Abby's Plight (Southern Love #5)

by E. L. Todd

  He eyed her. “Is there something on your mind?”

  Abby wanted to talk to someone about her ordeal, but she knew Fernan was already nervous about his parents’ arrival. “No. Don’t mind me. I’m just a bit nervous.”

  “There’s no reason to be nervous.” He came behind her and rubbed her shoulders gently. “They’ll love you.”

  “But we don’t even have our stories straight. Where did we meet? What do I do for a living? How many kids are we having?”

  He shook his gently. “Don’t worry. I’ll take care of them. Just sit there look pretty. But we may have to put a fat suit on you.”

  “What? You’ve seen my stomach and ass.”

  His eyes darkened. “I have.”

  She looked away, wishing she hadn’t aroused the beast inside him.

  The knock on the door made her heart palpitate. The sweat started to accumulate on her palms.

  “They’re here,” Fernan said.

  “Great…” She looked at the ring on her finger, seeing the object that ruined her last change with Toby. Now she saw his face every time she looked at it.

  “Darling, are you sure you’re alright?”

  She forced a fake smile to her lips. “Yes.”

  He stared at her for a moment before he nodded “Okay.”

  They both stood and moved to the doorway. Fernan put his hand around her waist, awkwardly, knowing their romantic and physical relationship was over. She immediately felt like she was betraying Toby. He opened the door.

  His mother was a short plump woman. She had short brown hair and hazel colored eyes. She immediately pulled Fernan into a hug. “My boy. I missed you so much.” Her thick accent was rough on the ears.

  “I missed you too, Mama.” He patted her back and pulled away. Then he looked at his father.

  His dad was at least a foot taller than his mother. He had the same stern jaw and blue eyes. The similarities were clear. But he didn’t have the warmth his mother did. Abby couldn’t read his expression at all. It was like his father hated Fernan.

  “It’s nice to see you, Dad.” Fernan extended his hand.

  His father eyed it before he shook it.

  It was an awkward meeting. Abby thought it was odd.

  His mother turned to Abby. “And who is this?” Her eyes lit up like New York City during the Christmas season.

  Fernan placed his arm around Abby’s waist. “This is my wife, Abby.”

  His mother covered her face and screamed. Then she started rambling in Italian, clutching her chest as she stared at Abby from top to bottom. She indicated her breasts then her legs, and Abby had no idea what she was saying. But it was obvious how happy she was.

  “So beautiful,” she finally said in English. She pulled Abby in for a hug and squeezed her tightly. “My son has chosen well.”

  The acceptance made Abby feel warm. Just in that embrace she felt more love than she ever received from her own parents.

  His mother pulled away. “I’m Filomena. But call me Mama.”

  Abby nodded. “Thank you.

  Filomena pinched her cheeks. “So gorgeous, Fernan.”

  ‘Thank you,” Fernan said.

  She eyed Abby’s waistline. “She’s a little skinny though.”

  Fernan chuckled. “I’ll fatten her up soon.”

  Filomena clapped her hands together. “She’ll give you such beautiful sons and daughters. She has wide hips.”

  Now Abby felt like a cow getting ready to breed.

  Fernan caught the look. “Come inside.”

  His father stepped closer to Abby and eyed her. She still couldn’t read his expression.

  Fernan turned back and spoke in Italian. It seemed like he was formally introducing them. When Fernan was finished, his father just nodded then walked inside. When they were alone, Fernan turned to her.

  “My father doesn’t speak English.”

  “I figured. But he didn’t seem too thrilled to meet me.”

  Fernan rolled his eyes. “He doesn’t like me or anyone I care about. Ignore him.”

  “But your mom seems to like me.”

  “Like you?” He laughed. “She loves you.”

  “But she doesn’t even know me.”

  “But you’re gorgeous. And that’s what a mother wants for her son. A beautiful woman to knock up.”

  “That’s romantic…”

  He laughed. “Isn’t it?” He put his hand around her waist and led her to the couch.

