In a little less than two and a half weeks, Abbie's life had completely changed. She couldn't remember a time when she'd ever been more exhausted or...confined. It wasn't that she didn't appreciate the concern. It was just that day after day of shouldering everyone else's worry over her, along with her worry about Jake, had turned out to be completely draining. Some people might have relished the opportunity to be waited on day and night, but not Abbie. Relaxing in bed had never been her pastime of choice. Abbie was used to being up and being active. Stillness was a form of torture, she was fairly sure now.
With everything going on inside her body, her ability to heal quickly had taken a bit of a hit, but just that morning, she'd been able to stand on her own and move around — granted, with crutches — without her ribs pulling or re-fracturing. There was still some soreness lingering in the area, but she was pretty sure in another twelve hours or so, those bones would be healed enough for her to not require the use of a wheelchair any longer.
She hated that thing. She had wings. What need did she have for wheels? Well, she used to have wings. Now….
Abbie didn't like thinking about now.
Fredericka had helped her pick out a dress from her closet and get dressed. She'd also done her hair and makeup. Abbie had been fine with wearing one of her standard LBDs, but it had somehow seemed too somber. As if she were in mourning. Or maybe she was. Ultimately, she'd gone with a navy and black banded Herve Leger dress, because God only knew how long she'd still be able to wear her more fitted and tailored clothes before people started ooooh-ing and ahhhh-ing over when she was due and whether it was a boy or a girl. Alright, she probably had some time before she had to go shopping for maternity clothes, but the dress paired well with the lingering bruises around the nails in her leg, and the black cast still wrapped around her left arm (though the doodles and messages in various shades of metallic Sharpie might not have met her mother's standards for cocktail attire).
She was still sitting on the edge of her bed when she heard Hadley knock, and she didn't even have to acknowledge she'd heard it before she saw Hadley's blonde head pop in. It made Abbie smile, however briefly, and no amount of makeup magic Fredericka had worked was fully able to disguise the shadows beneath her eyes or the pale color of her skin. She hadn't been sleeping well or eating well, but she continued to tell everyone that she was fine, just so they'd stop hovering. But Abbie didn't mind Hadley's visits. At least she always brought updates about Jake, if the status quo could be considered an update.