That was the moment she decided to leave. It's always in those small moments that define you, whether you shine like a golden god or break into incredibly small pieces that will never be whole again. Abigail loved fiercely. She always had, and she had known Henry would be hers. She was so certain in him that he had become her north star.
In their marriage, they had often promised life and love to each other, knowing that one person would leave first. As the mortal, it would be her. She could love him and know that he was sincere, but there was something feeble about being the one who was left behind. Her basic nature as a nurse made the feeble affliction too horrible to take.
So one morning without a word she walked away. Left Henry. Left Abraham. He was a grown man with a life of his own. Henry… he would go on, and she would not. Abigail would learn to live without him. Not for hate, but maybe fear. Because of the cruelties of life, she would live without Henry. She wouldn't get to that time where they would lay life down to be never be one without the other.
She wiped the tears that came to her face. She held her head high as she walked to the subway with her small suitcase. Henry Morgan could be left behind in a dream she had most of her adult life. Abigail would be alone because wasn't that how it always was? We came into this world naked and alone, and many times we left it the same way. Who was she to think life for her would be any different than that?
"Do you need help with your bag?" one of the men in uniform asked her. She always did like a military man.
"Thank you," she said. "I'll be fine on my own."
"Are you sure?" he asked her, looking so sincere that he reminded her of Henry during the War.
"I have to be," she said, as she moved to evade her husband.
Somehow a frantic Henry had followed her to the station and he was yelling out her name. She thought she had given herself enough time to disappear. There should not have been a clue of her intentions. But maybe she'd left them the whole time. She'd been leaving Henry for a while now.
Abigail stepped onto the first train as it sped away from him. The last she saw of him was his distraught face yelling for her. It would not have been the last thing she wanted, but there always had to be a last something until you had no more.