  His mom was already rummaging through the kitchen. “I’ll cook dinner.” She was throwing items on the counter and pulling pots and pans from the cabinets. She turned to Abby. “Do you know how to cook?”

  “Uh….”

  “Yes,” Fernan said. “She cooks for me every night.”

  “Good girl,” she said.

  Abby was insulted by the comment. She may be a woman, but it wasn’t her job to cook and clean.

  Fernan caught her expression. “It’s just a cultural thing.”

  “I know,” she said with a sigh.

  His mom turned to her. “You start grading the cheese and I’ll work on the pasta.”

  Abby had no idea how to grade cheese. Unless it came in a frozen box, she didn’t know what to do.

  Fernan interceded. “Abby broke her finger recently. She’s been taking it easy.”

  “Oh okay,” Filomena said. “Then you take it slow.”

  Fernan guided her to the couch. His father sat there, staring at the TV. A Yankees game was on.

  Abby felt awkward sitting between the two men. Fernan held her hand and rested it on his thigh. Fernan spoke to his father in Italian. His father’s responses were always short. Abby didn’t understand the language, but it was clear his father had no interest in conversing with Fernan.

  An hour later, Filomena called out from the kitchen. “Dinner’s ready.”

  They all took their seats at the table. Fernan pulled Abby’s chair close to his, able to touch her and whisper to her immediately. His mother piled all the food on the table. When Abby smelled it, her stomach growled.

  Filomena heard the sound. She shook her head in disapproval. “Fernan, you need to feed her more.”

  “I feed her as much as I can, Mama.”

  They sat down and began their meal. Filomena pulled out a picture frame and handed it to Fernan. “I met the Pope.”

  He stared at the picture. “That’s lovely.”

  She rambled in Italian for twenty minutes about her experience. Abby kept her eyes glued to her plate, and Fernan’s father stared at the wall. It was obvious he didn’t want to be there.

  Filomena finished her tale then changed her tone. She kept speaking in Italian, but she kept glancing at Abby. It was clear she was talking about her. Fernan responded then leaned toward her.

  “She’s just asking when we’ll have children.”

  Abby picked at her pasta. “Oh…”

  “You have to have at least two kids,” his mother said in her thick accent. “Not less than that. And you should do it soon.”

  “We will when we’re ready,” Fernan said coolly.

  His father chewed his bread then dipped it in the balsamic dressing.

  His mother was the head of the table and kept chattering away, talking about family in Tuscany and the weather. Abby became bored with the conversation. When she finished with her food, she played with the fork in her hands. She felt a sharp stare on her face, and when she looked up, his father was studying her. He looked away a moment later.

  Fernan cleared his throat then addressed his father in Italian. To her surprise, his father gave a long response. The offended expression on Fernan’s face told her he wasn’t pleased. Fernan’s response was short and controlled, but contained his frustration.

  When his father started yelling, Abby knew something bad happened. Filomena raised her voice and got in the middle of it, raising her hand to her husband’s face. When Fernan’s father was shouting, Fernan clenched his fists and stared him d
own. Then he burst, yelling at his father.

  After his father stormed out, Filomena followed and the silence descended on the table. Fernan covered his face and sighed. Abby never heard Fernan get emotional or upset, but right now he was livid. Unsure what to do, she rubbed his back.

  “My father’s bank is going under and he wants money.”

  Her hand stopped in the middle of his back. “What? The only reason why they came here was to get money from you?”

  He nodded.

  She shook her head, disgusted. “You said no, right?”

  “Of course I did. Then my father blamed the failure of the bank on me, saying if I had stuck around it wouldn’t have collapsed.”

  “Don’t listen to him,” she said gently. “You followed your dream. That’s exactly what you should have done.”

  “My father is selfish,” he said quietly. “And in my heart, I know he’ll never change.” He ran his fingers through his hair and sighed again. “I should have known they only came because they wanted something.”

