Abigail clutched my phone tightly. She then meticulously combed through my phone to confirm that I had indeed deleted every trace of contact with Blair.
I could see the faint relief wash over her face, though she quickly masked it.
She set the phone down and looked at me quietly. "Samuel, that's not what I meant. I'm not trying to interfere in your personal matters. I hope you can understand that."
Her words were laughable, even to herself, I imagine.
Not trying to interfere in my personal matters, she said? How absurd and utterly ridiculous for her to say that! Where did she get the audacity to make such a claim?
Just moments ago, she had been questioning me, repeatedly demanding answers. The thing was, she clearly didn't get along with Blair, so why would I ever meet Blair in private?
Could her memory really be so poor that she'd forgotten everything so quickly?
I couldn't take it anymore. Fixing her with a stare, I snapped. "What exactly do you want, Abigail? Can't you even let me have a moment of peace?"
A flicker of disappointment crossed her face. However, she quickly replaced it with a composed, gentle expression. "Samuel, that's not what I mean. Can you at least give me a chance to explain?"
A chance to explain?
I had the urge to laugh out loud.
How many of those chances had there been over the years? And yet, how had Abigail treated me during those moments?

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