Abe could feel himself trembling within. “Sarah, sweetheart, why didn’t you ever tell me any of this?” She’d said her parents were dead and that she’d been on her own for a while, never once mentioning that she’d been on her own from the time she was fifteen. “Why, baby?”
Sarah pulled away, her movements jerky as she walked to the sink and began to rinse the dishes, put them into the dishwasher. Abe resisted the temptation to demand more from her, resisted the temptation to be the raging bull he so often was. Instead, he helped clear away the detritus of their meal, then grabbed the magnetic notepad she had on her fridge.
It was one of those novelty items with Shopping List in fancy font on the top. Below, Sarah had jotted down a few items in her distinctive handwriting with its wide loops and generous curves. “Milk,” Abe said, noting it down. “Eggs. Ham, since I ate all of it. Bacon too.” Please, Sarah, talk to me. I won’t let you down this time. “Doughnuts. Cake. Chocolate-covered pretzels.”
“Abe.” Sarah finally spoke, shooting him a scowl at the same time. “Just put vegetables. I’ll pick from whatever they have at the Farmers Market.”
Wanting to hold her again, he forced himself to stay in place. “What else?”
“I’m nearly out of flour.” Dishes all stacked in the dishwasher, Sarah started to open and shut cupboards, calling out items for him to add to the list as she went. “I just wanted to fit in,” she said in the middle of checking the cupboard in which she kept her canned goods. “You had such a lovely mother, a great extended family, incredibly strong roots and the kind of friendships that are forever. I didn’t want you to think I was a throwaway person.”
Abe crushed the grocery list, his fist clenching without his conscious volition. “You were never that.”
“I made myself that,” Sarah insisted. “I was twenty-one when I met you, and yet I’d made no real friends, not even with the charity workers who helped me take the GED.” Her hand tightened on the edge of the cupboard door. “The loneliness was horrible, but I guess I’d been burned so badly that I thought it was safer to keep my distance from people in general.” She looked at him after an eternity. “Until you.”
And he’d kicked her so goddamn hard in the heart that he’d thrust her into the arms of a manipulative fuckhole who turned out to be an abuser. Right goddamn back into the nightmare she’d tried to escape. “I was only ever interested in your background because it was yours. It didn’t matter where you came from or who your parents were.”
“You don’t understand.” Sarah shook her head, her curls wild. “You’ve always had this solid foundation behind you. Always had the Bellamy name, always had people you could rely on. It’s different when you come from nothing and have no one.”
“You have me.” Abe moved to cup her face. “Whatever happens, however this ends, you have me. Always.” Never again would Sarah feel alone and abandoned. “You hear me, Sarah? I’m here for you and our baby. Today, tomorrow, always.”
ABE’S PASSIONATE WORDS CONTINUED TO RING IN SARAH’S SKULL as she walked with him through the permanent pathways of the Farmer’s Market at 3rd and Fairfax, his hand clasped firmly around hers. It made her afraid that he knew so much about her, had glimpsed the scars that marked her… but then hiding her needs hadn’t saved them the last time around. If Abe had known that loneliness was her terror, if he’d understood how her childhood had marked her, would he have left her behind all those times?
“These oranges look good.” Abe bagged up a bunch. “Vitamin C is good for you.”
“I’m starting to think you’re going to be a pain in the butt the entire pregnancy.” Sarah mock-scowled, even as bubbles of delight popped through the heavy darkness of this morning’s conversation and the attendant memories.
Abe touched his hand to her lower back after paying for the oranges and taking the bag, then nodded ahead. “Those look like avocados. I heard something about healthy fats.”
Shoulders shaking, Sarah walked over to the stall and bought several avocados that weren’t too ripe. No one bothered them the entire time they were at the market, and they left it loaded down with fresh goods as well as a huge caramel-covered apple that was Sarah’s delicious nemesis.
“I have one every six months,” she told Abe as she ate a slice after they got into his SUV. “Otherwise, I’d be here every week, stuffing my face.”
“Well, I guess it was once fruit,” he said dubiously.