Against his better judgment Highfield had thoroughly enjoyed every second of their night together. In her company he had spent, quite simply, the best date ever. In less than 4 hours she had proved she was forthright, opinionated, brave, adventurous and a lover of good food, good wine (and good company). Highfield shivered and stubbed out his cigarette. He wanted her to be no more than a figment of his imagination, only then would he be safe from his raw wounds.
Behind him, Abbey unlocked the passageway door and stepped out into the courtyard. At first she didn't see him. She looked up at the night sky. She wished she could just forget about the evening but he haunted her thoughts. The simple fact that they shared the same apartment building, jangled her nerves. She'd be unable to sleep, no point turning in just now. As she turned, Abbey saw a figure across the lawn stub out a cigarette. So close she could just reach out, take two steps and touch him. She didn't. Instead Abbey excepted the pitiable no-win situation in which she found herself and the man she thought she could see in the half-light. Abbey strode purposefully to the back door and wrenched it open. She stepped inside.
"Why?" Abbey shot softly. It was all too reasonable, she thought, he was very clearly messing with her head.
"I seem unkind to you?"
Abbey didn't say anything, she wanted to run. She wore reason like a cloak, waiting with forbearance to see what followed. It wasn't possible, she thought, to be more miserable.