Page 57 of Bound by Their Christmas Baby

Why was this turn of events so hard to process? They’d discussed the wedding several times before. She’d known he wished to marry sooner rather than later. This made sense.

She was just overthinking it—hoping for a fantasy, praying for a miracle, when she should have known better. There was no such thing, was there? Christmas notwithstanding, theirs was not a fairy tale; there was no happily ever after in store for them.

She showered, long and slow, deliciously warm, lathering herself in soap, breathing in its floral aroma. The dress was visible through the door; she tried not to look at it.

Once she had dried herself and styled her hair into an elegant chignon, she began to apply her make-up. Only halfway through, she wondered if she should have put the dress on first?

She wasn’t good at this; she needed someone to help her. Someone who knew about weddings. It was probably why brides usually got ready for their weddings surrounded by their friends—their mothers.

She walked towards the dress and the moment she touched it tears welled in her eyes. Her own mother should have been with her. Or her father. Certainly some of her friends. But they’d all dropped away when her father had disowned her. Without the financial means to keep up with their lifestyle, Abby had found herself completely alone.

Now? She had a baby and a fiancé. Soon a husband. But there was no love there. She’d been wrong before to think she could make do with the sensible, practical justification for this wedding. It would be the loneliest marriage imaginable.

A sob racked her slender body and she wrapped her arms tightly around her waist.

It was useless.

She couldn’t do this. She couldn’t marry Gabe. Everything about it felt wrong; she was suffocating. Dying. Drowning.

She had to tell him how she felt. He might be angry but she couldn’t let that stop her. She wouldn’t marry him like this. He still hadn’t forgiven her for what she’d done—and he probably never would. There was no way she could have a husband who despised her—and especially not when she loved him with all her heart.

Abby had no choice:

she went in search of Gabe, certainty growing with each step. She found him in his bedroom, wearing a tuxedo that made her bones melt and her pulse race.

‘You look…amazing,’ she said honestly, clicking the door shut. Her breath was burning in her lungs, torturing her with every exhalation.

‘Thank you.’ He frowned as he took in the jeans and sweatshirt she was wearing.

‘You didn’t like the dress?’

‘The dress is beautiful,’ Abby whispered hoarsely. ‘But, Gabe…’ More tears moistened her eyes. ‘God, Gabe, I can’t… I can’t marry you.’

She squeezed her eyes shut, her heart breaking into a thousand pieces.

‘Abigail?’ He crossed the room but didn’t touch her. He was close to her though; she could feel his warmth and strength and it thawed her, just a little, but enough. She opened her eyes, dared to face him, to meet his gaze head-on.

‘What’s happened?’

Her expression was pinched. ‘Tell me why you want to marry me.’

‘You know why we’re marrying,’ he said with a deep frown. ‘We’ve gone over that.’

‘In New York,’ she said with a shake of her head. ‘That feels like a long time ago.’

His frown deepened. ‘Nothing’s changed since then.’

‘Are you so sure of that?’ she murmured.

He frowned.

‘We were different people then,’ she said urgently.

‘In what way?’

‘I was different,’ she amended, rubbing her palms together, lost in thought. ‘I was exhausted and scared, and angry and hurt. I was so, so tired. So worried about money. And I wasn’t thinking clearly. I truly believed I was making the right decision in coming here with you. That I could marry you as easily as I could slip on a new winter coat or…’ her eyes dropped to her hand ‘…an engagement ring.’

‘It is easy,’ he said firmly. ‘We have a son together, and now we’ll marry.’

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