Worth the Fall(94)
“What?” Walk away? Why would she ever want that?
“All I ever wanted was for him to be happy, but, selfishly, I also wanted him close. You might think it’s silly—”
“No.” Abby shook her head. “I don’t.”
Marge reached out and touched her face, a mother’s touch.
“You’re so lovely. I see that now. I’m sorry, Abby. Can you forgive—”
“Abby?” Matt called from the kitchen, where he was waiting. “You okay?”
Abby threw her arms around the woman. “I love you,” she whispered. And she did. For giving her Matt. For wanting her in their family. “There’s nothing to forgive.”
Chapter 34
Laying a hand on her contracting stomach, Abby pushed up from the bed slowly so she wouldn’t wake Charlie. Well, that was not the only reason she was moving slowly. She’d lain down with him as a ploy to get him to nap. Though she could’ve easily fallen asleep and probably slept until the next morning. But she forced herself to move. She wanted to help Marge get things into the oven. The family was coming over for leftovers and another round of games.
She slowed her steps to study more pictures lining the hallway. Family portraits chronicled the addition of each new family member. Her attention was drawn by Matt’s voice coming from the open door of Mr. McKinney’s office, and she froze on the edge of the dining room.
“No, sir.”
There was a pause while the person on the other end of the phone spoke and Matt made a sound of agreement.
It was his tone that made her hesitate, his words that stopped her cold.
“I appreciate your faith in me, sir, and of course I’ll miss it.”
A tremor ran through her body.
“I don’t think— Yes. I understand, sir. I’ll think about it.”
Every muscle in her body seized and she stood frozen to the spot as Matt appeared in the doorway. “Who was that?”
He pressed a quick kiss to her lips and smiled. “You ready to kick some ass, partner?”
“Who was it?” she repeated, trying to stop her body’s shaking.
His face turned serious. “Captain Perry.”
She tried to swallow. Calm down. Don’t jump to conclusions. “What did he want? Was it about another mission?”
“He asked me if I would reconsider my decision until the spring, when they’ll have some new guys ready. I told him no.”
Her shaking hand reached out blindly for a chair. “You told him you’d think about it.”
“Abby—”
“You’re thinking about it. You want—”
He reached for her hand. “I want you. Look, we can talk about—”
“No.” Blood pounded in her ears as she shook her head back and forth, making herself dizzy. “No, we can’t.”
He was going to leave. She couldn’t breathe. Her heart raced and she couldn’t slow it down. Why was he so calm while she was a volcano of emotion rising toward a violent eruption? His face held nothing more than mild confusion.
In a blink she was that little girl again, trembling under the hot sun, hands and knees scraped raw and bleeding where she’d fallen. Screaming in the middle of the road while the last people she’d trusted not to leave her, not to change their minds, drove away with their dog. No. She wouldn’t talk about it. She’d get down on her knees. Even though she’d sworn to never again beg anyone to stay with her, she would do it. She’d beg.
“Abby, look at me.”
She closed her eyes tightly against it, feeling strangely outside her body, all the fears she’d thought were gone overwhelming her. Choking her, squeezing to the point she struggled for breath, desperate to get away from it.
Warm, rough hands gripped her face. “Honey, stop it.” Matt tightened his hold, giving her a little shake. “Look at me, damn it.”
She opened her eyes and saw the man she loved more than she’d ever loved before. This couldn’t happen. She couldn’t let it. Do something.
“Abby, baby.” He smoothed a hand lightly over her hair, voice soft, eyes full of concern, but they did nothing to slow her quick, shallow breaths.
A car door slammed outside.
She’d never wanted promises. They were always broken. But right now…that’s all she wanted. “Promise me.”
The front door opened and voices drifted in.
“Promise me you’re not changing your mind.”
“Abby—”
“Please.” She sucked in a breath, forcing herself to get out the words, as if what he said or didn’t say in this second would determine if she lived or died. “Please. I never wanted to…but…I am. I’m begging you—”