Loving a Man Who Forgot Me Novel Chapter 27
“Why?” Her voice cracked, and she looked at me pleadingly. I was gutted in that instant.
I wished I could die, because that would be better than seeing her like this.
I stepped just inside the room on shaky legs, and nudged the door closed with my foot. “I don’t know,” I mumbled pathetically.
Abbi’s blue-grey eyes swam with pain. I cast my eyes downward and let my head hang in shame.
What was wrong with me? Why had I let that girl climb onto my lap? Why had I let her kiss me? Why had I kissed her back?
Only it wasn’t just some girl. It was Sabrina Diaz. Pop star. Someone at the after party caught the moment on camera.
Now it was out there for all the world to see. Abbi had clearly seen it.
“Did you . . . do more than kiss her?” she could barely get the words out. “No, we just made out,” I confessed as if it was any better.
An awful sob pierced the room and split my chest open. I fell onto my knees at her feet. “I’m so sorry.
I was drunk, and I know that’s not an excuse . . . It was a stupid, meaningless mistake. I was so stupid.
She kissed me, and it got carried away, but I swear I didn’t sleep with her.” But it went further than it should have, and I didn’t know how to explain why I let it.
I never should have let her touch me. I was still trying to understand why I did. New York was . . . it wasn’t what I expected. In some ways it was, but others . . . She blinked and twin rivulets of tears slid from her eyes. “Abbi,” I whispered in anguish.
She dropped her head and her shoulders began to shake. On instinct I pushed up and went to her side, pulling her into my arms.
“I’m sorry. So fucking sorry.” Even to my own ears it sounded lame, but there was no excuse that wouldn’t. No excuse that would make what I did even a little okay.
She pulled free of my arms, and, wiping at her eyes, met my pained gaze with her own. “Do you like her?” “No, Abbs,” I brushed a strand of hair away from her face. “I don’t even know her. She’s nothing. It was a moment of weakness. Please believe me.”
“I do,” she hiccupped and pulled away from me. “But it’s almost worse. How could you do it? Trade us for something that meant nothing?” “I didn’t trade us,” I croaked, panic rising. “You’re everything to me. You’re all I want.”
She turned her head away and whispered, “Obviously not.” “Please don’t do this, Abbi. I screwed up. I know I did. It didn’t go all the way. I swear I stopped it before it got that far, because I knew it was a mistake. A horrible mistake. It won’t ever happen again.”
She slowly returned her gaze to me. “What about when you go back to New York?” “What do you mean?” I asked, my heart punching violently against my ribcage.
This was the question I’d asked myself over and over all weekend, the one that brought up a horrible fear that was now playing out before my eyes. “You’re going to leave again,” she said matter-of-factly.
“Is this what it’s going to be like when you do? Girls throwing themselves at you? Moments of temptation and weakness that you say don’t mean anything? Am I just going to be out of sight, out of mind? Because I can’t do that, Abel.
I can’t sit here and wait for you to come home, wondering if you’re missing me at all, or if you’re with someone else. I’m so jealous I feel sick right now, and I can’t be that girl, the one too stupid to know she’s being left behind,” she sniffed. “Don’t say that. Please don’t say that,” I begged.