Page 49 of Hidden Vows
On his left pec is a swing, our wedding anniversary twined within the ropes. On his left shoulder, the oak tree that represents Ashford Falls—that represents his home. On his right shoulder, the logo for Murphy’s. I can’t stop my eyes from studying every piece of art decorating his skin. The contrast of color on his left side to the simple black tattoos on his right has as much meaning as the pieces themselves, I’m sure. Jude is too intentional for that not to have meaning.
My eyes find his and the pain I see makes me lose my breath. I don’t know what happened seventeen years ago, and I thought I could do this without knowing, but seeing the dedication Jude’s always had for me, even when we were thousands of miles apart—doing this tonight, without talking about it—I think it might ruin us.
“I’m sorry,” I whisper before rushing off the bed and grabbing my shirt from the floor.
I don’t pause to put it on. The chances of anyone being in the hallway between our apartments is essentially zero. I hold the shirt to my chest, rush to grab my purse, and run out the door. I thank whatever higher power exists that I didn’t lock my apartment door as I hear Jude calling after me.
I’ve already locked myself inside and collapsed to the floor with tears pouring down my cheeks by the time Jude is knocking on my door.
twenty-two
ABBEY
AvoidingJude is harder than I thought.
It took him over an hour to finally walk away from my door that night. And I imagine, if he knew I planned on sneaking out, he would’ve sat there all night.
Friday night was a mess of things I didn’t plan—knocking on his door, kissing him, almost sleeping with him, running to my dad’s house. None of it was planned and most of it wasn’t what I wanted.
I knocked on Jude’s door needing to know the truth, needing to know if I was right about the lies, but knowing the truth was going to change everything. There aren’t many people in the world who aren’t afraid of change. People might be open to change and they might embrace it, but I don’t believe there isn’t a single part of them that isn’t afraid of change.
Seeing his tattoos, seeing our story play out across his skin, it struck something in my soul and I couldn’t follow through. Not without knowing the complete truth.
Should I have stayed and talked to him like the adult I am? More than anything, I wish I had. But I think I also needed these days surrounded by the home I was raised in. If there was ever anydoubt whether or not my parents loved each other, it’s all thrown out the window when I walk through the doors.
The house still has all the touches of my mother. And the pictures lining the wall and mantel are a testament to the good times the three of us had. I don’t understand it, especially when my mom so often refused to talk about my dad, but there was something the two of them shared that no one could damage, even Mom’s relationship with Walt.
My dad and I may not be close, but he’s the only family I have, and family has always meant something to me. It’s always been important. I know my father has many faults—he’s not perfect and he’s made plenty of mistakes—but he’s always taken care of me. He may push me in ways I don’t agree with and he may be distant, but he loves me.
None of that changes the fact that he likely played an integral role in the dissolution of my marriage. And running to his house—even though I’m surrounded by my mom too—was the last thing I wanted to do. But I also knew it was the last place Jude would look for me.
Growing up, the only time Jude ever came to my childhood home was for our joint birthday party every year—not that it was ever planned as a joint birthday party. My father barely tolerated the presence of Jude and Walt at those parties. It was all Mom’s doing that got them through the door.
It wasn’t a stretch to think Jude still wouldn’t want to show up on this doorstep if he thought he might run into my dad. Of course, seeing the changes in Jude—seeing how the last seventeen years have shaped him—I can’t really say what he’d do anymore.
He’s been fighting for me in little ways since he came home. Quietly showing up every day to support me in whatever I’m doing and gently pushing me to open myself back up to him.
Ava wasn’t wrong. Jude has been around a lot and I’velikedhaving him around. I want him to keep being around.
And yet…
I’m hiding out at my dad’s so Jude can’t corner me at home. I’m keeping the bookstore door locked so he can’t come in to help me. And I’m avoiding visiting Walt in case Jude’s there spending time with his dad.
I’m such a coward.
The sound of a key in the lock makes me jump and the refrigerator door slams shut as I spin to the back door, my father’s brows pinching at the sight of me standing here.
“Abbey. I wasn’t expecting you to be here. Is everything okay?” he asks as he wheels his suitcase further into the kitchen, the door closing behind him.
“Oh, yeah. I just wanted to stop by and make sure everything was all right.” I step up to the kitchen island, toying with a dish towel lying next to the mess I’ve yet to clean up from the cookies now baking in the oven.
My dad lifts one brow, not believing me for a second. There’s no way I would be making cookies in his kitchen if I was only stopping by.
“I needed a break from all the construction going on at the bookstore. I figured since you were out of town it wouldn’t be a big deal.” I avoid looking at him as I start gathering the dirty dishes and walking them to the sink.
“You know you’re always welcome here.” I still don’t look at him, but I hear him moving closer to me. “This will always be your home,” he says before pressing a kiss to the top of my head.
It’s little moments like these that make it hard to accept what he might have done. That make it hard to accept that in order to truly move forward with Jude, I have to hear the truth. And hearingthe truth could destroy everything that exists between my dad and I—no matter how strained it is.
