Page 93 of Everything We Left Unsaid

Abby

I lay Chloe in her crib and she snuggles up with her blanket, closing her eyes with a soft sigh. It’s always such a relief when she goes down easily. Some nights it’s a fight to get her to bed.

“Hey, Dad wants to see me downstairs. Be back in a few,” Jacob announces from my room.

Something in his voice sounds off and unease settles around me like a fog, thick and heavy and hard to navigate.

I step away from the crib slowly, trying not to make a peep, hoping these floors don’t creak like the ones in my house. They always sabotage me when I try to sneak away from a sleeping Chloe. More than once they’ve woken her up and I’ve considered taking an axe to them.

When I slip back into my room, Jacob is already gone. Damn, that was fast. He must have bolted as soon as the words were out of his mouth. I try to busy myself, waiting for him to return, but I can’t shake the feeling that something is wrong. Maybe I should go check on him. Maybe I’ll just catch him in a dark corner and show my appreciation for all the sexy new underwear he bought me. I peeked inside the bag while he was bathing Chloe, suspicious about the disproportionately large shopping bag. I’d only picked out two bra and panty sets, but there were at least five or six extra items in there I didn’t recognize.

I check on Chloe one more time, and after confirming she’s fast asleep, I pad down the hall and descend the stairs, calling Jacob’s name when I hit the bottom. He doesn’t respond, so I head toward the kitchen. Other than my room, that seems to be where he spends most of his time.

A loud crash and angry shouts stop me in my tracks. I tiptoe closer to the closed door, eavesdropping on a conversation to which I know I shouldn’t be listening. I should turn away now, do the right thing and let them have their privacy. The last time I overheard one of their conversations, it was about Chloe and didn’t go over well.

My stomach drops at the sound of Jacob’s raised voice. “How could you?” he yells in a tone I’ve never heard him use. His father scolds him, his voice no less intimidating, but he continues.

My stomach lurches and I press my hand over my mouth to keep from throwing up at what I hear next.

“No! It’s nowhere near enough. She ruined everything. She ruined my fucking life for the past two years! She stole my child from me, and the woman I love, and for what? So I wouldn’t have the smear of a bastard child on my reputation?”

What is he talking about?I almost open the door, needing to know what this means. If it has to do with me and Chloe, I have a right to know.

My hand pauses on the doorknob at the sound of Evelyn’s voice. “Jacob, I’m sorry. I know now that what I did was wrong. I’ve regretted it every moment since I first saw that sweet little girl in your arms.”

I suck in a breath as the realization of what she’s confessing finally sinks in. No, it can’t be...

“Don’t,” Jacob grits out in stern warning. “You don’t get to talk about her like that. You don’t deserve to be her grandmother or even be in her life. You tried to trick Abby into aborting her, for Christ’s sake! You made her believe that’s what I wanted. You’re a monster!”

My heart cracks open, his accusation verifying my suspicions. It was his mother. This whole time, it wasn’t some disgruntled ex-employee or a psychopath with a God complex messing with our lives. It was the woman who gave birth to him. How could she do such a thing?

I scramble away from the door like I’ve been burned, needing to put as much distance between me and the Daniels family as possible. Stumbling toward the stairs, I drag myself back to my room.

I gotta get out of here. Tonight!

I toss my belongings that are readily visible into my duffle bag, throw it over my shoulder, and step into my shoes. I don’t even care about the rest of my things; I just need to leave. Ensuring I have my keys and phone, I go into the nursery and gently lift Chloe from the crib. My entire body shakes with panic and rage, but I somehow manage not to wake my sleeping child. Cradling her against my chest I slip quietly out of my room and down the stairs, praying I don’t run into anyone, especially Jacob. There’s no way he would let me leave willingly, but I have to go. I won’t stay here a minute longer with that woman in this house.

Mercifully, I make it outside undetected and strap Chloe into her car seat without waking her. My car roars to life when I turn the key and I wince, hoping nobody inside heard. I ease the car into drive and sneak away from the house like a criminal. The guard at the gate questions me for being out so late, and I try to think of a lie to tell him to avoid the unseemly truth.

“I have to head home early,” I say in a somber tone I feel all the way down to my bones. “My grandmother has been ill and needs me to come back tonight.”

“I’m sorry to hear that,” he says, hitting the button that opens the gate. It creaks open slowly and I itch to press the gas pedal to the floorboard and peel out of here. I keep thinking someone is going to come running out of the house and demand he close the gate so I can’t get out. Thankfully, my fears are unfounded. Nobody is looking for me. “I hope it’s nothing serious,” the guard offers kindly.

“Me too,” I reply gratefully, ashamed and impressed by how easily the lie fell from my lips. The gate finally opens far enough to squeeze my car through, and I ease onto the road. I drive at a normal speed past the estate to avoid raising any suspicions. Once I hit the highway, I accelerate, feeling the urge to get home as fast as I can.

The long drive does little to clear my head. All I have to occupy my mind are my thoughts and the radio. I try to listen to music. It always seems to calm me, but not this time. Dierks Bentley’s “Settle for a Slow Down” plagues my conscience so I switch it off. The dilemma I’m not ready to face keeps buzzing around in my mind like an irritated bee on a summer day, looking for a place to land and bury its stinger into my vulnerable flesh.

I’ve been gone nearly twenty minutes before my phone rings. I silence it quickly before it wakes Chloe and glance at the screen, even though I know who’s calling without having to look. Jacob’s handsome face smiles back at me, his name flashing across the top. I can’t talk to him right now. I don’t know what to say. I need to get some distance. From him, from his family. I need room to breathe, to clear my head and figure out what to do next. I can’t have him altering my judgment and convincing me to come back.

When the phone stops and the screen returns to black, I flip it to silent mode and it immediately begins to vibrate. How many times will he try to call me? Will he come after me if I don’t answer? I can’t risk that happening. I’m not ready to talk to him, but I answer his call anyway. I’d rather have this conversation over the phone than have him show up at my house tomorrow.

“Abby.” His voice is breathless and panicked when I pick up. “Where are you?”

“I’m on I-66,” I answer vaguely, not wanting to give away my exact location.

“Why, Abby?” he pleads. “Where are you going?” He knows where I’m going, but he doesn’t want to believe it. He must realize by now what I overheard. When I don’t respond, he lets out a mournful sigh. “You know.” It’s not a question, but a statement; a pained, half whispered acknowledgment that I heard the confession that irrevocably changed the course of our lives.

“Yes.”

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