“Promise,” I tell him.
Leaning forward, he kisses me on my temple, his lips lingering longer than usual. “Okay, let’s go to Joey’s and pick Eleanor up,” he states, looking at me again. “Who is Joey?” I ask, not recognizing the name from his group of friends.
“Joey is the guy fixing what you broke,” he says with a playful smile.
“Now you’re the one reminding me,” I tease back at him.
He looks back at me with a mischievous smile on his lips. “As I should. What did she ever do to you?” he says, striving to look mortified.
“You kept a secret from me,” I reply. His smile turns into a frown. “You’re right. No more secrets between us.”
I understand how he feels, which is why I can easily agree.
Finding his lips, I say “No more secrets,” against them with a kiss.
With a smile he tugs me up. “Let’s go.”
Closing the distance between us, his hands find my waist and he gently squeezes my hips. “No complaining about the smell of the shop,” he adds with amusement.
Fighting the urge to scrunch my nose at his comment. I imagine the smell and give him a curt nod. “Okay, let me tell Trey we’re ready,” he states, giving me a kiss on the corner of my mouth before he heads to Trey’s bedroom.
Wobbling my way over to the counter to where my purse is sitting, I grab it, already knowing I will need it. Twenty minutes later we’re pulling up in Trey’s Jeep to an auto shop and we all climb out. I take in the smell Matt had warned me about. My stomach turns a little knowing I’m a girl when it comes to things like these. Knowing I’m here for one purpose only, I force myself to ignore the smell and walk with Matt inside the office. An older gentleman is behind the counter, his face lighting up with a smile when he spots Matt. With a lift of his chin, he greets us. “Hey, boy, good to see you again,” he says, with a smile on his face.
From my side I can feel Matt growing excited. “It’s never been better to see you,” he responds, pulling me to his side. “This is Joey. I used to play on the team with his son,” he explains. “Max graduated three years ago, though. His dad is the only one I trust with any repairs on Eleanor,” he adds before looking over to Joey. “So how bad was it?”
With a whistle, Joey begins speaking. “She was pretty bad as you know when you brought her in, but it wasn’t as bad as we both thought. She’s gotten a well-deserved makeover. Poor girl, I don’t know what happened for her to deserve it, but she’s shining real pretty now,” he conveys.
I cringe from his words, completely ashamed of my actions. Behind me Trey bellows out, “It was this girl who beat the shit out of her.”
Snapping my head up to glare over Matt’s shoulder, I shoot Trey with a look. It doesn’t faze him but makes him chuckle. Joey’s whistle brings my attention back to him. “It was all a misunderstanding,” I apologize.
“So, how much do I owe you?” Matt asks, already pulling the wallet out of his pants. I stop him by placing my hand over his, earning me a confused look. “I’ve got it,” I tell him, my eyes already looking over to Joey. “How much do I owe you?” I say, digging into my purse for my wallet, opening it up to reach for my card.
Joey looks perplexed. “No, Abigail, you’re not paying for it,” Matt demands.
“I made the damages,” I clip out, placing the card on the counter. “Please, Matt. I’ll feel better knowing I’ve paid for them.”
With a deep sigh, he gives in. “Fine, as long as it never happens again.”
“I promise.”
Looking back at Joey, I encourage him to take my card and this time he willingly accepts it. Within minutes, Matt has the keys to his car in his hand and we’re walking to Eleanor.
“You’re not coming home with me?” Matt asks, noticing I’ve stopped at the side of Trey’s Jeep.
“Are you sure you want me anywhere near her?” I ask, eyeing his car.
He retraces his steps until he’s standing in front of me. “Only if you promise to play nice with her from now on. You have to remember, she never did anything to you,” he teases once again.
“Ha ha,” I throw back at him, lightly shoving him on the chest. Without any notice, he tugs me to follow him, opening the passenger door so I can climb in. Within seconds he’s at my side in the driver’s seat, the roar of Eleanor’s engine is soon heard. Leaning over to Matt, I reach for his face to pull it towards me, planting a kiss on his lips. “I’m sorry,” I repeat against his lips.
