Page 96 of Everything We Left Unsaid

Abby

It’s been dayssince I left Jacob. I’ve only talked to him a few times, diverting most of his calls to my voicemail. I told him I need time and space. Though he tries to give it to me, at the same time, he wants to be involved in Chloe’s life and I’ll never deny him that. Regardless of what’s happening between us and the situation with his mother, he’s still Chloe’s father and has a right to know what’s going on with her.

Now that I’ve had time to cool down and think, I realize I can’t hold what Jacob’s mother did against him, and that’s exactly what I’ve been doing. Not consciously, but in a way, I’m associating him with her betrayal. I blame him for not realizing or noticing something, anything that would have clued him in on what she’d done. All the signs were there and he missed them. None of it added up, yet he was too blind to see the monster living under his roof.

But aren’t we all like that? We fail to see the worst in the people we love. I’ve been through that with my own mother more times than I can count. I forgave her time and time again for the heartless things she did, for loving the high more than she loved Ethan and me. Jacob’s not at fault here, and I need to stop blaming him. I should call him while Chloe’s asleep and my grandmother’s out. I honestly don’t know where we go from here or how we’ll make this work, but I have to try. I love him like I’ve never loved anyone before, and I know I’ll never find what we have again with someone else.

I look at the bills spread out on the table and decide to take a much-needed break. Standing, I pull my phone from my back pocket, but there’s a knock at the door before I can unlock the screen. My heart skips a beat, not only from being startled, but also from anticipation. Could it be that Jacob’s grown tired of my brush off and has come to win me over like pappy did my grandmother? Hope blooms in my chest and I rush to the door, throwing it wide open.

The air is knocked out of me, sucked violently from my lungs, when I take in the person waiting on the other side. My smile withers away with the sight of Jacob’s mother standing on my front porch, a pair of black sunglasses shielding her eyes and a long, black peacoat wrapped snuggly around her slender frame to ward off the chill in the air. Her driver – and bodyguard, I suspect –stands watch, his hands clasped in front of him as he stands rigidly next to a shiny black SUV. Between her wardrobe and choice of vehicle, she appears to be in mourning, as though she’s just come from a funeral.

“Abby,” she greets, and I stop her before she can get another word out.

“What the hell are you doing here?” She winces and I contemplate slamming the door in her face. She’s got a lot of nerve showing up at my house.

“I…I…” she stutters, flustered by my terse greeting. “I was hoping we could talk. May I come in?”

“Talk?” I ask incredulously. “You’re the last person I want to talk to.”

“Please,” she asks, and I notice a single tear slip down her cheek, revealing itself from behind her designer shades. I can’t see her eyes, but that tiny drop of saltwater gives her away. “I need to make this right. I need to explain myself.”

“Nothing you say could possibly make this right. No explanation can justify what you did.” My jaw is clenched so tight, I’m surprised I can get any words out past my teeth.

“I know, but I have to try. I have to do something. I’m losing my son.” When her voice cracks, so does my resolve. She’s pitiful, a broken woman lying in the bed she made. “He’s lost without you. His heart is broken. I did that. I caused all of this,” she confesses, spreading her arms out and gesturing around us. “Please, just give me ten minutes of your time,” she begs.

I begrudgingly step aside and motion for her to enter. Her security guy tries to follow her inside, but she holds a hand up to stop him. “We’ll be fine,” she assures him, and he nods. Either she’s not afraid of me acting on my impulses and showing her how us country girls deal with betrayal as deep as hers, or they have instructions to storm this place and avenge her should any harm befall her.

I sit in my grandmother’s chair and motion for her to have a seat on the couch. “You have ten minutes. I suggest you use them wisely.”

She nods and swallows thickly before removing her coat and glasses. Lowering herself onto the couch gracefully, she crosses her ankles much like the first time we met. When her gaze lands on mine, I flinch and fight back a gasp. Her eyes give her away. They’re haunted, bloodshot, and brimming with tears. Her face is gaunt as though she hasn’t eaten in days, and she’s lost weight from an already slender frame. The area beneath her eyes is purple and discolored by the stain of sleepless nights. She doesn’t look like the woman I met just last week. She’s aged. This woman has been ravaged by heartbreak and regret.

