Can't Let Go(14)

“Was it painful?” She reached out to the photo now, longing for the happiness she’d felt in that moment. The four of them stood together, smiling happily at the camera.

“Abby…”

“It’s okay, Logan. I can take it.” She didn’t necessarily want to know, but she needed to. She had to know what her friends had gone through.

“Hayley—” She could tell it was difficult for him to talk about—and it was probably going to be just as difficult for her to hear. “Hayley went quickly. Blake survived until about an hour into surgery. A passerby happened to notice their car rolled over in a nearby ditch and called 9-1-1. ”

Abby imagined the scene being laid out in front of her. She saw Hayley and Blake, driving home on a near-deserted road. It was late—dark out. They were probably laughing about baby names or possible futures for their child when a deer darted out in front of them. She knew Blake—he would have done anything to avoid hurting another living thing. She saw their SUV swerve—saw it roll. It was when she saw their faces—once she imagined the heartbreak Blake must have felt as he laid there, knowing what had happened—that the room began to spin.

“Abby?” He sounded far away, though logically she knew he was within reaching distance. “Abby, are you okay?”

“I—I can’t breathe.” Her voice was hardly more than a whisper. She imagined her friends’ thought process as they faced their future—wondered how much pain there really was—both physically and emotionally. “Oh my—Logan—I—I can’t—” The tears were flowing freely and she dropped her head into her hands, everything spinning around her.

And he was at her side, touching his hands to her arms. “It’s okay, Abby. I’m here.” And he was. Logan was there—he was standing there, just in front of her. She felt the room sway again.

“She can’t be gone, Logan.” She finally broke down into sobs, allowing him to wrap his arms around her and hold her close to him. “She can’t—not Hayley. She was so alive. She wasn’t supposed to die—not yet—not—”

“Shh,” he whispered, touching her hair. Logan closed his eyes, wishing that there was some way he could take all the pain she felt into himself and bear it for her. He would give anything to make her feel just the slightest bit better—to make this all just a bit easier for her to endure. “It’s okay, Abby. Wherever they are—they’re together. They’ve got each other. You’ve just got to take comfort in that—”

“But they’re not here. What about us? How are we supposed to go on?”

She crumbled in his arms, the ache in her chest too much to hold on to. And Logan held her, knowing it was the only thing he could do. It was the only comfort she was willing to take.

It was the only thing he could offer.

He felt his heart break as she sobbed. More than anything, he wished he could do something more for her.

But eventually, she calmed down. The tears ran dry, the sobs faded.

She immediately felt foolish and turned away from Logan, certain not to make eye contact. “We should probably get this stuff to the funeral home,” Abby suggested as she wiped at her eyes. “I’m sure they’re waiting for it.”

“Yeah, you’re probably right.” She kept her back to him, unable to turn to face him. She was too embarrassed for allowing herself to be so vulnerable in front of him. The last time she had shown that part of herself to Logan Sheppard, he had turned around and walked out on her.

“I’ll just—I’ll just meet you out at the truck, okay?” She spoke suddenly. Because she couldn’t take it anymore. All around her, she was surrounded by Hayley and Blake—surrounded by their memory. Surrounded by the pain.

“Sure—I’ll just lock up and be right out. Go ahead, Abby.” He watched as she retreated, Hayley’s wedding dress folded over her arm. She didn’t look back. Logan sighed softly, wishing she would just trust him. But he knew he’d lost that—he knew that he was lucky to get so much as a glance from her. It had been his choice to walk away. It was his choice to stay away.

He thought back to their earlier conversation, when she’d discovered that he’d been living in California. Her expression—even hidden behind the sunglasses she seemed incapable of separating with—had been shocked, yes. But it had also been pained. He had wanted to tell her that not a day went by that he didn’t consider tracking her down. Logan had wanted to tell her that he’d made the trip a few times and had just sat outside her building, watching—waiting for just the briefest glimpse.

He was convinced that even after all of these years, he could still read her like an open book—so even just a glimpse would be enough. All he wanted to know was if she was happy—truly happy. He wanted to know if she was enjoying the life he’d left her to create.

But he always chickened out at the last minute. He would catch site of her hair and he would feel his heart rate quicken—and then he would turn away. It was torture, being so close—but still knowing exactly how far away he really was.

Abigail Lewis had grown up to be an amazing woman. There was no doubting that.

And he’d walked away from her.



~*~



Abby sighed as she exited the funeral home, hugging herself slightly. She still couldn’t believe that she’d broken down like that in front of Logan. What had she been thinking? If there was anyone in the world that she didn’t want to show weakness around, it was him.

It only complicated things that he was the only person she actually felt she could turn to. Who else would understand?

Certainly not her father. He was torn between loyalties.

Her fiancé? He hadn’t even liked her friends.

What other friends did she have? Nobody who would understand the gravity of what had just happened.

She heard the door open behind her and she turned, immediately regretting it. Her head spun and she reached out for the porch column to steady herself. “Whoa, you okay?”

“Just a little lightheaded,” Abby responded, shaking her head. “It’s nothing.” But of course, he wouldn’t believe her.

“When was the last time you ate something, Abby?” She paused for a moment, thinking back. She faintly remembered picking at a salad on the plane. “If you have to think that hard, it’s been too long.”

“I’ll just grab something—”

“No, you won’t, Abby. You’ll go back to your room and you’ll throw yourself into something else that needs to be taken care of and you’ll forget all about you.” He found her eyes through the tinted glass. “I want to sit across from you and make sure you get something in your stomach.”

He was right. She couldn’t believe she’d gone so long without so much as even thinking about food. With a reluctant sigh, she gave in, following him to his truck. He navigated the area like a pro and she wondered how much time he had actually spent here. It’d never really occurred to her to ask Hayley.

It was a small diner. The two received a few looks as they walked in, the small bell above the door jingling their arrival. Logan led the way, taking her to a small booth in the back. “I suggest the stew. It’s pretty phenomenal.”

“I take it you’ve been here before?”

“A few times,” he nodded, picking up a menu and browsing through it. She followed his example, looking through the various options. When the waitress came to take their order, Abby took Logan’s advice and ordered beef stew. He couldn’t help the smile that splashed across his lips as he heard her place the order. “You’ll love it. I promise.”

“I am actually feeling pretty famished.” As if on cue, her stomach grumbled loudly.

“I believe it.” He took a drink of the coffee in front of him. “I remember many a night when you would’ve been happy enough just to keep on working on whatever paper you had due unless I reminded you that, every once and awhile, you needed to take a break for food.” A wave of sadness passed through her at the memory.

“There were quite a few of those nights,” she agreed with a nod, her tone downcast. The two grew quiet for a long moment before Logan finally sighed.

“You know what, Abby?” And she looked up, startled. “I’m afraid this is something that I have to do.” He lifted himself slightly and began to lean in her direction. Abby, confused, pulled back slightly. Logan only chuckled before he reached out and lifted her sunglasses to the top of her head, as he’d done the day before in the cemetery. “That’s much better.”

She was certain it wasn’t. She could feel the puffiness of her eyes and she knew she must look a mess. She hadn’t even worn any makeup. “Better for who?” She questioned, staring at the tabletop. Her ring glittered in the sunlight and she glanced up quickly as she went to remove her hand.