Chapter 17 - Pippa
As we walked to his car, I could feel Abe's eyes on me, practically burning with questions. On reaching closer, I turned toward him. “Um, I was thinking I could drive today if that’s okay?”
Surprise flashed across his face. "Sure, if you want. Where are we headed?"
I bit my lip, avoiding his curious stare. "You'll see."
I slid behind the wheel, my hands gripping the steering wheel tightly. The drive was quiet, peaceful. I could see Abe glancing at me from the corner of my eye, his brow furrowed in confusion.
"Everything okay, Pippa?" he finally asked, his voice gentle.
I nodded, not trusting myself to speak. My heart was racing, anxiety clawing at my chest. This was it. I was about to share a piece of myself I'd kept hidden for so long.
But what if he saw me differently? What if this changed everything between us? The thought made my stomach churn.
I took a deep breath, squaring my shoulders. No. Abe wasn't like that. He may be arrogant and blunt, but he'd shown me a softer side too. One that made me want to let down my walls, just a little for him.
As we neared our destination, I felt Abe tense beside me. "Pippa," he said slowly, realization dawning. "Are we going where I think we're going?"
I swallowed hard, turning onto the familiar winding road. "Yes," I whispered. "We’re heading to the graveyard.”
***
As I pulled into the graveyard's quiet parking lot, my hands trembled on the steering wheel. I cut the engine, but I couldn't bring myself to move. This moment pressed down on me, making it hard to breathe.
Abe's large hand covered mine, his touch unexpectedly gentle. "Take your time," he murmured softly.
I nodded, grateful for his patience. He had no idea why I brought him here, and yet, he doesn’t need to know. In this moment, the space he’s giving me is exactly what I need and for that, I realize I’m a lucky girl. After a deep breath, I pushed open the car door and stepped out on shaky legs. Abe was by my side in an instant, his solid presence both comforting and nerve-wracking.
"Actually, this might be a dumb idea. If you want to leave, we can" I said in a moment of weakness, fiddling with the hem of my blouse.
Abe's eyes met mine, surprisingly tender. "I have no idea why we’re here, but trust me, I want to know."
A wave of relief went through my body and I looked up at him with a gingerly smile.
He took my hand and we walked side by side down the narrow path, gravel crunching beneath our feet. The graveyard was eerily beautiful, with ancient trees allowing the moonlight to filter in through their branches. Marble headstones stood in solemn rows, reminding us of how fleeting time and life can be.
At last, we reached our destination. I paused, my eyes fixed on the twin headstones. Standing before my parents’ plot, a lump formed in my throat. Longing, sorrow, and grief came rattling through my soul.
"They would have liked you," I whispered, surprising myself with the admission. "Well, maybe not at first. Dad would've been suspicious of your tattoos."
“Your parents?” Abe whispered.
I nodded, in too much pain to speak.
Abe interlinked his fingers through mine. "And your mom?"
I smiled, remembering her warm laugh. "She would've charmed you in five minutes flat. You wouldn't have stood a chance."
He laughed. “So, you got that from her.”
In that moment, I knew I had made the right decision to bring him there. I knelt down, tracing the engraved letters of their names with my fingertips. "Mom was a force of nature. She could light up a room just by walking in, you know? And Dad… he was the calm to her storm. They balanced each other perfectly."
Abe settled beside me, his shoulder brushing mine. "Tell me more," he encouraged softly.
I closed my eyes, letting the memories wash over me. "I was young when they passed, but I have certain memories. Or feelings, rather. Sunday mornings were sacred in our house. Dad would make these ridiculous pancakes—he'd try to shape them into animals, but they always ended up looking like blobs. Mom and I would laugh so hard, but we'd eat every last bite."
My voice cracked slightly, but I pressed on. "They taught me to be strong, but they also showed me how to be kind, how to love fiercely. They never meant to teach me that, but I learned it from how they loved one another."
I opened my eyes to find Abe watching me intently, his expression unreadable. "They sound like amazing people," he said quietly.
"They were," I whispered, wiping away a stray tear. "I miss them every day."
Abe was silent for a long moment, his jaw clenching and unclenching. When he finally spoke, his voice was low and raw. "My mother… she wasn't as lucky as yours."
I turned to face him, surprised by the vulnerability in his usually confident demeanor.
"Our father," he continued, his eyes fixed on the horizon, "he was a cruel man. Drunk most of the time, violent when he wasn't. My brothers and I… we learned to be quiet, to stay out of his way. But our mother, she bore the brunt of his rage to protect us."
My heart ached for the pain in his voice, plummeting to my stomach. I felt angry at his father, for having done that to a woman who raised such an amazing son. I reached out, hesitantly placing my hand over his. He didn't pull away.
