Saved by Love (Willow Valley Book 3)(39)
“Then I don’t have much of a choice, do I?” he said, the pain in his chest more intense than anything he’d ever felt in his life.
She began crying again, and he put his arms around her and held her tightly against his chest as if his life depended on it, knowing this could very well be the last time he would ever hold her close.
CHAPTER THIRTEEN
It was exactly what she’d planned to say, to do. But her heart didn’t seem to get the message. Instead, it defied all her logical reasoning as it constricted in her chest. She thought she’d known what a broken heart was before, but never had she experienced the heartache that she felt now.
Clinging to Ethan’s chest, she cried until she had no tears left, and still he held her, stroking her back, running his hands through her hair. She finally lifted her head and looked at him, only to see that he didn’t look much better than she did.
“I’ll take you home,” he said quietly, his face resigned.
She nodded as he stood up, then grasped his hand as he started to turn away. He glanced back down at her. “For what it’s worth, I’m sorry. And I meant it when I said I lo—”
“Don’t,” he said tersely. “Please.” This time a little softer. “I can’t keep hearing you say that if there’s nothing I can do about it.” He gently extricated his hand from hers and started toward the car. “Come on.”
Everything in her wanted to scream at his retreating back that she didn’t mean it. But she had to mean it. She had to protect herself. This pain felt like it was going to be the end of her, but she knew it would be much worse later on if she didn’t put a stop to things now. Sighing in defeat, she got up and followed him to the car, where he waited by her open door.
The drive back to the apartments was silent torture. When they finally got there and climbed from his car, he looked at her as if he didn’t know what to say. In that moment she knew she couldn’t stay there that night. Knowing he was just downstairs would make it too tempting for her to take everything back and beg him to forgive her for hurting him.
She dug in her purse for her keys and rushed to her car. She had to get away from him before she threw herself back in his arms. Right before she closed the door, she looked at him one more time. He met her eyes, the blue-green of his reminding her of the sea that would always make her think of him.
“Goodbye, Ethan.”
“Bye, Abby.”
She pulled out of the parking lot in a rush before he could see the fresh tears rolling down her cheeks. She didn’t know where she was going, just that she couldn’t be there.
She drove mindlessly around town until the tissue box she kept in her glove compartment was empty and there were wadded up tissues all over her floor. She couldn’t do this all night. But where did she have to go? She didn’t want to unload this on Jesse and Lissa right now. They were probably enjoying a night at home together.
The next thing she knew she was sitting in front of Charles and Denise’s old Victorian house. It was only logical. They were the only parents she had left, and where else had she always run with a broken heart but to her mother? She walked up the steps to the front door and rang the bell.
When Denise opened the door and saw her standing there, she couldn’t even begin to imagine how she must look. Denise’s hands flew to her mouth and she pushed open the screen door.
“Honey, what on earth happened? Are you okay?” She gathered Abby into her arms and patted her back.
“Denise? Who’s there?” It was her father’s voice coming from down the hall.
“It’s Abby, Charles.” Denise ushered her into the living room and settled her down on the sofa. “Well, you look like you aren’t hurt. Physically, anyway. Let me put on some tea and bring you a blanket. You’re shivering.” She disappeared through the doorway leading to the kitchen.
Abby looked down and saw that she was shaking. How had Ethan ever thought she was strong? She’d been reduced to a sniveling mess. She knew she was a pretty sad sight, but when her father walked into the room and took one look at her, raising his eyebrows in shock, she knew it was bad.
“Abigail? What’s wrong?” She hated that he called her that, but then again, they weren’t on familiar enough terms for her to even call him Dad.
Before she could stop herself, she’d poured out the whole sordid story. When she was done, she saw Denise standing at the back of the room, nodding at Charles—who was watching her with a semi-horrified expression—to go sit by her. She couldn’t believe she had just told him all the details of her love life. They had no relationship to speak of, he’d shown no interest in really getting to know her since she’d arrived in town, yet here she was airing every last bit of her dirty laundry.
She wanted to bury her face in her hands.
So she couldn’t have been more surprised when he actually sat down beside her and patted her back. Granted, it was a bit awkward, but for the first time ever it looked like he was making an effort. Denise came over and set the tea cups and a plate of chocolate chip cookies on the table.
“I have milk, too, if you’d prefer that with your cookies. That’s what Jesse likes.”
She sniffled. “This is fine. Thank you.”
Denise handed her a box of tissues then sat down on the chair opposite from Charles and Abby, glancing pointedly at her husband.