Chapter 26
Chapter
Twenty-Six
ABBY
The sun rose, casting shadowy stripes across Cooper’s bedroom as I untangled myself from his arms.
A greater shadow was looming in the distance.
I gazed upon him, taking in the slow rise and fall of his chest and the way his hair curled at his hairline. I memorized every line and crease etched across his beautiful face.
Then I closed my eyes and stood from the bed.
Slipping back into my sundress, I exited the bedroom, stepping quietly through his quaint bungalow.
As I made my way out through the back door and walked to Cooper’s pier, I couldn’t help but notice the choir of songbirds chirping overhead.
I looked up at the sky, sadness creeping in as I stared up at the birds in the same way a child might mourn a wayward balloon floating up to the clouds.
Sighing, I continued my trek to the dock.
I stood at the edge, gazing out at the gently rippling water splashing along the sides. A breeze swept through, and while it wasn’t cold, I wrapped my arms around myself as a chill ghosted across my skin. Then I reached into the small side pocket of my dress and pulled out a folded-up letter.
My eyes scanned the familiar cursive writing.
I’d always loved the way Nana wrote; even in her old age, her handwriting had never wavered, remaining as perfect as it’d ever been.
I reread the letter one last time, imagining Nana’s voice speaking directly to me, then clutched it to my chest like a long-lost hug.
And with a deep breath, I tossed the letter into the lake.
I watched it float along the surface, ebbing and flowing downstream with the morning breeze.
“Abby?”
I whirled around, startled by the sound of his voice. “Cooper.”
“You should have woken me up. We could have watched the sunrise together,” he said, a smile pulling at his lips as he approached.
Don’t do that. Don’t smile like that.
Cooper joined me at the edge of the dock and wrapped his arms around my waist, sighing deeply into my hair. When I stiffened in response, he noticed, stepping back slightly with worry in his eyes.
“Everything okay?”
I couldn’t look at him.
Closing my eyes, I ducked my head, forcing out the words that had been haunting me since my brother’s offer at the hospital. “I’m leaving, Cooper,” I whispered. “I’m leaving Crow’s Peak.”
The resounding silence curdled my stomach.
I found the courage to glance up at him, then immediately wished I hadn’t.
He looked shattered. Confused.
Like I’d just thrust a dagger through his beating heart.
My eyes watered as I tried to explain. “I-I have to. Ryan asked me to come home, and I need to fix my relationship with him. I need to fix a lot of things.”
He stood there, wooden, as a bevy of emotions splashed across his face. “Are you coming back?”
“Someday,” I replied softly. “When I’m better.”
Cooper looked unconvinced. “So…this is it? This is goodbye?”
My heart clenched as if he were squeezing the organ in his fist, and it screamed out in pain. I nodded while the tears began to slide down my cheeks.
I was expecting a grand speech.
I was expecting him to beg me to stay, to profess his love, to promise me we could get through anything together.
To hold me tight and never let me go.
But he didn’t do any of those things.
I reached for his hand; he pulled away.
And it hurt.
So badly.
I sucked in a breath and almost choked on the weight of it. “I’ll come back for you, Cooper. I—”
“No, you won’t.” He bent forward and planted a quick kiss on my forehead. “But thanks for saying it.”
Then he turned around and stalked off the pier, disappearing into his house.
I crumbled.
Falling to my knees, I buried my face in my hands and mourned the loss of my happily ever after.
Cooper
I paced back and forth through my living room, shoving a hand through my hair and kicking a pillow that had slipped off the couch.
The couch we’d made love on, less than twelve hours ago.
I was gutted. Thrown.
Numb.
I refused to beg.
I wouldn’t list the bullet points as to why our love story was one for the ages, one of the books, or how our hearts were made to beat in perfect time, or how I had fucking died the moment I’d thought I’d lost her.
No—I wouldn’t spew logic at her. I wouldn’t break it fucking down.
If Abby didn’t already know these things, then it was better that she go.
I would heal, given time. Maybe someday I’d forget her crooked smile, the scent of her tangerine skin, and the way she’d made me laugh out loud.
I’d forget the sound she made when I kissed the spot on her neck, right below her ear.
I’d forget her strength, her long hugs, her haunted violet eyes, and the way her hand had fit perfectly in mine.
I prayed that I’d forget.
I looked out the back window to where I’d left her over an hour ago. She had fallen to her knees, sobbing into the wood planks of my dock. She’d looked broken, like she didn’t want this just as much as I didn’t want this.
