Page 19 of Hidden Vows
It may have been your birthday wish to have your first kiss, but it was my wish to have my first kiss with you. I tried to talk you out of it, telling you that you should experience it withsomeone special, but you told me there was no one more special than me.
Even then, I knew I wasn’t good enough for you but I couldn’t say no. You were—and still are—my greatest wish, Abbey.
I cupped your cheeks in my hands and pulled you in close. You closed your eyes immediately, but I watched you until the moment our lips touched. It wasn’t anything more than a press of our lips, but I still felt it in my soul. I knew in that moment you were the only one for me.
I saw it in your eyes when we pulled away—the shock you felt. I was relieved I wasn’t the only one who felt the shift. We didn’t talk about it right away, but it wasn’t long after that we officially started dating. Your dad was pissed, but we ignored him.
Maybe we should have paid more attention to it. Maybe there was something more we should have done. Maybe…
eight
JUDE
I know I shouldn’t,but I can’t help myself when I step into the bookstore Wednesday morning—it’s as if it’s entirely out of my control.
Seeing Abbey through the front window—one elbow propped up on the counter, her chin resting in the palm of her hand—reading a book. She’s too tempting to ignore.
Since I watched her walk out of my dad’s hospital room, I’ve made it a point to stay in the apartment above the bar until I hear Abbey leave. Not because I don’t want to see her, but because I wanted to give her time to accept what I told her Sunday afternoon—I will prove to her that I’m not the same person I was when I left town.
Three days probably isn’t enough, considering what happened between us, but I’ve gone so long without her, and now that I’ve seen her again I don’t want to waste any more time.
I never thought I’d be back in Ashford Falls, let alone see Abbey again, but I don’t know how to ignore this opportunity. There’s no other way to say it: I was an idiot when I was nineteen. I made the wrong decision and I’ve had to live with it. But nowI’m thirty-six, and I’m doing pretty well; I don’t have to rely on anyone else to be successful anymore, and that means I can take care of myself and anyone else I might choose.
And I’ll always choose Abbey.
No matter how much time passes or where we are, she’s always been and always will be the person I want to be with most.
I never wanted our story to play out the way it has, and I can’t help but view this as a chance to make things right with her.
Abbey is the love of my life.
Ever since I told her we’d talk about everything, I can’t stop the possibilities from running through my head. I never stopped wanting her; I wasn’t strong enough to fight for that, but I am now.
Walking into the bookstore may not be what Abbey wants, but it’s what I need. And unfortunately for her, I can’t wait any longer to address things between us. Maybe that was my issue back then, not being brave enough to prioritize my wants above others, but I’m more than capable now.
The bell above the door rings, giving my entrance away before I’m ready for it, but I don’t let it stop me.
It takes Abbey a second to register it’s me walking through the door, but she straightens from her position as soon as she does, her body going taut.
“Jude—” she tries to speak, but I don’t let her finish.
I have eyes only for her. “Here’s the thing,” I start, stepping up to the other side of the counter. “I know you’re not ready to talk, and I want to respect that, but I also know you won’t be ready to talk any time soon, not if I don’t push a little.”
Her eyes bounce between mine, but she doesn’t open her mouth to say anything.
“I don’t want us to act like the past didn’t happen, but I know we’re not in a place to talk about that yet, so let’s try to focus onsomething outside of you and me. I don’t care what it is. It can be as small as the weather, but we have to start somewhere.”
Abbey’s eyes stay trained on mine, but I see her fingers start to fidget with the corners of the book in front of her—it’s as good a place as any to start. “That’s a new book. Did you finish the other one?”
She bites her lip, her eyes falling to the pages in front of her for a moment before her spine straightens and her eyes meet mine, determination burning bright. It’s a struggle smothering the smile that pulls at the corner of my lips. Abbey’s fight was always something I loved about her, and I’m glad she hasn’t lost it.
“I did. Definitely his worst work yet.” Her brows pinch as she studies me. “You’re really interested in my thoughts on that book. Are you a fan of AJ Doherty?”
“You could say that.” I feign indifference, but it’s harder than I imagine.
Am I a fan of AJ Doherty? That’s one way to put it. A better way, a more honest way would be to tell her the truth—Iam AJ Doherty. But if I tell her that now, there’s no way she’ll be honest about her opinions on my work, and Abbey’s opinion is the one I care about most.
I’ve had negative reviews before—been torn apart by editors and publishers alike—but something about Abbey not liking my work hurts in a way none of the others have.
