“It’s going to be okay, you’ll see. We’ll be stronger, and better.” I was trying to convince myself as much as I was her. Inside I felt like I was dying. My head said this was the right thing to do. We were too young. A long-distance relationship at this point would be so hard on both of us. It wouldn’t be fair. My heart . . . my heart was ready to jump out of my chest and stay with her, leaving me to be a walking corpse.
Our eyes locked, there was something so desperate in hers. I felt it too, like everything was slipping away from us, and I needed to cling to her for just a little while longer. I caught her chin and tentatively led her mouth to mine. She came willingly and then our lips met in an achingly sweet kiss. One full of longing and need. I could taste her tears and it only made me kiss her harder.
I laid back and dragged her down to the mattress with me. I tucked her into my body and continued to kiss her like stopping wasn’t an option. My hands roamed her hips and waist, feeling all the soft, familiar curves. I’d only ever been with Abbi that way. I only ever wanted to be with Abbi.
Her hands fisted in my shirt and slowly our kiss became something else. Something deeper, and needier. It felt like forever and goodbye all at once.
When it was over, and she lay tucked in my arms, her silent tears running onto my chest, that’s when my own finally escaped. I kissed the top of her head and held her tighter until she finally pried herself from my arms and went about dressing.
I sat up, wishing for words to come that wouldn’t, words that would fix this unbearable pain constricting my chest and clogging my throat. Words that would make her stay. Words that would undo the irreparable damage I’d caused, but there were no words. I just sat there and watched her tug her clothes on, my cheeks wet.
She moved toward the door and I croaked, “Abbi.” It was the only thing I could get out. I felt like I couldn’t breathe.
She glanced over her shoulder, pain and heartbreak etched into every line of her face. “I don’t think we should talk for a while. I think we need to stay away from each other.”
“But I leave for New York right after graduation. That’s only a few weeks.” We only had a few weeks, and then I wouldn’t be able to see her every day.
“I can’t,” she shook her head and wiped at the tears still making tracks down her face. “I can’t see you right now. It hurts too much, and we can’t do this again.”
What few pieces of my heart that were still intact, splintered and broke apart right then.
Without another word she turned and left, taking my heart and soul with her.
I never got them back.
That’s why I couldn’t walk away. I couldn’t start this car and leave, even though it might be the right thing to do. The right thing? I snorted and chuckled dryly to myself, meeting my own eyes in the rearview.
Be honest asshole, you’re not capable of doing the right thing when it comes to her.
Did I even know what the right thing was anymore?
The day after Abbi walked out of my room, I walked out of her life. Took my finals, didn’t even walk with my graduating class, just packed up my shit and left for New York. Better than dragging out some horrible goodbye. Or seeing her sad face in those halls and not being able to leave at all.
As much as I loved Abbi, there was this part of me that needed to go.
And by going I ripped myself in two. I made a choice I never should have made, and by the time I tried to fix it, it was too late. We were already on this course.
I often imagined the other one.
The road not taken as they say.
Played it over and over in my mind. The movie of what could’ve been. What should’ve been.
There was a house. Not this one. A big one with lots of rooms. It had a red door. Abbi was obsessed with the fantasy of a red door. And it would have a big fenced yard. Maybe a dog, or maybe five knowing Abbi. It was so clear to me. I didn’t even have to try hard to picture it.
Instead of awards and platinum records on the walls, there would be wedding photos, and probably weird paintings of nothing that made sense because Abbi liked abstract art. Instead of clubs and parties and after parties, there would be baby showers and birthday parties and if I was really lucky, tea parties. Instead of too fast, too expensive cars, there would be ones with big back seats and high safety ratings. No endless amounts of booze and waking up in swanky hotel suites trying to piece together the night before. I’d wake up next to her.
The glamour and the party life had seemed so enticing once upon a time, but now, that other life was what I dreamed of. No models, actresses, and pop stars. No Katya. I never would have met her. It would have only been Abbi. It should have only been Abbi.
Settling down didn’t scare me the way it had then. I’d thought I needed to leave to really experience all life had to offer, but now I knew that it was empty. It was never going to be enough.
There was no level of fame, no amount of money or awards that could take the place of the most vital thing that was missing, and it was finally sinking in that I could lose her forever.
There might be no fixing this. No getting forgiveness. No making things right.
Just the thought of it was fundamentally wrong.
Somehow, we were always supposed to find our way back to each other. I’d always believed that’s how this story would end.
We were supposed to be epic. Like a song.
Only, I was now realizing how stupid that was.
There was always some other guy waiting to give your girl a happily ever after if you were too stupid to get it right the first time.
I had to believe they weren’t that serious.
Maybe it was wishful thinking.
Fuck, I should probably leave. Drive away right now before I hurt her anymore.
Just go home.
Let her be.
I had my hand on the key, about to turn it, but I couldn’t.
I was too selfish to do that.
I had to tell her the truth. I didn’t betray her like she thought I did. Once she listened, if she told me to go, I would go
I tore the key from the ignition and shoved open the door.
Quick strides carried me across the street and up to her front door. The white, not red, front door.
I hesitated, hand raised.
What if he was in there?
