Can't Let Go(32)

She had spent the last three days fluttering through the possibilities. At one point, she’d even been desperate enough to call her father—but he’d been out of town for the day, and when he’d returned, she had decided to keep it to herself for just a little longer.

Abby had no idea what to do.

If she admitted the truth—if she confessed to Eric her momentary lapse of fidelity, he would probably forgive her—if only to save face. The two could continue on with their marriage—their life.

She wasn’t so sure, though, that Eric would be willing to raise her child.

She wasn’t so sure she wanted him to.

But her options were limited—she’d run out of time. She couldn’t call the wedding off now—not after so much time and planning had gone into it, knowing that everyone would soon be gathering.

That was something that Hayley had been good at. Handling the crowd, making decisions. Not Abby, though. She was a people-pleaser. She always had been.

“Abigail?” Eric knocked on the door. “Jenny is here—they’re ready to take you to the church.”

“I’ll be right out,” she replied, staring into the mirror for just a moment longer before turning and slipping into the jeans and t-shirt she was wearing to the church.

“Do you have everything?”

“Most of it should already be at the church.” She told him, the tension in the room almost tangible. She hesitated for a long moment, contemplating confessing everything to him.

It would be so much easier if he would make the decision for her.

But instead, she stood there in silence, looking at the floor.

“Well, then. I guess I’ll see you in a few hours.” Eric told her as she passed by him. She noticed that he could hardly look at her, and not for the first time, she wondered if he already knew. He wasn’t stupid, by any means. It was his job to read people, and she was sure that she had been an open book the last few months.

“I’ll see you in a few hours.” She repeated, unable to really look at him.

Just as she reached the door, Abby stopped, looking back over her shoulder.

“Eric?”

“Yes, Abigail?”

“You’re sure you want to do this, right?”

“I’ve been sure since our third date. We make sense together. I know I’m not—what I mean to say is, I know that what we have isn’t a fairytale. But it could still have a happy ending.”

She noticed that love wasn’t even part of his argument. And shouldn’t it have been? Shouldn’t he have told her how much he loved her—how perfect they were for each other?

“I was just curious,” she finally replied, nodding her head.

“Better get going—don’t want to be late.” He urged, and Abby decided to say nothing more.

This is a mistake. She told herself, but she couldn’t stop it.

She let her feet carry her from the apartment and into the waiting limo. She let Jenny ramble on about her morning—about everything Abby was to expect for the rest of the day. The photographer was already at the church, ready to capture the bride going through the pre-wedding process. The stylists were there working on the bridesmaids, and everything would be wrapped up in time for Abby’s arrival.

She hardly noticed.

The morning flew by, Abby in a fog the entire time. She knew that her time was running out—but she had no idea what to do. She was at a loss.

A knock sounded at the door and Jenny hurried over to answer it, giving Abby a moment to appraise her own appearance.

She looked beautiful—though not much like herself, she had to admit. Her hair was carefully wrapped in some fancy up-do, her makeup professionally done. She almost felt like a porcelain doll—perfect on the outside, but empty within.

“Um…Abby?” Jenny spoke, pulling Abby from her thoughts. “There’s someone here to see you—”

“Who?” The only person who would want to see her before the wedding would be her father.

“It’s—” Jenny looked around at the other women in the room before she leaned in closer. “Logan, Abby. It’s Logan.”

The room swayed. Abby had to grab hold of Jenny in order to keep from falling.

“Tell him to go away, Jenny. Please.”

“I already tried that. He said he just wants to talk to you—he only needs two minutes.” Abby felt her throat closing up, the tears already threatening to appear.

“I can’t—”

“I can tell him again.” Abby nodded, watching Jenny hurry back to the door. What was he doing here? How had he known where to find her?

“I’m not leaving, Abby—not until I talk to you. I’ll say what I have to say from out here, if you make me.” He was raising his voice then, making certain that she heard him. She looked around the room, suddenly very aware of all eyes on her.

“Let him in.” She finally gave in, knowing he was telling the truth. He would only stand out there and continue to make a scene.

He wasn’t dressed for the wedding. He wore jeans and a t-shirt, his hair more disheveled than ever. His gray eyes swept over her, taking it all in. “Ladies?” Abby questioned. “Could you give us a minute?”

“Not a problem, Abby. Take as long as you need.” It was Jenny, ushering the rest of the women out. Abby was aware that the photographer had taken a few shots of the encounter and in the back of her mind, she noted that she would definitely have to ask for a discount.

“You look…”

“Beautiful, I know.” She’d heard it a million times.

“No, I was going to say like a princess.” He shook his head. “That’s not how you envisioned your wedding.”

“There’s a lot I didn’t envision about this day—but it’s all happening.” Why was she so angry with him? There was a flood of resentment in the pit of her chest spilling out and spreading through her. “What are you doing here, Logan?”

“I’m trying to keep you from making a mistake.” Mistake. There was that word again. “You know you don’t want this, Abby.”

“And you think this is the most opportune moment to be telling me this?” She was actually livid. What right did he have to be here? What did he think he was doing? “It’s been months, Logan—months.”

“Hey—you left me this time, Abby.” His tone was tense—strained.

“You knew where to find me.”

“I didn’t think you wanted to be found.”

“So why didn’t that stop you today?” She didn’t need this—not today. Not with everything else that was going on today.

“Because—I knew if I didn’t come today, you’d go through with it.”

“So you think that, because you’re here, I’m going to just up and call off the wedding? Cause a scene, break some hearts, ruin some futures?” That’s exactly what he was asking her to do.

“No—and I’m not asking you to do anything like that, Abigail.” He shook his head, stepping closer to her. “All I want you to do is—for just once in your life—think about yourself. Put yourself first.”

The room swayed again—a church bell sounded in the distance. Time was almost up.

“You have to leave, Logan. You can’t be here.”

“Abby, please.” He was begging her now. She could hear the pain in his voice. He loved her so much.

But she couldn’t do this—not for him.

She longed to do what he asked. She was dying to tell him about the life they had created—to throw her arms around his neck and let him carry her away.

But she couldn’t.

“I have to make my own decisions—and I want you to leave.” It hurt her to say the words. She watched his eyes change—saw the pain etch itself inside them. “Just go.”

“If this is what you want, Abby—if this is what will make you happy—”

“Get out!” She actually screamed then, the urge to throw herself into his arms almost undeniable. But she couldn’t do it.

“I love you, Abigail Lewis. I’ll never stop, no matter how much it hurts.” He held her eyes for several long moments, pleading with her the entire time. Her body actually began to shake as she stared, dying to go to him.

And then he was gone.

She felt the tears coming on and she willed them away. Abby struggled to maintain her breathing. She fought to keep her feet planted on the floor so that she didn’t run after him, telling him that she did love him—that she did want him. That he had given her something she thought she would never have.

Several moments passed before Abby could tear her eyes away from the spot Logan had just vacated. A few renegade tears had escaped, leaving a hot trail down her cheek. It took everything she could muster not to break down into sobs.