“Let’s go for a ride,” he answers back.
Sitting back against my seat, I buckle myself up and he speeds off.
“MERRY CHRISTMAS, BEAUTIFUL,” I whisper against Abigail’s ear. She gives me a sleep filled mumble, but her lips turn up in a smile as she snuggles her body into mine. I cannot resist pulling her tighter against me to feel her warmth.
“Merry Christmas, Matt,” she whispers back to me, her lips finding mine.
With my hand roaming down her body, I huskily whisper, “You don’t want to get up and see what Santa brought you?”
I feel her chuckle against my lips. “I’m a little too old to believe in Santa anymore. But if you insist, let’s get up,” she replies, but instead of getting up and out of bed, she shoves me onto my back, straddling my hips. “I take it you were Santa?” she curiously asks with a smile as she takes in my already dressed state.
I fail to hide the smile I was trying to contain. “Maybe,” I whisper, already running my hands on her silky smooth skin. Lifting myself up, I leave an open mouth kiss against her neck. “Although, I should have put you on the naughty list this year,” I say against her skin, now trailing my lips down her shoulder.
Her body shudders in my arms. “If that were the case, I’ll make sure to make a mental note to give Santa extra special favors so that doesn’t happen,” she purrs back at me.
“In that case, you’re permanently on the naughty list from here on out,” I tell her before slamming my lips onto hers. She grinds her body against my hips and I’m already aroused from our conversation. It doesn’t take much when it comes to Abigail, my need to be one with her is easily awakened as I willingly give in to her request.
An hour later, our bodies are spent and exhausted and I remember why I’d woken Abigail in the first place. “That was the best way to wake up on Christmas morning,” I whisper against her sweaty skin, leaving another kiss.
“Yes, it is,” she says, still slightly out of breath, wrapping her body into mine to fall back asleep.
“Oh no, it’s time to get up and open your presents.”
Giving me a smile, she says, “Okay.”
I watch as she sits up at the edge of the bed to put her boot on and is soon wobbling her way over to the bathroom. Without having to see her face, I know she’s grimacing the entire way there.
Climbing out of bed, I grab for my clothes that are scattered around on the floor and dress. Before long, Abigail and I are making our way to the living room where the Christmas tree is twinkling with the white lights and bright ornaments she had chosen. The sight of the tree brings back the memory of the day we cut it down, my lips curving up into a smile as I remember. My goal to make this Christmas special for Abigail is proving to be effortless as her face lights up from the sight off all the presents I placed around the tree—the reaction I was hoping for.
Making ourselves comfortable, we sit near the tree. I watch as Abigail reaches for the presents, sorting the ones we obviously won’t be opening to the side. Even though they weren’t here celebrating with us, she made sure to get one for everybody, if not two. Trey had gone home for the holidays, leaving a few days ago, and David and Kelly were spending it between both their parents’ homes. Julio was with his mom visiting their family in Mexico, a gift from Abigail for both of them, leaving Abigail and I alone, which I was all too happy about.
I smile as I accept a wrapped box from Abigail and open it. Inside is a leather bound photo book. Opening it, the first picture I see is one o
f Emily holding me as a newborn. It was taken on the day my parents brought me home. Flipping the page, I find another picture of Emily and I playing in our childhood backyard as kids. She’s already a teenager and the gleeful smile on her face as she chases me brings tears to my eyes.
“Where did you find these pictures?”
“I hope you don’t mind, but I went through the garage to find them,” she replies in a whisper. “I know it hurts to look at them sometimes, but I wanted you to have something you can eventually look back at from time to time that reminds you of Emily.”
Flipping through more pages, they continue to remind me of her and I cannot help but keep a smile on my face. “Hopefully one day you’ll be able to share it with your children,” Abigail adds.
My head snaps up at that remark as hopeful thoughts of children with Abigail run through my mind. “Thank you, beautiful. It’s perfect,” I tell her, giving her a kiss. “I’ll treasure it forever,” I add against her lips. Almost an hour later, we’re both surrounded by a mountain of wrapping paper, when I hear Abigail say, “I think that is all of them,” with a giggle, already gathering the wrapping paper in her hands.
