Loving a Man Who Forgot Me Novel – Chapter 1
The vulgar diamond gleamed garishly, nestled within the black velvet. The thing was large enough to blind someone. She’d have nothing less on her precious finger. I snapped the box closed and shoved it in my pocket. Maybe it would disappear like a magic trick.
Nope. Still there.
Hunching over the edge of the bed, I dropped my head into my hands. My heart pounded erratically in my chest like it was trying to escape, but it was as trapped as I was.
Wrestling with the urge to throw up, I drew in a couple deep breaths.
You can do this.
You have to do this.
To change my mind now would mean . . . no, it wasn’t even an option. That’s what I had to remind myself, there was only one choice. Quit fighting it.
At six years old, I’d known I was going to marry Abigail Cross. I’d known it like I’d known I was going to be the greatest rock star in the world, even bigger than my famous dad. I made sure both our families knew it too. They’d smiled, laughed and, to my annoyance, gushed over how adorable we were, me holding Abbi’s hand the way I always saw my dad holding my mom’s. They didn’t get it then.
My world had always revolved around two things. My best friend, the girl who shared my crib and stole my binkies when she came along just a month after I was born. And the guitar my dad put in my hands before I even learned how to walk. Those two things shaped every moment after they came into my world.
My first word was Abbi. At fourteen, she was my first kiss. At sixteen, my first everything else. The girl owned me body and soul.
There would never be anyone else for me. The devastation of that was still sinking in.
You know what you have to do.
But was I strong enough to do it?
The distant creak of the front door caught my attention. “Babe, you here?” a hesitant voice echoed through the penthouse.
I eyed the phone beside me. Ignoring my better judgement, I snatched it up and fired off a single text before I changed my mind. A simple, I’m sorry, and then powered off the screen and tossed the phone down on the bed. It would never be enough.
Please forgive me.
I didn’t deserve forgiveness, not for what I’d done or what I was about to do, but wasn’t that the thing about forgiveness? It was for people who didn’t deserve it. I let myself latch onto that speck of hope as I exhaled through the building sense of dread.
It was now or never.
My feet were lead on the way to the living room, but I couldn’t have hidden even if I’d wanted to. The clack of her heels on the hardwood drew nearer.
I stepped out of the hall and our eyes met. We both stilled. Neither of us spoke. My throat was dry and tight, and I suppose my earlier actions had left her unsure of what to say. Bolting from her apartment in a fit of anger hadn’t been my finest moment.
There was no running from this.
“Abel, we need to talk about it,” she started slowly.
I silenced her by pulling the box from my pocket and taking slow strides toward her. She eyed me and the box warily. “Is that . . .”
I nodded. Dread, regret, sorrow, and a million other emotions threatened to swallow me whole as I sank to one knee in front of her. She gasped, and I pried the little box open. Her eyes grew huge and were riveted to the jewel inside.
“Katya, will you marry me?”
A gleeful grin spread across her lips. “Oh, Abel! Yes, yes, yes! A thousand times, yes!” She grabbed for the box, plucking it from my hand and bringing it to her face. “Oh, it’s so beautiful. Put it on me!”
She shoved it back at me. I stood, a weight like a rock in my stomach. I wedged the ring from the box and slid it onto Kat’s bony, manicured finger. Everything about the moment was wrong.
I only had myself to blame for this.