  “Just your father—not both of them. Your mother seems very nice.”

  “Even when she said you were too skinny?” he asked with a smile.

  “Yeah. That’s a huge compliment.”

  “Your body is perfect.”

  “I don’t know about that.”

  “I do.” He pushed his plate away.

  It fell silent. Abby wanted to say something to make Fernan feel better but she couldn’t think of anything. His family dynamic was odd and foreign. She had no idea how to make it better.

  Filomena came back inside and looked at Fernan. “We’ll be at a hotel if you need us.”

  “You’re welcome to stay here,” Fernan said.

  She shook her head. “You know how your father is.”

  Fernan didn’t move from his chair. “Well, goodnight.”

  Filomena approached his chair and kissed him on the cheek. “Your father loves you. He just has a hard time showing it.”

  Fernan said nothing.

  “And I love you very much.”

  “I love you too,” he whispered.

  She rubbed his back then moved to Abby. “Thank you marrying my son. He deserves the most beautiful woman in the world.” She kissed her cheek. “And please give him beautiful babies.”

  “I’ll try.”

  Filomena smiled then left the apartment.

  Abby looked at all the dishes on the table. She knew she could clean it up and give Fernan a break. She stood up and reached for them.

  Fernan grabbed her hand. “Don’t worry about it.”

  “I don’t mind.”

  “You want to help me?”

  “Of course, Fernan.”

  “Sleep with me tonight.”

  Her heart stopped for a moment in time.

  “Just to sleep,” he said quickly. “I’m just—too depressed right now.”

  “Okay. I will.”

  ‘Thank you.” Fernan walked into the bedroom then unbuttoned his shirt. When it was off, his naked torso was prevalent. Normally, Abby was aroused by the sight, but she didn’t feel anything. It was like the desire had disappeared.

  “What?” he asked.

  “Nothing.” She turned away and grabbed a t-shirt from his drawer.

  “Are you sure everything’s alright? I know you were nervous about my parents, but there seems to be something else on your mind.” He removed his jeans then crawled into bed.

  Abby pulled on a pair of his shorts then lay beside him in bed. She stared at the ceiling, remembering her last conversation with Toby. But she knew Fernan was in pain, and she shouldn’t bring it up. “I’ve just been in a weird mood…”

  “I thought you would never lie to me.” He turned on his side and looked at her face.

  Abby was surprised he could tell. “How did you know?”

  “Your voice changes. It’s a tone I’ve never heard.”

  She sighed. “Let’s talk about it another time.”

  “Why?” He wrapped his arm around her waist.

  “I know you’re in pain, and I don’t want to make everything about me.”

  He shrugged. “I’m upset about my parents but there’s nothing I can do about it. Maybe there’s something we can do about yours.”

  “No, there isn’t,” she said sadly.

  “Let’s give it a try.”

  She took a deep breath. “Toby came over last night because he wanted to get back together.”

  “Isn’t that what you wanted?”

  “But when he saw the engagement ring, he got upset. He thinks I’m lying about ending things with you. And he wants nothing to do with me.”

  Fernan shook his head slightly then sighed. “Abby, I’m so sorry. I didn’t even think about him seeing it.”

  “It’s not your fault. I wasn’t expecting him to randomly show up at my place. It’s like we aren’t meant for each other, destiny wants to keep us apart.”

  Fernan’s eyes softened when he looked at her. “That’s because you’re meant for someone else.” His voice was so quiet, it was almost a whisper.

  Abby knew exactly what he meant. Fernan was perfect for her in every way. They had mature and meaningful conversations about life and art. She and Toby argued about the shape of dog poop in the park, and constantly bickered about every little thing. The men were too different to be compared.

  “But I am sorry that happened. You deserve the man you really want.”

  Abby didn’t think she deserved anything.

  “And I’m always here for you if you need me.”

  “I know, Fernan.”

  “I realize this sounds insensitive, but I can give you the comfort and love you need—when you’re ready.”

