Chapter 72
CHAPTER 72
ABIGAIL
F ootsteps rang out behind me, echoing as their owner raced across the expansive foyer to catch up. The Astors’ house was more like a palace than a home, the ceilings high and domed and the spaces so big that they should’ve felt light and airy.
They didn’t. To me, right now, it felt like every last drop of oxygen had been sucked right out of this place. “Abi! Wait up. Abs, please. Don’t listen to that old goblin.”
Pain underscored every one of Simon’s words, but I didn’t stop moving. Not until I’d burst outside through the wide, double front doors and it finally felt like I could breathe again. My car was right there, at the bottom of the stairs to the driveway.
I could get out of here in less than a minute once I decided to leave, and as I took large gulps of the cool, fresh evening air, I couldn’t decide if I should make that decision quite yet. Instead, the only decision I made was to put off the other decision.
Allowing my gaze to sweep across their front yard, I took in the tall trees and the freshly cut green grass. I focused on the flower beds and the pebbles in the long driveway that led down to their ornately designed metal gates.
Finally, I felt my heartbeat starting to slow and oxygen infused my lungs. My heart was still breaking, but at least the rest of my body was coming back online. Behind me, I heard Simon’s footsteps slow, but I didn’t turn to look at him.
“The letter was a mistake, Abs,” he said quietly, but I heard the gravity in his tone. “I wasn’t going to give it to you. That’s why it was in my desk and not in your hand.”
My throat burned with the intensity of the emotions rising up from deep within. “Why would you write it, then? Why would you say those things to your father?”
“Those words he was throwing around were said, but only to keep him from knowing that we were together. At the time, I thought it was better that way. Safer for you.”
I sank my teeth into my lower lip, feeling tears welling on my eyelids but still not turning to look at him. “If that was true, you wouldn’t have written the letter to follow it up.”
“I wrote the letter to work through the jumbled thoughts in my head. George has been messing with my mind for a long time, Abi. You know that. I won’t deny that there was a time in these last few weeks that I thought we’d be better off as coworkers only, but again, that was because I thought you’d be better off without me. That monster ruins everything good in my life.”
Hurt tore through me, ripping apart my insides, but as much as I wanted to tell him that wasn’t true, that I wouldn’t be better off without him, I couldn’t bring myself to say the words. “I don’t want to be without you, Simon. But that was way too much for me. I need some time.”
Finally hugging my arms around myself, I turned to face him, horrified at the agony etched into his features, his lips parted and his brow furrowed. Frankly, I knew the pain he was in. I was feeling it too, but that didn’t mean that either of us should just ignore the issues.
“You should take that time to think too.” I wasn’t proud of how much my voice was shaking, but I was damn proud that I was managing to get the words out at all. “Can we ever be anything if George keeps coming between us? Likely not, Si. I need some space and I want you to really think about what a life with me would look like.”
His lips twisted. “I know what a life with you would look like, and that’s what I want, Abs.”
“Yeah, well, this time, I’m going to need you to clean up your messes before we even start thinking about a future together. I won’t subject myself to that for the rest of my life. Tonight was a literal nightmare.”
Holding his gaze for a long moment, I looked into those greens eyes I loved so much and so many flashes of memory came to mind of all the times in the past when I’d looked into them. I remembered seeing them brimming with joy and hazy with grief. I remembered them stormy with lust and soft with love.
A sob rose up from within the deepest recesses of my soul and I spun around, raced down the steps to my car, and climbed in behind the wheel. As I gunned it down the street and left that house of horrors behind me, other memories tore through my mind.
Memories of feelings that I’d had at eighteen and how awful it was to be feeling them all over again. But right now, after learning that he’d written me yet another letter telling me that we couldn’t be anything again? I for damn sure felt a lot like I had when I’d woken up to a similar letter on my doorstep.
Will we ever actually be together without his meddling father?
Once I got home, I resigned myself to spending the next few days in a state of limbo, pain, and uncertainty. I stumbled through my foyer to my bedroom, my gaze snagging on a little ceramic pot sitting on my side table.
The sight of it pushed me over the edge. Hot tears streamed from my eyes before I could even think of stopping them. Back in the day, I’d tried to get into cooking for one as a hobby. Every time I’d seen one of these little pots, I’d bought it, trying out the recipe that had come with it.
Each pot was only big enough for a single serving—for me. I’d thought then I would be alone forever because I would never want anyone else, and now, here I was, ten years later, staring down the barrel at the same fate.
Wow . I really am screwed.
I spent the weekend replaying what had happened at dinner over and over in my mind, often drifting back to other moments that had occurred over the last few months. Simon and I had had some of the highest highs and lowest lows that we’d ever experienced together, but the one thing I’d been convinced of through it all was that, for some reason, the universe had put us on one another’s paths again. At times, I’d thought it put him on mine for closure and me on his for redemption. I’d wondered if we’d been put there for a second chance or whether fate had anything to do with it at all.