"She tried to protect us, you know?" Abe's voice was barely above a whisper. "Even when she was bruised and broken, she'd smile and tell us everything was okay. But we knew. We always knew."
I squeezed Abe's hand gently, feeling the roughness of his calloused palm against my softer skin. The contrast was stark, much like the differences in our upbringings, yet in this moment, we were connected by shared pain and understanding of loss.
"Abe," I murmured, my voice catching slightly. "I'm so sorry you had to go through that.”
He turned to me, his eyes intense with a mix of vulnerability and strength I'd never seen before. "It's why I am who I am today," he said, his thumb absently tracing circles on the back of my hand. "Why I fight so hard to protect those I care about. I couldn’t save her, you know? One night, in a fit of rage, he shot her dead. I was watching them fight, but Ivan took me and Vlad away from the scene. I heard him kill her.”
Tears welled in my eyes as I listened to his harrowing story, the unimaginable cruelty of his past hurting me in the present. Without a second thought, I wrapped my arms around Abe, offering whatever solace I could give. His frame stiffened at first, unaccustomed to such tenderness, but eventually, he melted into the embrace, his walls crumbling further with each hitched breath he took.
"I get it," I whispered. "After losing my parents and being raised by an aunt and uncle who pointed out every mistake I ever made, I threw myself into work, into being perfect. It was my way of protecting myself."
Abe nodded, a ghost of a smile playing on his lips. "We're quite the pair, aren't we?"
I couldn't help but laugh, the sound breaking the tension. "God, we really are."
For a long time, we held onto each other in that quiet corner of the graveyard, where the only sounds were those of the night.
***
The weeks that followed were a whirlwind of stolen moments and growing closeness. Movie nights where Abe's arm would casually drape over my shoulders, his fingers playing with my curls. Coffee runs where he'd tease me about my elaborate order, but always remembered it perfectly.
There were quiet evenings in his office, where I'd catch him watching me over stacks of paperwork, his gaze soft and warm. A few mornings, I felt too sick. Got some food poisoning, perhaps? For those few days, he’d bring me breakfast in bed and insist I stay home. He covered for me at the casino.
One particularly memorable night, we found ourselves caught in a sudden downpour while we walked through his estate. Abe pulled me under an awning, both of us laughing as we shook water from our clothes. He reached out, gently tucking a wet strand of hair behind my ear. The touch sent shivers down my spine that had nothing to do with the cold rain.
With each passing day, I felt the walls I'd built around my heart slowly crumbling. Abe, in all his tattooed, pierced, suit-wearing glory, was becoming more than just my boss or even a friend. He was becoming someone I couldn't imagine my life without.
***
Three weeks later, as I sat at the breakfast table at his house all alone, with everyone having had an early start to the day, I rubbed my temples for what felt like the hundredth time that morning. The dull throb behind my eyes had been persistent for days, but I'd chalked it up to eye strain from late nights working. I blinked hard, trying to focus on the newspaper in front of me.
"You okay there, Pippa?" Abe's deep voice startled me. I hadn't heard him approach. “We’re going to run late for work.”
I looked up to see him fully dressed, leaning at the doorway, and then realized I was still in my pajamas.
“Oh shit,” I gasped, rising to my feet. A wave of dizziness came over me, and I sat back down. “What time is it?”
My voice was weak, but I plastered on a smile when he rushed over to my side, his hands reaching out to check if I was okay.
"I’m fine. This new hiring cycle has been tiring, that’s all.”
Abe's eyes narrowed, his gaze sweeping over me. "You're pale. And you've barely touched your coffee."
I waved him off. "It's nothing. I'm just tired."
He leaned against the table, arms folded across his broad chest. "Pippa," he said, his tone softening, "you don't have to put on a brave face for me."
I sighed, my resolve crumbling under his concern. "I've been feeling a bit off lately. Probably just a bug going around."
In an instant, Abe was crouching beside my chair, his hand on my forehead. "Thank god, no fever. But why didn't you say something sooner? Could it be that what we mistook for food poisoning was something else?"
"I didn't want to make a fuss," I admitted, suddenly feeling small under his intense gaze. “And yeah. Could have been a bug.”
Abe's jaw clenched, but his touch remained gentle as he helped me to my feet. "That's it. You're staying home to rest, and I'm taking care of you."
"But we have a dozen interviews—”
"Can wait. I’ll call the office and have them rescheduled." He finished firmly. "You're more important."
As he led me to my bedroom, his arm protectively around my waist, I couldn't help but lean into his solid warmth. Despite my protests, a part of me relished in his care, in feeling looked after for the first time in years.
