Can't Let Go(9)

“Taken care of?” Abby questioned. “By who?”

“Well, of course we were waiting for your approval—”

“Who?” Abby questioned again, confused. Hayley had made clear that her family was no longer welcome in her life—Abby thought she had made that clear last night. They wanted nothing to do with her in life—why should that change in death?

“Well,” the girl looked over Abby’s shoulder and instinctively, she turned. “By Mr. Sheppard, of course.”

And as her eyes landed on the familiar shaggy haired figure, she felt her heart drop in her chest. “Hello, Abby.”

“Hello, Logan.” She whispered.





Chapter Three





It was hard to control the wave of emotion that passed through her as she stood there, staring at him. It had been at least six years since she’d seen him last. The morning he’d left her was probably one of the worst experiences of her life—and the pain had not lessened with time.

She cursed herself as she stood there, wondering exactly why she hadn’t thought of this. Surely she should have expected Logan to be there—Logan was Blake’s best friend. She knew the two had remained close. Even if she had doubted it, Hayley made certain to remind her all about Logan Sheppard every chance she had.

Abby found it difficult to breathe for a long moment. She watched as he rose to his feet and walked toward her. It was obvious he didn’t know how to greet her. “You doing okay?” His voice was so warm—so comforting, even though she knew it shouldn’t be. She wanted to be angry—she wanted to be upset.

But she couldn’t.

Her emotions were out of control, bouncing back and forth from one to the next. It only made sense that she would find the familiarity of him comforting.

Seeing him brought another wave of memories wafting through her mind—memories of happiness and laughter. Memories of her friends, memories of him. She felt her eyes well up with tears and she was grateful she still wore her sunglasses. She wasn’t prepared for this—not for any of it.

“I’ve been better,” she whispered, her voice shaky.

“I could have guessed that.” He reached out, as if to touch her, but she backed away.

If he touched her, she knew she wouldn’t be able to hold it together.

Logan looked down, his eyes trained on the floor. Her instinct—some stirring of emotion buried deep within her—told her to go to him, but she stayed still, too stunned to move. She couldn’t believe that he was here—in front of her. Here, of all places. The tiny little funeral home in this tiny little town.

“I’ve—I—” He paused, clearing his throat. “I’ve picked out some—” She could tell that he was having difficulty saying whatever it was he was trying to say. “I looked at the caskets. I picked out the ones I thought they would like best. You can—”

“I’m sure you did fine.” Her voice was still barely louder than a whisper. “You know what they would like and wouldn’t.”

“I thought you could pick out the flowers—you’re better at that than I am. We’re supposed to bring in some…clothes. And we’re supposed to choose a plot.”

“We?” She was returning to her daze. This was all just too surreal. She’d imagined running into Logan many times throughout the years they’d been separated—but never like this. Never under these circumstances. She always imagined being able to call Hayley and tell her how it went—to tell her how she felt as she met his eyes for the first time after so many years had gone by.

But she wouldn’t be able to do that now.

“I mean—if you don’t mind me being here.”

“I…” Abby was suddenly feeling very light headed. “No—no, sure. Of course. They were your friends, too.” She shook her head, feeling silly.

She was an adult now. Those fantasies were from a long time ago, when she was a silly girl with a freshly broken heart. Logan Sheppard was simply a man she used to date. Not only that, but they had both just lost people they deeply cared about. She took a deep breath, vainly attempting to steady herself. “Did they ever say anything about what they wanted or—?”

He shook his head and shrugged his shoulders and she realized that he was just as lost and shaken as she. She fought the tears that had formed in her eyes and swallowed hard at the ball in her throat again. “No—not really.”

“I figure—so long as they’re together…” The ball was almost impossible to ignore now, the tears threatening to spill over. Hold it together, Abby.

“That’s what I thought, too.” He agreed and she nodded, taking a deep breath, again trying to steady herself. “Should we have a viewing?”

“I…” She shrugged her shoulders. “I really don’t know.”

“Allison suggested at least one day of viewing. She said that Blake and Hayley had a lot of friends—plus it gives people coming in from out of town time to arrive for the funeral…”

Abby nodded. “Sure—that sounds fine.” Memories from her mother’s funeral flashed across her eyes. She remembered being too afraid to even go up to the casket—too afraid to look. “Do you think—I mean, maybe Friday? And the funeral Saturday?”

Logan nodded now. “That’s what Allison suggested.”

“Then that’s settled.” She took a deep breath.

“We should have a wake.” And Abby looked up, unexpectedly meeting his eyes. Even through the heavily tinted glass, she could see the intense gray of them. Once upon a time, she’d been able to stare into their depths and know exactly what he was feeling—but now she was so startled by their intensity that she was nearly knocked off balance.

She felt her heart flutter—a sensation she’d nearly forgotten about.

“You know Hayley would hate to have everyone just standing around crying. She’d want people to remember the good times.”

He was right. Hayley would cringe at the idea of people mourning her. “That’s a good idea,” Abby told him, breaking the gaze, suddenly feeling overwhelmed. “Hayl…she hated people fussing over her.” Her throat restricted further and the room once again swayed.

“Okay—I’ll go let Allison know what we’ve decided.” She reached out to steady herself, but there was nothing there. “You okay, Abby?”

“I just—I need some air,” She shook her head. “I’m going to step outside—”

“You sure?” She nodded then, desperate for some distance. She needed to get away from him—from all of this. She was losing control.

“Yeah—yeah, just meet me back outside—” And with that, she turned away from him, making her way back toward the door she had entered through. The cool air hit her like a ton of bricks and she braced herself against the railing of the porch, breathing in deep breaths, willing the pain to go away. It’s okay, Abby. It’s going to be okay. She insisted to herself.

There was no other option—things had to be okay.

She heard the door open behind her and she knew he was there, even without looking. She’d always had a bit of a sixth sense when it came to Logan Sheppard. “I told her we would go look at plots today. She gave me a map to let me know what was available.” Abby nodded, still unable to speak. The ball in her throat was too much to bear. “Are you sure you’re okay, Abby?”

“Yeah—yeah, I’m fine,” she breathed, aware that her voice was strained. “It’s just been a long night. I need to go get a room and try to sleep.” Logan nodded. “I need to start making phone calls too, though. It’s such short notice—”

“I can do that—”

“No, Logan. You’ve done plenty.” She looked up, her eyes roaming over him. He hadn’t really changed all that much—his hair was still just as untamed as it had been before. There was a bit of scruff on his face—she couldn’t tell if was intentional, or if he too had simply had a long night. Abby was careful to avoid his eyes, though—careful not to lose herself as she’d already done once.

But he looked tired. She could tell, even with just a simple glance. “You should get some rest too.”

“I probably should.” But she could tell he wasn’t going to. “You staying at the Moonlight?” he asked. It was the only motel in the area, so she really didn’t have much of a choice. Abby nodded. “I guess I’ll just follow you up there then, if you don’t mind.”

“Well, we’re both going to the same place, I’m assuming. It’d be kind of hard for one of us not to follow the other.” His grin was quick—there one minute and gone the next. But it was enough to remind her of the sensation she used to feel whenever he donned that simple little grin at her.