Without figuring out any answers whatsoever, I finally called my mom and told her I needed to come over.
“We’re right here, sweetheart,” she said immediately, concern thickening her tone. “Whenever you’re ready.”
I nodded lamely, leaning my head back on the cushion on my couch and letting out a soft groan. Work had been brutal today, but I’d gotten through it despite my insides feeling like they’d been lambasted.
When I eventually arrived at my parents’ house, my mom took one look at me and pulled me into her arms. “What the hell did he do this time?”
Through tears and hugs, I told her what had happened. Then I lay with my head in her lap while she stroked her fingers through my hair, thinking about everything I’d said. She let out a deep sigh and spun her wedding ring slowly around her finger.
“But he never gave you this letter or told you that was how he felt?” she questioned softly, almost like she was talking to herself.
“Nope, he didn’t say a word. I had no idea he didn’t want a romantic relationship with me again. In fact, it was quite the opposite. He’s been pursuing me ever since we ran into each other again.”
“Did you know that mental health professionals often ask people to journal their feelings?” she mused. “It’s a therapeutic tool. Simon was in therapy after Brooks’ death, wasn’t he?”
“Yes, but what does that have to do with this?” I frowned. “Do you think he was only writing those things down as a therapeutic tool?”
“I think it’s possible,” she said after thinking it over for a beat. “If he told you that at the time, he thought it would be better for you that way, it’s entirely within reason to think that he wrote it to unburden himself rather than to break things off with you.”
“Okay, but even if that’s true, I don’t know if I can stay on this rollercoaster,” I admitted on a near-whisper, my eyes squeezing shut when tears started burning the backs of them again. “I love him, Mom. I just don’t think we’re ever going to be able to be together.”
“Don’t write him off just yet, baby,” she murmured as she twisted a lock of my hair around her finger. “I believe his feelings for you are genuine. I think he loves you too. He just has a lot to figure out with his father, and unfortunately, Lisa is caught up in all that as well.”
“I know, but if Simon doesn’t set things straight with George, I’m done.” I hadn’t even been thinking about that, but as the words came out of my mouth, I knew they were true. “I don’t quite know how to be done with him, but I can’t start a life with someone if I’m going to have to fight against their parents every single day. It hurts too much, and more than that, it’s childish. We’re almost thirty. He either stands up to his father or he doesn’t, but I’m tired of getting my heart shot to smithereens in the crossfire.”
“As you should be,” she said wisely. “I wouldn’t lose faith in Simon yet though, sweetheart. He’s going to make this right. Once and for all. Now, why don’t you stay for dinner and spend the night? I’d hate to see you go home alone while you’re feeling like this.”
“That sounds good,” I agreed immediately. “Do you think I can help you make some ramen? I could really use the comfort right now.”
She chuckled. “Alright, baby. Let me just go make sure Vicky hasn’t prepared anything else for us yet.”
After gently easing my head off her lap, she stood up to go and talk to her cook and I lazily sat up. My insides were tired of crying, my chest aching after all the tears I’d spilled and blows I’d taken. Thankfully, Mom was back a minute later to say ramen was a go. She and I cooked dinner together while she kept telling me everything she knew about Simon, Lisa, and George Astor’s situation.
Dad got home just as we were finishing up, having spent the day in virtual meetings about the new Miami branch. He seemed surprised but happy that I was home, and to his credit, he didn’t ask at all what I was doing there.
Instead, we spent the night just hanging out together and watched a movie before they said goodnight. I hugged them both, suppressing a yawn as I rose from the couch I’d been on. “I’m just going to check my emails one last time before I go to bed. Sleep tight, guys. Thanks for letting me stay over.”
Mom squeezed my hand. “This will always be your home too, honey.”
“Thanks, Mom.” After having realized how lucky I was to have them while I’d been in that godforsaken Astor house, I appreciated them so much more than I had before and I was still wondering how different things might’ve been if Simon’s dad had been more like mine when I saw an email from Fit Gal.
I frowned at my laptop screen but clicked into the message. My jaw dropped when I saw what it said. “Congratulations, Abigail Walker. Walker and Co Marketing has been selected to represent Fit Gal.”
A shriek left me. “Dad! Daddy, we got them! We got Fit Gal as a client! They chose us.”
My father came running back down the stairs, his pajama pants on but his T-shirt only around his neck and one arm, but he broke into a grin as he raced over to me. “Are you serious? I knew you could do it, baby! I knew it.”
He shoved his other arm through the relevant hole, then grabbed my hands and spun me around like he used to when I was a little girl. “Oh, my love. I’m so proud of you!”
Pride and ecstatic joy raced through my veins, another extreme high in a time of profound personal sadness. I was grateful for it, though. All along, I’d known I was the right fit for them and it felt really good that they’d recognized it too.