“Nope, I think you missed one,” I say, nodding my head up at the tree.
With a look of confusion she says, “I don’t think so. Those left aren’t ours.”
With a smile, I reach forward and push a couple of boxes aside to grab the one present I hid in the tree. I made sure to use the decorated ribbon to hide it. My nerves are on end as I’m reaching for it. The sooner she opens the box, the sooner I will see the smile on her face.
I bring the box out and hand it to her. I watch as her eyes go wide and stay locked on the small turquoise box in my hands, her body now rigid as she stares down at it, worrying me. She doesn’t reach for it, but instead she looks at me with haunted eyes that are turning glassy.
Swallowing, she asks, “Is this what I think it is?” the fear clear in her eyes.
“Why don’t you open it and find out,” I answer.
She shakes her head. “No, Matt,” she whispers, making my heart plunge to the pit of my stomach. Looking back down at the box, I push it towards her. “Beautiful,” I manage to muster before she holds up her hand to stop me from speaking.
“Don’t, Matt,” she says weakly.
“Why?” I fearfully ask.
I’m still holding the box, but the rejection is now creeping up inside of me. Her eyes are still frightfully locked onto the box as she slowly retreats from it. “I can’t,” she utters, before she stands and rushes to the bedroom as fast as she can.
Shocked, I sit there staring at the box in my hand trying to understand what just happened. I don’t know how long I sit there alone, lost in a daze as I stare at the elegantly wrapped bow. When I come to my senses, I force myself to stand and make my way to the bedroom. I reach the opened door, already hearing her whimpered cries as I enter.
Abigail is lying on the bed, her face against the pillow trying to muffle her cries, but it fails. I place the box on our dresser, ignoring the fact that she still hasn’t touched it. Walking my way over to the edge of the bed, I gaze down at her.
“Why?” I repeat.
She turns her face from the pillow. “I’m sorry, Matt, but I can’t give you the answer you want. It wouldn’t be fair,” she whimpers out.
“Why not?”
“I don’t think we’re ready for this,” she says before sniffling.
Her denial is tearing me apart. I never in my mind envisioned her rejection. Instead I’d pictured a cheerful, “Yes.”
She’s looking at me with pleading eyes as if begging for my sympathy, but I cannot grant her wish. Instead, I give her the answer she would prefer to hear. “Fine, I won’t ask again,” I say before turning to leave her to cry alone in the room, walking past the perfect Christmas I had worked so hard to create for her, storming straight out of the house, wishing I could take it all back.
I SIT IN the silence in which Matt has left me, wondering what have I done? My body is trembling from the shock of watching him leave. I can no longer control the tears streaming down my face; they’re too fast for me to stop. My heart feels as if it’s shattered, yet again. Why do we keep doing this to each other? Will we ever stop causing each other pain? There is no one to blame this time but myself. My selfish heart broke on its own, but I couldn’t lie to him. It wouldn’t be fair to either of us. I refuse to deceive him by giving him a false answer.
Pushing myself up from the bed, my eyes find the box staring back at me like a beacon brightly shining in my direction. I’m afraid to approach it, unwilling to acknowledge its existence. It pains me to think of the intention behind the single object. It represents Matt’s passionate love for me, a love in which he felt the need to propose. I think of the possibilities it would have brought: a lifetime of happiness with Matt, the prospect of children, the acknowledgement of growing old with him. But can I truly believe it will always be the fairytale I craved in my heart? It was the same fairytale I believed I would have with Matt when he declared his love to me, but just as quickly my fairytale came crashing down the next morning. It’s the reason why I still have my doubts of a future with Matt. I truly do love him, but I don’t believe we’re ready yet. I’m not ready. Why couldn’t he understand that?
