Chapter 39
Simeon didn’t want to open his eyes. They’d been home for almost a week now, and it still felt like a dream, waking up with Abigail in his arms every morning. Sometimes he worried it was.
But he could feel her against him, solid and soft and perfect. Her breath warmed a spot in the middle of his chest, and her arm draped over his side.
He cracked one eye open to verify. The sun had already risen, its golden light giving the room a magical glow that enhanced the feeling of being in a dream. He slid a hand over her cheek, and she opened her eyes with a sleepy smile.
“Good morning,” he murmured. “You’re really here.”
“Where else would I be?” She snuggled closer to him.
Simeon swallowed and kissed her hair. He’d waited so long for her to feel that way. Like there was no question that she belonged with him.
“I should get ready for work.” The words were less than halfhearted, directed more to himself than to her.
“Do you have to go?” She laced her fingers through his, and Simeon suddenly thought that maybe he’d never go to work again. If this was a dream, maybe he could just spend all day with her.
But his phone pealed, bringing him rudely back to reality. “I’m afraid I do. But I’ll be home early for Lydia and Liam’s rehearsal.”
“Oh my goodness, I completely forgot.” Abigail kicked the covers back. “I promised Lydia I’d help finish making the centerpieces today.”
She sat upright, but Simeon caught her arm and pulled her back to him.
“Simeon,” she protested with a laugh.
“Don’t worry. I’ll let you go. But first—” He propped himself onto an elbow and leaned to kiss her. “I love you.”
She smiled up at him, her eyes wide and sincere. “I love you too.”
Every time she said it, it set his heart afire.
“Good.” With a groan of regret, he rolled away from her and pushed out of bed. His phone had stopped ringing, and he checked his notifications. But it wasn’t the missed call that caught his eye. He clicked on the text from Pastor Mateo. It was a picture of the older man and his wife—at home.
He showed the picture to Abigail.
“Thank the Lord,” she whispered, and Simeon’s heart filled again. Watching her grow again in her faith over the past couple of months had grown his own faith too.
She loved him. She loved God. Everything was perfect.
He thought of the ring he’d placed in the top drawer of his desk.
“Is it really 8:30 already?” Abigail rushed past him to the closet. “I told Lydia I’d meet her at nine.”
Simeon got up slowly. He’d let her get ready for now. But maybe tonight he’d put that ring back on her finger.
Abigail hummed along to the music on the radio as she pointed her car toward home, a giddy joy flipping through her middle.
They’d easily finished the centerpieces this morning, and everything was perfect for Lydia and Liam’s wedding tomorrow.
Just like everything was perfect for Simeon and Abigail too. Everything about their trip to Ecuador, everything about the past week at home together—it was all perfect.
She may not remember Past Abigail’s relationship with Simeon, but she dared to think that their relationship now was even better than it had been before the accident.
She turned onto their street, her heart jumping to see a black SUV in their driveway. Maybe Simeon had beaten her home.
But as she got closer, she realized it wasn’t quite the right style to be Simeon’s vehicle. She tried to recall where she might have seen it before but drew a blank.
She slowed to pull into the driveway, peering into the other vehicle, but there didn’t appear to be anyone inside.
Abigail got out of her car slowly, still trying to figure out whose vehicle it could be.
“Over here,” a woman’s voice called from the direction of the porch, and Abigail hurried around the SUV to the walk that led to the house.
Her steps faltered as she spotted the woman sitting on the wicker chair under the front window.
But Wendy waved as if they were old friends and pushed to her feet. “It’s such a beautiful day, I thought I might as well sit out here and wait for you.”
“Wait for me?” Abigail asked warily, climbing the porch steps.
“To give you this.” Wendy held out a manila envelope.
“What is it?” Abigail loosened the sealed flap.
“A copy of your divorce papers. My boss was going through her files, and when I explained to her about your accident, she realized you might have lost the papers, so she asked me to— Are you okay?”
Abigail groped for the porch railing, but her vision had gone all wavery, and she couldn’t find it. “Yeah. I’m— Thank you.” She stepped toward what she was pretty sure was the front door.
“You don’t look so good. Maybe you should sit.” Wendy hurried toward her and grabbed her arm, but Abigail jerked herself out of the other woman’s grip.
“I get it. You don’t want to see me.” Wendy’s voice sounded far away, even though she was still much too close. “For what it’s worth, I’m sorry about the kiss.”
Abigail whirled on the other woman, her vision suddenly going laser sharp. “What kiss?”
Wendy covered her mouth, her eyes opening wide. “He didn’ttell you?”
“What kiss?” Abigail demanded again. Her whole body had gone numb.
“It was one time,” Wendy said. “And it was my fault, really.”
“He kissed you.” Abigail didn’t even know if she was asking or telling at this point, but Wendy nodded slowly.
“When?” The word blasted right past the numbness.
Wendy touched her lips, as if reliving the kiss. “A couple of weeks ago?”
“A couple of . . .” Abigail grabbed for the door handle, fumbling it open. She was going to be sick.
“Abigail, wait. I—”
But Abigail slammed the door behind her and sprinted upstairs to the bathroom. Tears mingled with the vomit as she heaved over the toilet.
When she had nothing left in her, she rinsed her mouth and washed her face and walked numbly into the bedroom. She dropped to the edge of the bed and finished opening the envelope Wendy had given her, barely able to grab the papers with her trembling fingers.
Once she had them out, she could only stare at the words.
Petition for Divorce.Her name. Simeon’s name.
Her eyes tracked to the bottom of the form. The date was the date of the accident. And the signature—that was hers.
She blinked at it.
None of this made any sense. She and Simeon were in love. They had been before the accident, and they were now.
Weren’t they?
She wrapped her arms around herself and rocked forward.
They were getting divorced. Simeon was kissing other women.
Most of her life was missing. And what was left of it was a lie.