Granting one last wish

ABBY

Three years later…

I have to flex my neck a couple of times after hours of review for my finals tomorrow, and I feel drained. I study hard to get good grades and to make my parents proud.

I don’t have to go to college to get a job to pay my bills. I don’t have to work at all. My parents are loaded, and I can have everything I ask for. I can buy whatever I want, travel around the world, dine in the most expensive restaurant, spend summer in a yacht, drink the most expensive wine, and have the most luxurious penthouse in Manhattan or have the fastest car in the world, and date the world sexiest man.

My parents own the biggest hotel chains in the world, King Hotel chains, and Restaurants, and I’m the only heiress. My dad is Michael Aaron King, the best dad every girl can dream of, and Catherine Elizabeth King is the most beautiful woman and the world’s number one mom.

I don’t need an annoying private tutor because I excel academically. Yeah, I’m on my third year in college at Boston State University, two hundred and sixty-six miles away from home, away from my parents, and away from friends.

My life sucks! Just kidding.

I am with my roommate/best friend in an apartment that’s not world-class, but not that bad either. I don’t have a friend. I know it sounds pathetic, but whatever.

I met Andrew three years ago during my therapy. He’s also seeing a doctor who was just another floor down my shrink’s office. We met at the reception, and we clicked right away. I guess we have something in common.

“Hi, um, you’re seeing a doctor here?” he asks me shyly.

“Yeah. For a couple of weeks, you?” I answer and ask back with a little smile. Not all people are good at sharing that they are seeing a therapist, but why should I be ashamed of I if I need one.

“Dr. Peters.” He smiles.

“You?”

“Dr. Wallerman,” I tell in a low voice.

“Hmm. Rich people.” He scrutinizes me from head to toe. Dr. Wallerman is famous for her practice, and I don’t look like I can afford to pay a doctor like her.

“Excuse me?” I ask him when he raises an eyebrow.

“She’s like a celebrity doctor. I’m Andrew, by the way.” He offers his hand for a handshake. I hesitate, but he keeps his hand and waits for me to shake it.

“I’m Ma— I’m Abbygail. Please, call me Abby.” I shake his hand, and then we walk me out of the building.

“Sure, Abby. It suits you. Beautiful name.” He winks at me, which makes me blush. I don’t talk to strangers, and I don’t mingle too when someone gets close to me. The bodyguard Dad’s assigned will automatically shoo them away.

“Thanks.”

“I’ll walk you to your car,” Andrew offers.

I pause and face him. “Actually, I’m walking to a coffee shop.” 

His eyes widen as if he has an idea. “Would you mind if I tag along?

“I don’t mind at all.” 

“Good. Just only been here for a couple of weeks. I’m an ex-military, and you know this PTSD kind of shit. Oh sorry, I swear a lot. Used to in the military. How about you?” he says easily without a single flinch. 

swear a lot? Not much,”

laughs at

I cut it short. I’m still not comfortable sharing that horrific night even to my Doctor. It takes a while, but I feel

okay. You don’t have to tell me if you’re not ready. I completely understand. It took

shrug. “Soon, hopefully. Thanks.”

walk to the nearest coffee shop where I always dropped by after my session. Andrew mentions that he crashes the couch of one of his friends, and he’s still looking for a

telling dad who was so

a stranger live with you, and a man for God’s sake. I’ll

lip. Howard is going to lose his job.

it’s Abby’s dad. You can meet him if you want to and do a background check. He’s

me to calm down? You’re living with a stranger who could be a psychopath. You’re not

meet him and just give him a chance.”

I don’t like him, he’ll be out of your apartment and end of discussions.” 

smile widens. “Great. I’ll let him know. Thanks, Dad. I love you!” I grin and jump.

young woman, and don’t tell

furrow.

find out.”  He snaps.

when someone pats my shoulder. And speaking

already. You didn’t even notice me coming in.

thinking about my

worry about it. I’m sure you’ll ace your exams.” He gives me an enigmatic smile.

cook for us tonight?” I follow him, passing by our small

not tonight.” Yeah, my best friend can cook. He could make something from scratch, and good thing, I have fast metabolisms

already sitting on the stool, leaning his elbows on our granite countertop. I open our dark brown cabinet that matches the

about you? What you’re gonna eat?” I

directly from the box. Why bother the plates, Abby? You’re so

answer me. Why aren’t you going to have dinner with me? Going out with friends?”

“Actually, ivadet.”

My brows

I have a date tonight.” He didn’t look at me in

As soon as the words came from his mouth, my eyes grow big in surprise.

That’s good news. I’m happy for you.” I put down my pizza, pull him into a hug.

tonight with a woman. Do I know her? What is she like? I mean I’m sure she’s pretty. How did you two meet? When did you replace your condom in your drawer? I’m sure they’re expired two years ago. Do I need to leave before you come home? Or do I just need to pretend

You’re so funny. Did you check that I have a condom on my nightstand? I’m not getting laid tonight, Abby, and it’s our first date. Jeez, you’re far too excited than me.” He crunches his nose, and I can

when

when you’re serious about dating her, you can wait until you both

and it’s nice to eat directly from the box. No hassle.

people like to make their life

seven seconds?” I inquire and laugh at

this one and not just a fling or maybe a one-night stand or a one week in

a chance to meet anyone he dated, and that was over a year ago, then he stopped

I like her. I met her last week. She’s our new client. I happened to be the one who installed the security system in her apartment.

at a security agency for three years now, but I didn’t meet his co-workers yet. He said they would just

and says I see you,” I mimic Neytiri, but fails miserably.

his soda. See, he even laughs at my lame joke. We always choose the same movie to watch, even a crappy rom-com—no arguments.