you were sprawled across abby’s bed, half laughing, half groaning as you scrolled through old photos on your phone. abby sat at the edge of the mattress, sharpening her knife, the rhythmic scrape of steel filling the silence until you said something that made her pause.

"look at this," you said, shoving your phone in her direction. it was a picture of you and your ex smiling, arms wrapped around each other like you were actually happy back then. "god, what was i thinking?"

abby didn’t even glance at the screen. she waved your hand away, jaw tightening. "you weren’t," she muttered.

you frowned. "what’s that supposed to mean?"

abby set the knife down a little too hard and finally looked at you. her expression was sharp, but her voice is low, restrained. it gave her away. "it means i don’t get it. she treated you like shit. everyone saw it but you."

you shifted uncomfortably, phone still in your hand. "it wasn’t all bad."

abby gave you a look, the kind that cut straight through excuses. "don’t do that. don’t defend her." she shook her head, leaning back on her hands. "you deserve better than someone who makes you feel small. you deserve someone who actually knows how to take care of you."

you blinked at her. "like who? you?"

the words were half a joke, but they landed heavy in the space between you. abby’s mouth opened, then shut, her eyes flicking away.

"yeah," she said finally, almost a growl, like she hated admitting it out loud. "like me."