Loving a Man Who Forgot Me Novel Chapter 11
What had he done to get arrested?
My parents returned, and I jumped to my feet. “I—I’m going to go home. It’s late, and . . . school.”
They looked at me closely. Too closely. I hurried out of there before they could wonder anymore at my strange behavior. If they had any clue . . . I doubted I’d be able to look either of them in the eye.
The drive from the suburbs to my place in West Roxbury was a bit of a blur. I pulled the car up front and shut it off. I eyed my little yellow house. It wasn’t much, but it was mine. I made the down payment a few weeks after receiving the offer to teach at Darlington. I’d built a life for myself in the last eight years. I went to college, graduated, got a good job, bought a house. Wasn’t that the dream?
I rested my forehead on the steering wheel and squeezed my eyes shut, but it didn’t stop the moisture from leaking out. My dream had never been about the job or the house. My dream was always us. Him.
And we’d come so close. Or maybe not.
I always thought I was his dream too. That no matter what, somehow, we’d always find our way back to each other. That we were destined or fated to be together. Meant to be. That was my excuse anyway. It turned out I was incredibly stupid. And wrong.
I’d loved him my whole life, even when I shouldn’t, even when I knew better, even when he wasn’t mine to love.
And he traded it all away.
Again.
I picked my head up and wiped at my eyes.
What are you doing, Abbi? You said you weren’t going to cry another tear for him.
Two months ago I promised myself I’d cried my last over Abel McCabe. There wasn’t anything else he could do to hurt me. Because what could be worse than him marrying someone else?
We were just kids when we promised forever, when we said there wouldn’t ever be anyone else. I’d just been silly enough to mean it.
There was a chilled bottle of wine waiting for me when I got inside. I didn’t bother with a glass. It had turned into a whole bottle kind of night. I’d regret it come six a.m. when my alarm sounded, but I wasn’t thinking about school tomorrow.
I was thinking about eight years ago and the start of the end.
Abel was going to lose his mind, I thought as I twirled in front of the full-length mirror in my bedroom. I bit my lip and suppressed a grin. The dress was perfect. I didn’t want to take it off. The dark teal bodice made my eyes seem brighter than usual, and the way it hugged my body before flaring out in a mermaid style was incredibly flattering. I cupped my breasts, wishing they were a bit larger, but Abel never seemed to mind, and he was going to love the way my butt looked.
The door to my bedroom cracked open and Mom poked her head in, “If you don’t want Abel to see you in your dress before prom, you might want to take it off. He’s downstairs.”