Rock Wedding(77)

His mother smiled at his confession. “You never answered me that day,” she said after eating a little cake. “All I got from you was that you had no time to chat, that you had to be waiting at the groom’s spot or Sarah might change her mind.”

A pause, Diane Bellamy’s eyes looking into the past rather than at Abe. “Yet all the time before that, you’d been so cavalier about your wedding, about Sarah. Until I thought she was an opportunistic groupie taking advantage of the grief that held you prisoner.”

His mother’s voice softened as it always did when she spoke of Tessie, but the echo of her own grief was overlaid with endless love. “I was so sure… and then I saw her walk into the hotel ballroom.” Diane Bellamy shook her head. “She didn’t look around at the expensive decor or check out the famous guests. She looked only for you, and the smile that lit up her face when she saw you waiting for her, I’ll never forget it.”

His mom sniffed again, her voice breaking a little as she said, “And I knew that girl loved my boy. So much.”

Abe thought of the pearl necklace Sarah still cherished; he’d seen how carefully she stored it in its box, how she always kept it separate from her other jewelry. His mother hadn’t given her the gift before the wedding but after—when she’d taken it off her own neck to put it around Sarah’s.

Abe had never realized the significance of that until this instant, and it gave him hope his mother would accept what he was about to tell her. “I’m seeing Sarah again,” he said, knowing there really was no way to build up to it.

Putting down her teacup with a rattle, his mom stared at him before taking a deep breath. “I can’t say I’m surprised. What you and Sarah had, it was special.” A frown, her next words not what he would’ve expected. “You hurt that girl, Abe. I love you, will always love you, but I saw her light dim day by day in the time she was with you.”

Abe flinched. “I’m not that guy anymore.” A self-protective asshole pushing away the best thing in his life out of fear that she’d die on him too, leave him in the most final way. “She’s pregnant. The baby’s mine. Ours.”

Diane Bellamy had reached for her teacup again, was just picking it up when he spoke. The cup dropped to the gritty stone below their feet with a crash, shattered. Ignoring it, his mother asked, “How far?”

“Not far. But Sarah keeps doing that thing with her hand”—he demonstrated the protective action that caught him in the heart each and every fucking time—“so some paparazzo’s going to catch it soon. I wanted you to know before that.” And he’d wanted to tell her before he picked up Sarah for dinner, so that if her reaction was negative, he could shield Sarah from it.

Drawing herself up, his mother frowned at him. “I want to see her.” It was a demand. “She never came to me after you two blew up because I kept my distance in an effort to give you both your privacy. I didn’t want to be an interfering mother-in-law.”

Grabbing his mostly untouched tea, she drank it down, then put the teacup back in its saucer. “This time around,” she said, her tone brooking no argument, “I want her to know she can count on me. Even if it’s my son she’s angry at.”

Getting up, Abe lifted his mom off her feet, squeezed her into a bear hug.

“Abraham,” she said. “Put me down at once!”

Abe held her for a minute longer. “Thank you,” he said afterward, his voice hoarse. “Sarah needs a mom on her side.” And his mom was the best advocate anyone could ever have.





CHAPTER 28



SARAH WAS STILL SITTING around in sweatpants and a T-shirt even though Abe was supposed to pick her up in less than an hour. She’d woken early to take care of work matters so she’d have plenty of time to prepare, yet here she was. At least she’d showered and brushed her hair. She hadn’t done anything else however, and now she was rapidly running out of time to dry and straighten it. But her guts were twisted into a panic.

Abe’s mom was going to hate her for coming back into his life.

She swallowed, put a trembling hand to her forehead, dropped it a second later. “You can deal with this, Sarah.”

Only she wasn’t sure she could: it wasn’t just about Abe and their baby, it was about how much Sarah respected Diane Bellamy. To be rejected by her…

Buzz.

Sarah jerked at the sound of the gate buzzer and, jumping to her feet, ran to the window that overlooked the front of the house. Abe’s black SUV stood at the gate. Groaning, she found her keys and used the remote to open the gate for him before padding downstairs and opening the door to step out onto the stoop. Flossie zipped out in joyous, tail-wagging welcome.