Page 13 of Hidden Vows
I guess I assumed I could handle it like everything else in my life—leave it in its designated box, buried deep, with no plans to resurrect it. But seeing her yesterday changed everything.
Abbey was never to blame for what happened seventeen years ago. It was entirely my fault, and if I’d been a big enough person to admit I didn’t know what to do…if I’d justtalkedto Abbey and my dad, things would be different. But then again, there’s no way to know what that “different” would look like. No matter how much I want to hope otherwise, Abbey and I still might not havemade it.
People change—or at least they should.
What’s to say, our being together wouldn’t have stunted that change? Of course, what’s to say we wouldn’t have pushed each other to be the best version of ourselves?
But that’s the point. We’ll never know what the future could have been if we made different choices. We can only live in the present. And I might not know how Abbey has changed since I last spoke to her, but I know I want to find out.
“Do you know if Dad has any tenants in the apartment above the bar right now?”
“Oh. Uh. No. I don’t think so.” He swallows audibly before turning to face me. “But are you sure that’s where you want to stay? I’m pretty sure it’s completely empty.”
“Yeah. I don’t know how long I’ll be staying in town.” And I’m not ready to stay in my father’s house without him. That might make it a little too real that there’s a possibility he won’t wake up from this.
“All right.” Gage’s eyes shift to look at my father in his bed for a moment, clearly thinking about something before he looks back to me. “I realize we haven’t spoken in a really long time, but you’ve always been one who likes it told to them straight, so I’m just going to say it like it is.”
“Okay.” I shift, turning to face him head-on, banding my arms across my chest as if preparing to take a hit. It might not be a physical blow, but based on the look in Gage’s eye, it’s going to be an emotional one.
“Abbey lives in the apartment above the bookstore, the bookstore right next to the bar. The same apartment right across the hall from the one you’re asking about.”
Well, I didn’t see that one coming.
Gage releases a heavy sigh, his eyes bouncing between mine. I don’t move, preparing for the next hit.
“Look, I don’t know what happened between you and Abbey. I honestly don’t think there’s a single person in this world who knows other than you two. But I saw the aftermath, and it wasn’t pretty.” His head shifts, turning to look out the window. “Abbey lost a lot more than you when you left, and it took her a long time to find any kind of peace again.” When he turns back to look at me, there’s nothing but concern in his eyes. “I obviously didn’t see you after it happened, but I know how much you loved her. And if that look on your face yesterday told me anything, you still do.”
“Gage—”
“All I’m saying,” Gage interrupts, “is that I don’t want to see either of you hurt.”
I don’t know what to say, so instead of saying anything, I give him a terse nod and turn back to the window.
I’m not naive enough to think Abbey was okay after I left, but hearing the words out loud…makes it real. It makes it hurt just a little bit more, knowing the pain I caused her.
Everything I did was with the hope she’d still have her friends and family to lean on when I left. That she’d have the support of this town to help her bear the weight of everything. But I should’ve known Abbey better. She was never going to tell anyone what happened between us. She never would’ve wanted to keep me from returning home if that’s what I wanted.
She never would’ve wanted my father to look at me any differently.
On that thought, I can’t help but look back at my dad, still so small in his hospital bed.
My dad will always love me, no matter what I do. He’s lovedme all these years, through all the missed holidays and canceled trips, through all the letdowns and unanswered questions. But if he knew what happened seventeen years ago, he wouldn’t look at me the same way. That pride Ava spoke about yesterday would have chinks in it. His faith in me would’ve wavered, and I never would’ve been able to live with that.
The fact that Abbey had every right to destroy that faith and devotion but chose not to…it proves how strong she is—how good she is. Her goodness was always the thing I loved most about her. Her brightness and ability to find the best in people and any situation—if she lost that because of what I did, I’ll never forgive myself.
“Is she happy?” The words are so soft I wonder if Gage heard me, but when he answers I swear my heart stops beating.
It’s laterthan I planned when I finally make it up the stairs to the apartment above the bar, my duffle and laptop bag thrown over one shoulder and an air mattress tucked under my other arm.
Gage warned me that the place was probably a mess, but I wasn’t expecting it to be as bad as it is. It may be completely empty of furniture, but since no one’s been up here in who knows how long, there’s a thick layer of dust coating every inch of the place.
Dropping my things in the hall, I step inside. Nothing’s changed about this place. It’s a predominantly open living space. The only areas behind closed doors being the bedroom and bathroom. The kitchen is directly to the left, the counters running in an L-shape along the walls with a small island in the middle. In the back left corner is the space typically meant for a dining table. In front of me, the area for a living room, and to the right the doorsthat lead to the bedroom and bathroom.
A wave of nostalgia washes over me, the memories of playing in here as a kid while my dad worked down in the bar, of Abbey and I moving in after we were married, of the happy moments we had in the brief months we lived here, of the night I ruined everything.
I want so badly to only hold on to the good memories of this place, but it’s the painful ones that take center stage. And the reality is, I wouldn’t be who I am today without all of those memories flooding my system.
I close my eyes and take a second to center myself. Letting my mind run wild won’t do me any good.
