So, I got up and put on some clothes too and immediately moved over to her, hunched and slightly limping, wanting to hug Abby from behind. I didn’t even had my arms raised for that and she was already grabbing my hands to guide them around her.

“Let’s go, you silly girl,” she chirped, her hands on my elbows as my arms draped over her front, like this was a normal day.

Unfortunately, a normal day this was not, and we were barely able to sleep all thanks to me. I did start to feel better after the medicine kicked in and I had some food—the delicious, indulgent, food that I seemingly couldn’t get enough of despite feeling like puking by the end of it—and Abby’s dedicated nursing, but it was still pretty bad. In fact, this was the worst case of PMS I had ever had.

As such, we decided not to go to school that day. Abby maybe could have endured it, but she still hadn’t slept all that much, and she simply couldn’t leave me alone like this, bless her heart.

“I really lucked out with you,” I told her for the… who knows what time.

“Hehe! Same!” Abby bubbled, moving her head to smooch my cheek. “Otherwise, why would I be here right now?”

And where is “here” exactly?

I had grown tired of staying in bed, so we moved over to the couch to watch some television. That wasn’t without its hurdles though as my humours were unstable.

“Why is the narrator so giddy?” I grumbled when his voice got to my nerves suddenly as we tried watching a documentary. Abby lowered the volume, of the television then.

“Damned doggy, making me cry!” I sobbed during an ad for animal food. Abby comforted me then.

You get the gist of it, I was being a huge pain to deal with, while Abby made her absolute best to keep me comfortable. That in itself also got a bit on my nerves, but my love for her was stronger, so I always managed to push those feelings down and not shout at her to stop treating me like some delicate flower. And truth be told, I was being that, and more.

Abby sat on her usual place, between my legs, but today, I was even more wrapped around her, Abby being the best comforter I could ask for. Nothing could beat her warmth, her softness, her… everything. I honestly can’t imagine a day like this without her there to support me. That was also why, for as long as I lived, I’d never say something hurtful to her.

“Babe?”

“Hmm?”

“Sorry, but I’m kinda feeling a bit restless. Do you mind if I get up for a bit so I can move my body around?”

That reminded me of something else that happened before we got out of bed and came to rest at the couch.

You see, despite all the discomfort I was feeling, there was also a… a “fire”, in me. I even cried over it, as it got quite intense at one point, that ache pulling me to the opposite side the rest of me wanted to go. That was a first. And We did try getting me relieved of that but… well, as feathery as Abby can be, it was still painful, not a single drop of niceness really, so we gave up on it. It went away almost as suddenly as it came, thank God for that, but I still worried a bit when I remembered the feeling.

“Sure, go ahead,” I told her, uncrossing my legs and arms around her, “Abby’s cage” as she affectionately called it.

Abby stretched out, letting out a satisfied purring moan. Then, she initiated some stretching and hopping in place, so she could let out some of her pent-up energy. Hopefully, I’d be well enough that I could take her on a walkie after we had lunch without limping too much.

As she moved and I thought about this, my eyes began to drift to her butt and the way it moved under her somewhat tight PJs pants as she moved around. It looked so…

“Hic! Hic!”

“Babe? What’s wrong? Is it hurting more?” Abby asked me, sitting back down between my legs and holding my hand.

“It’s fine! No, It’s not! I mean… your butt,” I sobbed.

“My butt? What about it?” she asked, confused.

“I just… hic! I just thought… hic! It’s such a happy butt!” I cried out, embarrassment filling me as I finally explained what stupid reason got me to start crying again.

“Pfft! Hehe! I have a happy butt, huh? How silly!” she giggled but clearly happy over my compliment. “Thank you though, I really mean it.”

“Are you sure you’re ok?” I asked her, wanting to move the conversation away from me.

“Again, I’m fine!” Abby assured me, tapping my hand with a huge grin. “Just feeling a bit bloated and fat, is all.”

“You’re not fat!” I told her like someone had offended her, pulling Abby into a tight hug as if I was a small child an she, my precious doll. “You’re super fit and elegant! The cutest!”

“Pfft, hehe! Aww, but aren’t you the sweetest thing,” she hummed with a dreamy voice. “My sweet, cute, wifey.”

She wiggled herself free only to give me a sweet kiss of gratitude before snuggling back against me.

“Girls, I get that you might be feeling a bit emotional, but do you really need to act this way? It’s giving me diabetes.”

Her sister had come in the living room, having seen and heard who knows what, making me hide my face in Abby’s hair.

“Sorry… my stupid hormones,” I whimpered.

“Yeah sis, ease off will you?” Abby added, just as bubbly as before.

I heard Sophie sigh an apology. Then, her muffled footsteps on the carpet as she walked in front of us before the couch shifted with her added weight. Her hand came to gently rest on my back, gently moving back and forth.

“Are you not feeling better at all?” she asked, her voice sounding concerned and strangely loving. I knew she liked me now—and for a while too, but this was a level of concern and affection I had only glimpsed a few times yet, so I wasn’t fully used to it.

“I am but… it still hurts a lot and… I simply can’t seem to be able to hold my emotions in check.”

“Oh, dear,” she spoke in a low tone, moving in to give me a gentle hug. It felt… homey. Not like Abby’s hugs, but… it made me think that maybe that’s how Abby feels like when she and her sister hug.