I wasn’t getting back in my car and leaving. I let my hand fall against the door in three successive heavy knocks. And then I waited.
A light flicked on somewhere in the house and my heart lurched.
Footsteps.
A pause.
The turning of a lock. The slide of a deadbolt, and then the door was pulled open, and the face that looked back at me was fixed in a hard scowl.
Six
Abbi
“What are you doing here?” I hissed.
Wary green eyes slowly took me in from head to toe and then slammed into mine. Only then did I realize what I was wearing. I quickly folded my arms across my chest, but it was a futile gesture.
“Nice shirt,” he commented, not lasciviously. There was nothing indecent about my sleep attire. His tone was more wistful than anything.
“It’s just a shirt, Abel,” I said letting the weariness seep into my tone. “It doesn’t mean anything anymore.”
“It’s my shirt,” he said it like there was meaning there.
I stole it from him once upon a time, but that wasn’t why I still wore it. It was soft. That’s all.
“It stopped being yours a long time ago. I forget that it ever even belonged to you. That’s how not yours it is.”
His face fell slightly, and the tiniest pinpricks of guilt poked at me.
“Why are you here?” I asked for the second time.
“Why do you think I’m here?” he asked as if it was obvious. Maybe I did know, but it didn’t mean I was letting him past the front door.
“We’re not doing this,” I said firmly.
He took a hesitant st
ep toward me and put his hand on the door, preventing me from closing it in his face. “I’m not going anywhere until we do. We can’t leave things the way they are.”
We stood in a sort of standoff, neither of us budging, until finally I heaved out an exasperated breath. “Abel, I can’t do this with you. We can’t . . . I need you to go and leave me be.”
“I just want to talk. We owe each other the truth, if nothing else. You deserve to know why, and I—"
“What I deserve?” I scoffed and pulled the door open wider, taking an angry step onto the porch. “It’s long past too late for that, and as far as owing each other, it’s too late for that too. We don’t owe each other anything anymore.”
“The hell we don’t,” he growled leveling his gaze with mine, our faces a mere handful of inches apart. “Whatever we are now Abbi, it doesn’t change what we were. We owe each other everything.” I felt the breath of that word flutter across my own lips.
I shook my head. “You’re wrong. The only person I owe anything is Jason, which is why I can’t invite you in. You need to leave.”
He drew back. “Funny how you didn’t seem overly concerned with what you owed him last time I stood in this same spot. Math was never my strong suit, but if tonight was your ten-month anniversary—”
“Don’t,” I hissed, stabbing my finger at him. “Don’t you dare. You don’t have any right to judge me or be angry.”
“Yet you do?”
“I’m not the one who did this, Abel. I’m not the one who lied.”
“So it’s all my fault?” he sputtered.
“What the hell is that supposed to mean?”
“What have we been doing for the last eight years, Abbi? It’s been nothing but a bunch of lies, and why? It wasn’t what I wanted. Do you even remember the first time I showed up at your dorm room and threw myself at your feet? I begged you. All I wanted was you back. I wanted us back. You said no. Our arrangement, or whatever you want to call it was your idea. Seeing each other in secret, pretending to be friends for our families, stealing moments here and there a few times a year. No promises. No commitments. Together when we were together, but not when we weren’t. Isn’t that how you put it? Anything else, anything more, was off limits, and then I was supposed to just go back to New York each time, back to my life. I just did what you wanted,” he shouted hoarsely. “The same way I did when you ended it last year. Clearly it didn’t take you long to move on, but I’m the one who ruined everything.”
A bitter laugh flew from my lips and I threw my hands up. “You think that’s what I wanted? That any of this is what I wanted? You think I wanted to be glorified fuck buddies?” He flinched, but I didn’t miss a beat. “Funny how I don’t remember you trying all that hard to change my mind. Seemed our arrangement suited you just fine. I was protecting myself, for all the good that it did. You’d show up here when it was convenient for you. When you were struggling. When you were feeling lost. When you missed me or needed me. And I was stupid enough to open the door for you every time.” I hadn’t been capable of telling him no. I was too weak to shut the door in his face. It was a sick sort of co-dependency we had. “And you did exactly what I expected every time. You snuck out of bed in the middle of the night, and I woke up alone. I always woke up alone, because that’s what you do. You leave. And then I’d see you on TV or on some magazine cover or online blog with whoever was next in your steady stream of actresses, models, singer, and socialites. That’s why I said no promises. And still you had to go and make them, and I believed you, because that’s what I do. I believe you even though I know better.”
“Dammit, Abbi,” he cursed. “Those girls . . . you can’t believe everything you see. It’s all a big publicity game. And I left before you woke up every time because saying goodbye would have been impossible, and you insisted that’s how it had to be.”
My heart constricted. “Maybe we both screwed this up, but I didn’t lie. I didn’t make a promise I didn’t mean.”
“I didn’t either, Abbi. I didn’t lie. You don’t understand. Please let me explain.”
“Why? Will it make you not married anymore? Is that just a publicity stunt too?”
He winced.
“Thought so.”
His eyes became pleading. “Abbi, please just let me come in. There’s so much you don’t know.”
