Worth the Fall (The McKinney Brothers, #1)(69)

“You know what, Abby? Maybe that’s why you’re always alone. Because you can’t ask anyone for anything. Because you push so f*cking hard. Did you ever think of that?”

“Yes.” She choked out the word and ended the call.

Yes. I’ve thought of it. I just don’t know how to fix it.





Chapter 28


“Abby? Abby!” Matt slammed the hand holding his phone against the brick wall. “Fuck!” Slammed it again. And again, then scrubbed his hands over his face, stabbed his fingers into his hair and pulled. What the hell had just happened?

He was on the verge of choosing her over everything. Over his job, his teammates, his promise. And she didn’t even care if he walked away? Was it so easy for her to let him go?

Matt sucked in the cool night air and stared up at the sky, picturing her face.

It would have to be, wouldn’t it?

In an instant his anger cooled. That’s what she thought. She’s been left so many times she accepted it. Expected it. He saw it in her eyes every time he left.

He was the one who’d pushed. He was the one who’d told her not to be afraid, and he was the one *footing around a decision that affected her life. What the hell have I done? She’d been alone all her life because no one had stepped up and loved her the way she deserved to be loved, and he’d thrown it back on her.

He’d known she was scared, known it from the beginning and pushed her anyway. He’d wanted her and he’d gone after her, so sure she’d be better off with him than without. Intent on making her want him as much as he wanted her. He took a deep breath and put his forehead against the brick wall. Like Abby’s wall. He’d been determined to go over it. Not caring that she felt safer hiding behind it.

He rested his head against the brick, glancing down. Pieces of his shattered cell phone lay scattered at his feet. Calling her with that was out of the question.

—

“More, peeze,” Charlie said from the table. He’d already eaten his weight in pancakes this morning.

“Okay, one more.” She kissed his syrupy cheek.

Abby’s eyes blurred with fatigue, not tears. Because she hadn’t cried. But that didn’t change her routine. She still got up, still made breakfast and lunches. Put on a smile. Pretended to be happy.

She braided Annie’s hair, making sure it was extra neat the way she liked it. The uniforms were freshly ironed. The lunches made extra special. That’d been her secret to holding herself together: keeping it together. And not caring. She had rules about that. She’d just forgotten them for a while.

It was Charlie’s day to go to school and there was a lot she could do. Jack needed new cleats, and Gracie’s tights had a snag. She could always use more casseroles in the freezer. With the new baby, she’d need easy dinners. Good. That was her plan, her task for the day. But Matt’s words slipped in.

God forbid you admit you need me?

He’d almost sounded hurt. But that was after he’d said it wasn’t working, wasn’t it? The conversation continued to repeat in her head like a broken record, as it had all night.

With her guard down, the L word swirling around in her mind and heart, sitting on the tip of her tongue. She’d reached out to him with the phone call—not a natural instinct for her. Better to keep to yourself. Safer to be an island. It’s who she was, what she knew. She took a breath and lifted her chin. Just a few months ago it had been enough, and it would be again.

An hour later she sat in her car, cradling her Starbucks. She’d dropped the kids off at school and gone for a pre-errand-running boost. Her doctor had said limit caffeine, not cut it.

Angie had made her promise not to push Matt away, and then he’d pushed first. She’d worked hard her whole life not to let that happen again. Yesterday she’d thought Matt was worth the risk. She’d been so sure he loved her. So sure that she’d wanted to tell him she loved him too.

And that would be okay with you?

Of course not. Of course it wasn’t okay with her. And that’s why she pushed. As a child it had been the only means of defense she had, but—did he really think she didn’t care?

She stared at the phone in her hand for several seconds. She could call him and say…what? That she was hurting? That it wasn’t okay? But it wasn’t working for him. He’d been clear enough. She dropped the cell into her cup holder.

Forcing her mind on a grocery list, she pulled into traffic. Cheese sticks, peanut butter, bread. She approached an intersection and slowed at the light. Merchants in the adjacent strip mall were wasting no time, already decorating for Christmas. She’d probably find holiday music too. She flicked a glance in the rearview mirror as she reached to turn on the radio, then a quick look again. A small silver car was coming up behind her. Too fast. Way too fast to stop. He was going to hit—

The sound of impact reverberated through her body. A split-second flash of the dashboard. Her head hit the steering wheel and then…nothing.

—

“How far along are you?”

Abby felt the words shouted at her, then her body being moved from one gurney to another.

The next time she opened her eyes, she squinted against the bright lights overhead. She lifted a hand to her head, but someone stopped her. It felt wet. She wanted to wipe it.