And of course, it also got me to start crying again.

“What about you sis?” Abby asked while doing her best to console me. “I haven’t even asked if you slept well, have I?”

“Me? I’m fine. I slept fine too. Although… I’ve been feeling kinda off about my stomach since I woke up now that you mention it.”

“Hmm?” Abby hummed, sounding like mischief was about. “Maybe you’re getting your PMS too?”

“I certainly hope not!” Sophie said, like it was some scandalous thing. “Just imagine it, me, you and Violet syncing up! Our poor dad and Stan having to put up with us all like that!”

“Pfft, hehe! That’s what they get, having made only girls.”

“You say that as if they had any choice on the matter,” Sophie chuckled and likely shaking her head. I was still hiding my face, so I’m not sure about the latter, although I have a strong feeling that she was.

Abby’s phone rang, an incoming message from Mathilda to our group chat. A class had just ended, and she was giving us the updates about what was taught and that the teacher wishes us a speedy recovery.

“…Did someone else ask about us?” I asked, remembering that time a group of Mathilda’s friends had asked if I was well because they thought I was looking down on that particular day.

Abby typed the question for me, Mathilda’s answer coming through almost immediately. Classmates had indeed asked about us, and even some people outside of class too. Mathilda also asked if we wanted her to tell them something in particular.

“Do we?” Abby asked.

“…Why should we?” I grumbled, feeling irritated by people’s meddling.

Abby typed a more tactful reply before hitting send and going back to chatting with Sophie.

I however stayed mulling over it, feeling worse about it by the second.

I grabbed Abby’s phone and unlocked the screen, rethinking what I was about to do, the sisters looking at me.

“Violet here,” I said, reading out loud as I typed. “Sorry, but actually, could you tell them that we are thankful for their worry? And that we should be back to classes tomorrow.”

I then hit send, a mixture of emotions swirling in my chest.

“Why the change of heart?” Abby asked, already smiling. She probably knew why better than me, she just wanted me to think it through a final time and put it into words.

“I guess… for the same reason we don’t have to say anything? Like, we don’t know any of them, right? And yet… even if they are just being nosy… they are also showing concern? So, I think that… at the very least, I should be polite and thank them for it?”

She bobbed side to side on my lap with her eyes closed like my reasoning was music to her ears. She then smooched my check, a show of affection that likely would have been on the lips were it not for her sister being there, before saying “and you sometimes doubt yourself about being a good person” in a singsong voice.

A part of me still felt like what I did was a bit self-serving and not being worth of being called “a good person”, but… my hormones raging as they were, could I be sure that was a real thought?

“Still, to think you’d be like that on Valentine’s out of all days.”

At the mention of today’s date, I completely froze, my mind spiralling into utter chaos.

“Ah! Sis, you idiot!” Abby shouted.

“W-what!? What did I do!?”

She unwittingly had opened up the floodgates. I had completely forgotten that today was Valentine’s, and I was hating myself over it.

“I was hoping Violet wouldn’t remember that until tomorrow and you had to open your big mouth!”

I heard a gasp coming from Sophie, now realising what she had done and why I was now crying like never before, sobbing apologies that even Abby was having a hard time fully understanding. It wasn’t that she couldn’t “hear” my thoughts, I don’t think, it was that it was such a jumbled mess of words that they might as well have been in an alien language.

I lifted Abby up and settled her on her sister, kissing her forehead as I did my best to explain that right now, I wanted to be alone.

I went and shut myself inside the bathroom, locking the door for good measure and sat on the toilet, curled up and weeping, just letting it all out as everything else before had proven itself fruitless. I cried until there were no more tears. Somehow, despite knowing it wasn’t as bad as, I still felt like this was a million times worse than that time I purposefully went out feeling very sick and almost passed out during a date with Abby and gave her the scare of her life.

But eventually tears run out, and despite crying with nothing coming from my eyes seeming like an eternity, even my sobs stopped eventually.

“Gee… I’m such a mess,” I grumbled, seeing my reflexion on the mirror. And I meant it in more way than the obvious ones.

Still, I couldn’t hide forever, and my body was aching for Abby’s, so I opened the door and dragged myself back to the living room, my arms clutching my stomach.

“So, you plan on marrying her one day?”

My breath hitched, my mind wondering if I had heard those words correctly. Had Sophie really just asked Abby her intentions on marrying me?

“Hehe, yup! I can’t wait for the day I become Mrs. Evergreen!” Abby chirped.

I covered my mouth, the realisation of what I just heard having been correct all along.

Emotions swelled in my chest, and I felt like crying again. I was happy, of course. No, I was beyond happy. Frankly, there are no words able to describe how elated I was but…

What am I going to do?

Abby had her life figured out, but what about me? And she came from a nice family, money-wise at least, while dad and I scrapped by since ever. All I knew was that I wanted to live with her forever and make her happy, but how was I supposed to do that? What could I even do? Me, a girl with no ambition?

A ring! I’ll also need to get her a ring!

That meant I had to work. Would a part-time during the summer suffice? How much is a wedding ring anyway? And when should we get married? When should I propose to her? How should I do that?

So… so many things!

I run to our bedroom, my mind a storm.

There was so much I needed to do.