Then why?
Why add to our grief and suffering? Hadn’t we been through enough?
With a growl, I slammed both fists down on my dining room table, my chest heaving.
Fuck it.
I pulled out my cell phone and dialed her number. If she wanted me to beg, then goddammit, I’d beg.
The call went straight to voicemail.
I sighed.
Closing my eyes, I contemplated my next move. I could spill my guts to her in a pathetic voicemail and hope she changed her mind, or I could let her go. I could somehow move on with my life and go back to the way things were before.
Before Abby.
Before May.
Hell.
Who was I kidding?
There was no going back; I was too far gone.
Her voicemail prompt pinged, and I ambushed her with my broken heart.
“Abby, if you’re there…if you listen to this…
dammit, don’t go. I told myself I wouldn’t beg you, but the truth is, there’s nothing I wouldn’t do for you.
If you need to make amends with your brother, I understand.
I get it. Let me come with you—I’ll take some time off work and we can go together.
We can heal together. I’ve never felt this way about anyone before, and I know that means something.
I know it means more than what you’re allowing us to be. ”
I paused to take a breath and collect my thoughts as I paced the kitchen.
My gaze settled on the pier. “I see more summers out on my boat. I see marathons of ‘The Office,’ and game nights, and bad jokes, and make-out sessions against appliances. I see it all. I see a future…with you, Abby. Nothing else matters if you aren’t here.
” Drinking in a final breath, I finished with, “I’m a fighter.
I was born a fighter. But I’ll never forgive myself if I don’t fight for the most precious thing of all—you.
So…just think about it, okay? I love you… so damn much.”
I clicked off the call, tossing my phone down on the table.
Scratching my head, I pulled out a chair and sat down, feeling like an asshole for pouring my heart out to her in a voicemail message. I should have told her everything out on that dock.
But I thought she knew.
How could she not know?
I tapped my foot against the floor, my thoughts erratic. Abby’s entire life had been full of abandonment and betrayal. She was programmed to fear. She was programmed to distrust.
She was programmed to run.
I couldn’t blame her for that; she was simply wired that way.
I shot to my feet, not thinking twice before sliding into my shoes and racing out the front door. I ran to Daphne’s house. I ran the whole damn mile to her ranch on Sullivan Hill, not stopping to breathe, think, or process my next move. All I needed was to see her, to hold her, to tell her to stay.
Stay, Abby…
I knocked on Daphne’s screen door, pounding my fist against the rickety frame.
“Jeez Louise, I’m coming!” Daphne shouted, her footsteps approaching. She whipped open the door, lifting an aggravated eyebrow when she spotted me. “Oh, it’s you. If you’re here about that parking ticket, I’m going to pay it eventually.”
“I’m here for Abby.”
Daphne studied me through the screen, tugging her lip between her teeth, a flash of sympathy in her eyes. “Sorry, McAllister. You just missed her. She left about fifteen minutes ago.”
I deflated, my hands pressed up against the door as I bent forward, head down.
“Am I witnessing the part in a romance movie, where the hero chases after the girl, but it’s too late, and his heart is broken, blah blah blah, cue the angst and tears?” she chirped, pushing open the door and poking her head out.
Stepping back, I exhaled a sigh of defeat. “Yeah. I think you are.”
“Well, she forgot her phone, so there’s no chance of calling her, either.
I’ll have to mail it to her.” Daphne pulled Abby’s cell phone out of her back pocket and waved it around in her hand.
Then she tilted her head to the side as she regarded me.
“Damn. This is actually kind of sad. Do you want a hug or something?”
I shook my head.
I didn’t want a damn hug. I didn’t want her pity.
The only thing I wanted was gone.
Abby
I pulled into Kate’s driveway with my heart in my throat, mentally preparing for our final goodbye.
I hadn’t seen Kate since the morning of the shooting. The last memory I had was of Kate falling at my feet with a bullet in her back and a look of shock and horror on her face.
It haunted me, kept me away. It confined me to a box of shame, and I’d been unable to face the consequences of my crimes.
But I needed to face her.
I needed to say goodbye.
My fingers curled around the steering wheel as I sat in the gravel driveway in front of Kate’s house, anxiety churning in my stomach. In the backseat, Cupcake mewled from her carrier, a soft encouragement pushing me to face what needed to be done.
Deep breath.
I exited the car on wilting feet, the lump in my throat growing larger by the second. As I stood on Kate’s front stoop, fonder memories washed over me from the last time I’d been here—Game Night.