***
The sharp trill of Abe's phone shattered the quiet of my bedroom. I watched his brow furrow as he answered, his voice low and tense. After a brief exchange, he turned to me, conflict etched across his face.
"I have to go," he said, running a hand through his dark hair. "There's an… issue that needs my immediate attention."
I nodded and gave him a smile. "Of course. Go, I'll be fine."
Abe hesitated. "You're sure?"
"Positive," I assured him in a chirpy voice. "I'm a big girl, Abe. I can handle a little bug."
He made way for the door but turned back before leaving. "I'll be back as soon as I can. Rest, okay? If you need anything , call me."
He made me promise before he left.
As the door clicked shut behind him, the silence of the apartment engulfed me. I sank deeper into the bed, my mind racing. The nausea, the fatigue, the dizziness—I'd been chalking it up to stress. Now, with Abe wondering if it was a bug, my mind began to spin.
Had I truly been sick, the symptoms wouldn’t have come and gone only to return in such a random manner now, would it? Some days, I threw up. On other days, I had headaches coming and going. The fatigue hit worst in the afternoons, but I had energy in the mornings.
It just didn’t make any sense. It couldn’t have been a bug. And I had faced a lot more stress in the past.
Was I…?
I picked up my phone and quickly looked at my menstrual app. Suddenly, the pieces fell into place like a cruel jigsaw puzzle completing a painful picture. Panic surged in my chest as I realized the truth that had been lurking beneath the surface of denial. The symptoms, the timing, the endless sex with Abe—it all pointed to one undeniable conclusion. I’d been so busy, I hadn’t noticed that I missed my last period.
***
I peeked down the hallway, before rushing back to my room, clutching the purse where I tucked away a pregnancy test I stole from the medical room. Must have been Emory’s or Adley’s, but I hoped none of them would notice.
With trembling hands, I retrieved the test, staring at the innocuous pink box. My heart pounded as I made my way to the bathroom, each step feeling like a march toward a life-altering moment.
The wait was excruciating. I paced, chewing my nails, my mind a whirlwind of 'what ifs'. When the timer on my phone chimed, I nearly jumped out of my skin.
Taking a deep breath, I picked up the test. Two pink lines stared back at me, unmistakable and earth-shattering.
"Oh, God," I whispered, sinking to the cold tile floor. Tears pricked at my eyes as a maelstrom of emotions washed over me—shock, fear, and buried beneath it all, a tiny spark of joy I wasn't ready to acknowledge. This was one of the things I wanted most. Someone to call family, having been deprived of one at such a young age.
My heart hammered in my chest as I pressed a hand to my still-flat stomach, my mind reeling. How would Abe react? What would this mean for us, for my career, for everything?
As I sat there, the test clutched in my shaking hand, I realized my life had irrevocably changed in the span of three minutes. And I had no idea what to do next.
The pink lines blurred as more tears welled in my eyes. I blinked them away, my mind racing with a thousand thoughts at once. Abe's face flashed before me—his sharp jawline, those piercing blue-gray eyes that could melt me with a glance. But now, they seemed to hold an accusation I couldn't shake.
"What have we done?" I whispered to the empty bathroom.
This situationship we shared was still so new, so fragile. We'd only just started to peel back the layers of our pasts, to truly see each other. We had never discussed a relationship or love. I didn’t even know if he wanted a baby. And now this. A baby. The word felt foreign, terrifying.
I hauled myself up from the cold tile, catching my reflection in the mirror. My eyes were wide with shock, my light brown curls a mess.
"Get it together, Pippa," I muttered, wiping away my tears and standing straighter.
But the facade crumbled as quickly as I'd tried to erect it. How would Abe react? He was 45, set in his ways, with a life entrenched in the Bratva. Did he even want children? The thought of his rejection sent a chill through me.
I made my way to my bedroom, collapsing onto the bed. My hand unconsciously drifted to my stomach again. "What am I going to do with you, little one?" I whispered.
The silence of the room pressed in on me. I reached for my phone, my finger hovering over Abe's name. One call and everything would change. But I couldn't do it. Not yet. I needed time to process, to plan. I needed to figure out if he even wanted a future with me. For all I knew, he might not want anything more. He might remain with me while he protected me, before moving on to his next mission.
I put down my phone and the future stretched out before me, filled with uncertainty. But as I sat there, a tiny part of me—the part I was trying desperately to ignore—whispered of possibility. Of a future I'd never dared to imagine.
I closed my eyes, took a deep breath, and made a silent promise to the life growing inside me. "Whatever happens, we'll face it together and you’ll always have me.”