Chapter 7
Sunlight streamed into the room by the time Abigail opened her eyes. She hadn’t expected to be able to sleep, but she must have slept deeply since she hadn’t heard Simeon come to bed last night or get up this morning.
She reached for her phone to check the time. Nine o’clock.
That meant Simeon had already left for work. And she needed to get up and get ready. Her shift started at ten.
Which meant she didn’t have time to lie here and think about the adoption paperwork and what she’d tell Simeon. Hopefully the answer would magically come to her by the time they both got home from work.
She grabbed a flowy green dress that didn’t hug her curves too tightly and headed for the bathroom.
A scraping sound from down the hallway drew her up short.
She knew the sound well. It was the sound of Simeon’s office chair sliding against the floor. But he should have left for work at least an hour ago.
Was someone else in there?
Abigail tiptoed down the hallway, careful to avoid the floorboard in front of the bathroom that creaked. Simeon’s office door was ajar, and Abigail carefully poked her head around it.
Simeon stood hunched over his desk, his arm moving as if he were writing something.
Abigail let out a breath. “You scared me. I thought someone broke in.”
Simeon didn’t even jump at her voice. He turned to her with a smile. “Good morning. I was just writing you a note.”
“What are you still doing home?”
“I didn’t have a client first thing this morning, and I wanted to finish these up.” He held up a stack of papers and waved them in the air with a grin. “I was just marking the spots where you need to sign.”
“I— Sign?” She stared at the papers. She couldn’t read them from across the room. But she could make out the logo of the adoption agency. “Are those the papers we got last night?”
Simeon nodded proudly. “All done.”
Abigail blinked at him. “Done? Did you sleep at all?”
“A little.” Simeon ran a hand over his slightly mussed hair. “I figure it’s good practice for when we get a baby.”
“Simeon.” She couldn’t let him keep hoping like this.
He glanced at his watch. “I have to fly. I have a client in twenty minutes. All you have to do is sign in the spots where I left a sticky note.” He crossed the room and set the papers into her hands, which she didn’t remember lifting to take them.
“There’s an envelope on my desk,” Simeon continued. “Just stick them in there when you’re done and pop them in the mail.”
He bent to give her a quick kiss. “See you tonight.”
Before she could even say his name, he was out the office door. She could only stare at the spot where he’d been standing a moment ago.
“Hey, Abigail?” Simeon’s voice sounded like it was coming from the stairs.
“Yeah?” She stepped into the hallway, the papers still clutched in her hands.
“This is really happening.” His grin was boyish and charming and hopeful and all the things Abigail had fallen in love with. “We could have a baby soon. I mean, I know the home study will take a few months, but after that . . . Man alive.” He shook his head in wonder. “We could be parents.”
Abigail nodded dumbly, incapable of opening her mouth and puncturing his happiness.
He turned and bounded down the stairs, his “I love you” drifting up behind him as the front door opened and closed.
“Love you too,” she whispered.
The adoption papers seared against her fingers, and she carried them back into the office and spread them out on Simeon’s desk. He had marked all the spots she needed to sign with efficient little sticky notes.
Most of the forms, it would be no big deal to sign. But that one piece of paper stared up at her. Consent for Criminal Background Check.
She scanned the desk for a pen. Maybe she could sign it. After all, the charges against her had been dropped in return for her testimony, so maybe they wouldn’t even show up on her record. She’d never asked. She’d never realized it would be an issue.
There. A black pen peeked out at her from under the papers. Abigail fished it out.
Simeon wanted a child so badly. And she wanted him to have one. He deserved a family. If it turned out that her crimes didn’t show up on a background check, then he would never have to know there was any question.
She set her pen to the paper and scribbled her name before she could change her mind.
She gathered the papers up, tapping their edges against the desk to make a neat stack. Then she grabbed the pre-addressed envelope and stuffed the papers inside so she wouldn’t have to see them anymore.
She hurried to get ready for work. On her way out the door, she slipped back into Simeon’s office and grabbed the envelope. There was a mailbox a couple of blocks from the Book Den.
The drive downtown was much too short. All the way there, she was too aware of the envelope, sitting on the passenger seat. Accusing her.
She parked her car behind the Book Den, then started on the short walk to the mailbox. But the closer she got, the harder it was to move her feet.
If those charges against her did show up . . .
Simeon will leave.
By the time she reached the mailbox, her breath heaved in and out as if she’d just been involved in a foot chase, and she stared at the envelope clutched in her hands. It stared back at her, taunting her. Was she really going to do this?
She lifted the envelope to the slot.
But her fingers refused to let it go.
She yanked it back and tucked it under her arm. Sprinting now, she raced back toward the Book Den, to the dumpster that sat squished between two storefronts.
Guilt pulsed from the papers into her skin, and she glanced over her shoulder like a criminal.
Then, with a quick, decisive movement, she lifted the lid of the dumpster and tossed the envelope inside.
Nausea overtook her as the envelope thudded on the empty bottom, and she had to bend over and rest her hands on her knees to keep from throwing up.
What have you done? her heart cried. Climb in there and get those papers back.
She shook her head. She’d done what she had to do. With any luck, it would be a few weeks before Simeon even realized the adoption agency hadn’t gotten the papers. She could claim they must have gotten lost in the mail—and maybe it was a sign they weren’t meant to adopt.
A fresh bout of queasiness rolled over her, but she straightened and smoothed her dress. Then she sped away from the dumpster before she could change her mind.