“First, I want you to know how truly sorry I am for what I did. I know it’s of little consolation to you, but I’ve never regretted anything more in my life.” Her chin quivers as more moisture leaks from her eyes. “At the time, I thought I was doing what was best for Jacob’s future. There have been several young men in our circle who’ve been trapped by girls who got pregnant on purpose.” My fists clench so tight, my nails bite into my palms. “I see it time and time again. They either demand money or a ring, sometimes both, and I was afraid that’s what would happen to him.”

I sit still as a statue, trying my best to give her the full ten minutes I promised, but my hands itch to slap her. The insinuation that I’m just a gold-digger stings, even coming from someone for whom I’ve lost all respect. And the fact that my daughter’s life meant less than her son’s reputation makes my stomach churn with revulsion and rage.

“I didn’t know you, so all I had to go on was other people’s misfortune.”

“None of this explains why you had Jacob’s phone and impersonated him in the first place. You didn’t know I was pregnant yet, so why bother?”

“I knew he had met someone. I could tell by the way he was acting, how he’d rush out of the room when he took a call. I’d been through some of his text messages when he’d leave his phone behind and saw the exchanges between the two of you.” She cringes at her admission and shame fills her eyes. “At first, I wanted to see what you would say to him. I was trying to gauge how serious you two had become and just gather information. I wanted to see if you were a suitable woman to be seeing my son.”

I grit my teeth together, fighting back my fury. How can she think she has any right to judge me like that?

“When you sent that message informing him of the pregnancy, I panicked. I had my assistant look into you and try to find out what he could. When I learned of your...” her voice trails off, searching for the right way to express herself, “…socioeconomic status, I assumed you were only after his money. So I convinced my assistant to write that letter, knowing my feminine handwriting would never pass as Jacob’s.”

I stand from my chair, my body vibrating with rage. “Are you fucking kidding me? I never gave a shit about his money!”

Her sad eyes meet mine and she has the decency to look ashamed. “I didn’t know you then,” she repeats. “I didn’t realize you’d keep the baby and never ask for another thing from him.” Her words come out in a rush. “I had nothing to go on but a few text messages and what little information my assistant was able to gather. I didn’t realize you were this intelligent, hardworking young woman who never let any obstacle get in the way of doing what you wanted. I didn’t know you’d become this incredibly patient and loving mother to the grandchild I’d cursed for merely existing. I didn’t know I could love another little girl like I love my Peyton.”

Tears stream down her face as she continues, and I feel my own start to burn in my eyes.

“But I do. The moment I saw Chloe, I knew she’d steal my heart. I knew I’d never be the same again. But I fought it. I fought it hard. I tried like hell to close myself off and not allow myself to feel the unconditional love and adoration that can only be felt for a child. And I wanted you out of the picture. You didn’t fit into my perfect plan for Jacob. I thought that if I could make you believe you weren’t good enough for him, that he was meant for someone else, then you’d simply co-parent Chloe and he’d pursue a relationship with someone like Maggie.” She cringes and swallows thickly before continuing. “I called Diane and told her what happened, and we came up with a plan.” She winces and I brace myself against her next confession.

“We’ve always wanted to see Jacob and Maggie married. I knew what she was going to say to you at the party. We orchestrated the whole thing. We wanted to plant that seed of doubt in your mind about your future with him,” she confesses, and I fight back the urge to lunge at her. “And when you snuck away, it made me sick to think our plan had worked. I almost went after you, but I stopped myself. I was so torn. I thought I knew what was best, that what I wanted for my son was the right path, but I was slowly realizing how wrong I’d been.”

Evelyn and Diane played me like a fiddle and I fell right into their trap. I thought my addict mother was manipulative, but she has nothing on this evil, cold, calculating woman.

She continues before I have a chance to respond. Or throw her out of my house. “I knew I would have to confess, because there was no way I could keep the lie going. Jacob would find out sooner or later, and I knew if I didn’t fess up and he found out on his own, I’d never see Chloe again. Telling him the truth was the only chance I had to be in Chloe’s life, and I had to take it.” Her voice shakes and her chin quivers, giving me a glance at her humanity. “But now I’ve lost my son and have no chance of being in either of their lives.”

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