  Abby knew Fernan was happy she couldn’t work it out with Toby, but she also knew he was genuinely sympathetic toward her plight. She wished she never walked into that firm and punched Toby in the jaw. Even then, the sexual tension began.

  “My sister is pregnant.” It was a random statement, but she didn’t know what else to say.

  He sat up. “Really?”

  She nodded.

  “That’s wonderful.”

  “I know. I’m really happy for her.”

  “Does that mean you two are okay?” he asked.

  “I think so. In light of her news, we both let it go.”

  He smiled. “That’s the nice thing about family. When bigger things come along, they bond together.”

  “She’s moving up the wedding so she can fit into her dress.”

  “How does Blaise feel about it?”

  She remembered the wide smile on his face. His joy radiated through his pores. “He’s ecstatic.”

  “Good. He should be.”

  “But Alex still wants to go to school, so I’ll be on baby duty a lot. I hope that’s okay…”

  “Will you be bringing their child to work?”

  “I don’t know what else to do with her.”

  He nodded. “That’s fine. I’ll be her uncle someday anyway.”

  Abby flinched at his words. She understood his thoughts better than anyone, but his forwardness caught her off guard.

  “I’m sorry,” he said quickly. “Since you and Toby are over…I just assumed we’d get together eventually. I’m not pressuring you.”

  “I need some time before we start talking about stuff like that. And I wouldn’t want to start anything until I was over him—a clean start.”

  “I agree.” He rubbed her back gently and closed his eyes. “Thanks for staying with me. I’ve never been a snuggler and I never have dates spend the night because I hate sharing my bed. But with you, I never want you to leave. I feel cold and alone.”

  She placed her hand on his arm and dragged her fingers across the skin. “I wish things were different…”

  “Give it time.”

  Abby pulled the wedding band off her finger and placed it on the nightstand. “I guess I don’t need this anymore.”

  Fernan wat
ched her but didn’t comment. He stared at her face until he closed his eyes. Abby stared at the ceiling until her eyes grew heavy. She wondered what Toby was doing, and that was her last thought before she fell asleep.

  Chapter Seventeen

  When she met Toby the next day, she had a heavy heart. She wasn’t sure how to act around him.

  He approached the park bench, wearing a t-shirt and running shorts. The stoic expression on his face told her he didn’t intend to discuss the previous incidenct. And she wasn’t sure if she should even bother to defend herself.

  “Are you ready?” he asked. He placed his foot on the bench and tightened his shoelaces.

  “Yes.” Her voice was hollow and empty. She was depressed and she didn’t bother hiding it.

  “You don’t seem pumped up. Have you even stretched?”

  “Stretching is a waste of time.”

  He switched to his other foot and adjusted the laces. “Oh really? You’re an expert now?”

  “I teach a self-defense class. And according to research, it increases injury to your tendons. If stretching is required, it should be after aerobics.”

  Toby stretched his legs. “I don’t buy it.”

  She crossed her arms over her chest and watched him. “Fernan and I aren’t together. And we certainly aren’t engaged.”

  “I couldn’t care less, Abby.”

  “It seemed like you cared yesterday.”

  ‘That was then. This is now.” He stood up straight and looked her in the eye. He leaned on one foot, his shoulders slightly uneven. The disappointed look in his eyes went straight to her heart.

  “I broke up with him days ago. There’s nothing between us. And I made it very clear I only want you.”

  “And yet, he still wanted you to pretend to be his wife?”

  “I was helping him as a friend. And I’m glad I did. His parents pulled a number on him, and he needed me. I’m sorry if it seemed like I was lying, but I swear I wasn’t.”

  He held up his hand. “Save your time and breath. I’m not listening to this bullshit anymore.”

  “It’s not bullshit,” she snapped. “I love you and you love me. Now let’s just be together instead of wasting all this time.”

  “Wasting time? We’re never getting back together. So no, time isn’t being wasted.”