“And I don’t want to know. Whatever was between us is over. It has to be,” I croaked. “Just looking at you hurts me, Abel. It physically hurts, and it’s hard to breathe. I feel like I’m dying and I. Need. You. To. Go.”
He gently took my face in his hands. “Abbi,” he breathed my name, the warmth of it fluttering across my lips. “I’m dying too, and I have been every single day for two months. It will never be over between us, but she’s pregnant.”
“What?” I jerked my head away and stumbled backward, catching myself on the door.
“She’s pregnant and I didn’t have a choice. Please let me come inside so I can explain.”
I shook my head, hot tears pooling behind my eyes. Pregnant?
She was having his baby.
How did he think telling me this was going to make anything better? It felt worse, like everything inside of me was being wrung and crushed and I just wanted to curl up into a ball.
“Abbi?” he whispered.
I jerked my head side to side. “How could you?” The strangled words forced their way out, barely audible, but he heard them. His eyes squeezed shut and he dug one hand into his hair, pulling on it.
“Fuck,” his eyes blinked open, and he ripped his hand from his hair. “I didn’t mean for it. I met her last year after you ended it. She was nothing more than a fling I tried to lose myself in. I used her to drown out missing you, but it didn’t work Abbi. That’s why I came back. That’s why I couldn’t let us be over. I meant every word I said to you two months ago. It was always supposed to be you. You’re the only one I’ve ever wanted. But it stopped being about what I want the moment Kat put that ultrasound picture in my hand.”
I jerked my gaze away. I didn’t want to hear this.
He grabbed my chin and turned my face back to his. “I don’t love her. I never did. I don’t even know how this happened. I thought I was careful.”
A wretched sort of sob snort came out. My stomach felt sick. I curled my arms around my body.
He dropped his hand. “I know this is my fault. Kat never should have happened, but I can’t change that it did.”
“So you married her because she’s pregnant?”
“There’s more to it. Can we please go inside? It’s cold and you’re shivering.” He set his hands on my shoulders. My body was indeed trembling, but I don’t think it was entirely because of the chill in the air. “Unless you’re not alone in there and that’s why you don’t want me to come in.”
I hugged my arms tighter around myself and looked over my shoulder inside. I should tell him no. I should tell him to leave. Nothing good was going to come from this, but it was Abel. He was my weak spot and I needed to understand as much as I didn’t want to.
I brought my gaze back to him. “Jason’s not here. The team has early morning Saturday practices.” I paused and then spoke again before I could change my mind. “I’ll listen, but that’s all.” I ducked inside and clicked on the interior light. Abel stepped in and closed the door behind him, and then we both stood there, staring at each other.
“We’re inside,” I said.
“Can we sit?” He nodded toward the living room.
Reluctantly, I padded into the living room and took a seat in my armchair. Abel lowered himself onto the couch, angling his body toward me. An awkward silence descended on the room and I didn’t know which one of us was supposed to break it. My knees bounced, and I pulled the hem of the baggy shirt lower over my sleep shorts. A few seconds or minutes passed and then Abel finally let loose a heavy sigh. “You have to understand, I didn’t have a choice.”
“Because she’s pregnant with your baby
? I get it. You’re trying to do the right thing. The honorable thing. But this isn’t the eighteen-hundreds. Marrying someone for the wrong reasons isn’t the right thing. It’s not good for anyone, especially not a baby, Abel. I’m not saying that because I’m jealous and hurt and pissed.” Although I couldn’t keep the bitterness from my tone.
“I know that. I wouldn’t have married her if she’d given me a choice, Abbi.”
I frowned. “What do you mean?
“She gave me a choice, but it wasn’t really one. I couldn’t let her get rid of the baby.”
“What?” The word came out a gasp.
He leaned forward, resting his elbows on his knees, hands clasped together between them. “She wanted a commitment from me or she was going to have an abortion.”
“Who does that?” I asked weakly.
He hung his head and dragged his hands through his thick, untamed hair, before lifting his chin and meeting my gaze again. “A selfish, vain model afraid of a baby ruining her career and leaving her a single mom.”
“You would never abandon your kid. How could she think you wouldn’t help take care of her and your baby?”
He shrugged. “I tried to tell her that, reassure her I would support her, but she said she wouldn’t go through with it unless she had a guarantee. She made it clear what she wanted from me.”
“So you proposed,” I muttered emotionlessly.
“Not on the spot. I was in shock.” He lifted his butt up and reached into his back pocket. His hand came away with his wallet and he withdrew a small slip of something. I knew what it was before he held it out to me. I stared at it like it was a snake that might bite me before slowly reaching out and taking it. I eyed the tiny, grainy, ultrasound picture with Katya Petravisky’s name across the top. What pieces of my heart hadn’t already broken shattered right then.
“Maybe I could have ignored it, pretended it wasn’t real, let her have the abortion, but that,” he pointed at the picture in my hand, “made it too real. I couldn’t let her do it. So, yeah, I proposed, and I married her, but it doesn’t matter, because as soon as she has that baby, I’m gone. I’ll take my kid and be done with her.”
Finding Abel (Rebel Hearts Book 1) Page 6