Still ignoring the box, I walk past it and out to the living room, stopping in the middle of what’s left of Christmas morning. The sea of wrapping paper surrounding my feet is a reminder of my once joyful experience. From the corner of my eye, I see snowflakes slowly descending to the ground, bringing a smile to my lips from the thought of a winter wonderland. With the excitement of a child, I rush back to my room for a coat and my shoes, hastily putting them on before I’m rushing out the patio door. The feeling of the snowflakes hitting my body evokes my inner child.
I’m startled when Matt’s arms tighten around my waist, my lips immediately saying, “I’m sorry.” Turning by body, I step out of his embrace.
His head tilts to the side a moment before saying, “You have nothing to be sorry about, beautiful. You’re right, maybe it’s too soon, but I don’t know any other way to tell you how much I love you.”
His words demand I look up to him. “I don’t need for you to propose in order for you to prove how much you love me, Matt. You show me every day.”
He leans his chin against my head as I continue. “I love you just as much and I hope you believe me as well,” I declare.
I feel him sigh before he answers. “I do.”
The snow continues to fall around us as we silently hold each other. It’s when I feel Matt shiver in my arms that I realize he isn’t wearing a coat. “Matt, why don’t you have a jacket on?” I scold him, trying to push him back into the house, but he keeps his feet planted to the spot, holding me.
“I swear, you’re the most beautiful thing I’ve ever seen,” he softly whispers into my ear. The words leave me breathless and dizzy, a reminder of why I love him so much.
“It is beautiful,” I reply, holding my hand up to catch a snowflake, my bracelet reflecting in the sun as I stare down at it melting in my hand. “I don’t remember ever being in the snow before.”
Matt looks down at me confused. “You don’t? I know it snows in Seattle.”
“It probably does, but I don’t have any memories of it,” I state with a sigh. “Another fault of my memory loss,” I mumble.
His lips go up into a smile. “Good, then consider this your first time in the snow. Another first I get to spend with you,” he conveys, making me smile with him.
“Yes, another first,” I whisper as his thumb brushes against the charms on my wrist. “Do you miss it?” he questions.
Not understanding the meaning behind his question, I ask, “Miss what?”
“Your memory?”
My eyes look down at my bracelet as well. “No,” I say, above a whisper. “The only memories I want to have are the ones with you. I promise,” I answer without a doubt in my
heart.
His answer is a continued silence that is slightly worrying me. “Matt, my no isn’t forever, but it’s my answer for now,” I explain. “Will you please just give me time?” I plead.
I worry as I wait for his answer. “Of course,” he replies, pulling me tightly into his body and I feel as if I can finally breathe again. Matt being the air I need.
I’M LOOKING AT the reminder staring back at me from the screen of my phone. I’m already grimacing with the thought of having to tell Matt. I’d forgotten about the stupid appointment and fear mentioning it to him. I glance over at him lying next to me as he stares into his book that he’s supposed to be studying.
“Matt, I don’t remember. Do you have class on Wednesday mornings?” I casually ask.
“I have an early morning class at seven. Why?” he says, now looking at me with interest.
Contemplating whether to tell him or not, I bite my lip as I watch his eyebrow go up high on one side. “What are you keeping for me now?”
Cringing to myself, I reply, “I wasn’t intentionally trying to keep it from you, I simply forgot to tell you.”
Rolling his body so he’s directly above me, he cradles himself in between my legs. “And what is it you simply forgot?” he asks with a hint of laughter in his eyes.
“I forgot about my neurologist appointment,” I answer, my finger tracing the outlines of his tattoo while holding my breath for the lecture I’m expecting. “Is it on Wednesday?” he asks.
Nodding my head, I continue to wait for a reaction, my eyes focused on his arm. He surprises me when he leans down to give me a kiss on the corner of my lips. “Okay, then I guess where going to your appointment next week.”
“But if you have class, I can’t let you miss it. I’ll just ask Julio instead,” I say, already feeling disappointed.
He shakes his head. “Regardless if I had class or not, I’m not missing your appointment, beautiful,” he says, and I smile. “I guess it’s a road trip to Seattle on Wednesday,” I reply, earning me a chuckle.
Unspoken Promises Page 18
