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She made sure the rudder was in the right position, and reached through the railing and gave the aft line a flip causing it to drop off of the cleat. Then she gently pulled on the long line, and the boat moved slowly forward. As the boat moved forward the lines in the boathouse dropped off of their cleats. She steered the boat out to the dock and reached through the railing dropping a short line with a loop in the end over a cleat on the dock. Then she stepped off of the boat and tied the forward end to another cleat. I followed her instructions and helped as she attached the rigging to various places on the boat. Then she ran a line through a pulley on the bow, and used a coffee grinder winch to pull the mast upright and attach the last wire to the bow of the boat. It only took a few minutes for her to get the rest of the boat fully rigged, including raising the sails. We stowed the cooler below decks. Then she went back in the boathouse and flipped the switch closing and locking. Still no answer from Abigail. Christ. She was consuming his every thought. He wanted her with him. He wanted to sleep, eat, bathe with her. He loved the way she laughed. Loved the sound of her voice, the scent of her, the innocent way her mind worked. She was an angel. His angel…and he’d yelled at her. He’d been so scared when she’d run out of the apartment and left her phone behind, but he shouldn’t have yelled. That was inexcusable and lately he’d been blowing up for any stupid reason. It was those fucking pills. Getting up with a wince, he stalked to one of the bathrooms outside their recording room. He unscrewed the top to the bottle of pills and poured them into the toilet. “Christ! Are you insane? What are you doing?” Michael exclaimed ripping the bottle of pills from his hand, but it was already too late. The white pills floated innocently inside the porcelain bowl. “Clearing my head.” “You’ve been out of the hospital a little over a month. You need those still,”.
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