Page 14 of Love Rewritten

I think I’m too stunned to say anything. Too shocked to begin to process the words that left her mouth. I think I stop breathing for a few seconds before realizing the inside of my lip is now raw. I fold my hands in my lap as tightly as I can, the circulation cutting off from each finger.

“That’swhat you care about? That I lied to you?” I frantically wipe the tears from my hot cheeks before standing from the booth and pointing at the door. “Out. Get. Out.”

“Abigail—”

“Stop. I’m so fucking tired of this.” My voice breaks with the words. “You need to go.”

I fix my eyes on the floor as I hear her slowly move from the booth. She attempts to place a hand on either side of my arms but I back away. I point again without saying anything this time.

“Can we please talk about this?” she asks, softer this time.

“Talk? I just tried to, and you latched on to my lying instead of themonthsof abuse. So, no. We’re done talking. Go.”

She takes a long breath, and I know she’s hesitating. For a moment, I think she might fight for me. And I think I want her to. But any last slice of hope of her trying to fix this vanishes as she grabs her purse and moves slowly to the door. And as the door clicks shut, Dallas is already there, pulling my head to his chest. My tears soak into his uniform as I wrap my arms around his torso, clinging to the fabric for dear life.

Chapter 6

Dallas

Mymomcalledalittle after I got home from work. She said she had something important to discuss. The location of choice is her office, which struck me as odd. She doesn’t like hosting meetings in her office. She likes keeping it a drama-free zone. So, when she told me to go straight to her office, I tried not to think much of it. I figure it will either be family-related or something with Abby. The latter is thrown out the window when I arrive to see Rose sitting in a chair in front of a large wooden desk, opposite our mom, who rests in her mesh swivel chair. Rose looks at me with worry in her eyes. I take a seat in the other chair next to Rose.

“Thank you, guys, for coming on such short notice,” Mom says. Her tone is formal like she’s trying to mask her true feelings. Her face remains neutral. She shows no hint of emotion, the lawyer side of her coming through.

“What’s going on?” Rose asks, looking from Mom to me.

She takes a long deep breath, her gaze passing between us before speaking. “Before I say anything, I, we, your father and I, want you both to know we love you very much and what I’m about to share is no fault of either of you.”

I look at Rose, who also looks at me, before returning my attention to my mom. I feel like I should be more nervous than I am, but for some reason, I’m not. “Okay?” I say, drawing out the word.

Mom swallows. “Your father and I have been talking. We decided this would be better coming from me. That is why he isn’t here right now. But we’ve been talking and … we’ve decided to get a divorce.”

She watches us curiously, waiting for our reactions. Within seconds, a few tears trail down Rose’s cheeks. To my surprise, I’m not shocked by this news. I’m still furious with my father, but I had a feeling this was coming. Maybe it came a little sooner than I expected, but deep down, I was preparing for it. I’m not sure if he’s still seeing the other woman, but I don’t think it matters. If I were in Mom’s position, I wouldn’t want to stay married to him either.

“Okay,” I say. My fists grip the leather seat beneath me so hard I could rip a hole through it. I take a deep breath to keep myself from speaking ill of him. More for my mom's sake than my dad's.

I stand to hug her, pulling Rose with me, and we all wrap our arms around each other as if we can keep each other from falling apart. This shouldn’t be the reason we stand here embracing. It shouldn’t be the reason we had to gather in the first place. Leave it to my dad to ruin everything. If it’s just the three of us now, I won’t take that for granted. I should have figured that out sooner after Cole died, but I was far too caught up in my anger and sadness to think clearly.

The words are out of my mouth before I can stop them. “I’m sorry he’s such a dick,” I mumble into my mom's hair.

To my delight, she chuckles. “Me, too.”

Rose laughs, too, and for a moment, the news doesn’t feel so heavy. I know this is what’s best for everyone, my mom especially. She deserves to move on from this if that’s what she wants. Find some peace after a terrible year. I suppose we all do.

Abby spent all afternoon and night in bed. I’m not exactly sure what she was doing, but she said she wanted to be alone. So, I let her. Logan and I spent the night watching a baseball rerun. With our second game tomorrow, I could only stay away for so long. Since she’s in my bed, I suppose I could sleep on the couch. But I want the closeness of her mind and body next to me. I want to feel her arm brush mine when she changes positions. To feel her breath on my skin when she cuddles into me.

I push open my bedroom door to see her sound asleep, curled into a ball under her favorite purple blanket. I change quickly before climbing in beside her. The TV plays an episode of some bad reality show, so I pull the comforter over her shoulders before clicking it off.

She barely moves when I pull myself out of bed in the morning. I trudge toward the kitchen to make some coffee and leave to check the mail. As I flip through it, most of it being junk, I stop on a thick envelope addressed to Abby. She doesn’t get much mail, especially something like this. All of her mail still has the yellow forwarding stickers on it from her old apartment. She hasn’t changed her address on anything yet. The return address is from Oxly University. So, I set it on the counter until she’s awake.

An hour passes and she finally makes her way out of the bedroom, her blanket wrapped around her shoulders with her hair pulled into a bun atop her head. She joins me on the couch with a mug of coffee and I kiss the top of her head as she leans into my shoulder.

“Morning,” she says, taking a long sip of coffee.

“Morning. How’d you sleep?”

“Meh,” is all she says.

I don’t blame her. Yesterday was a lot. So, I’m not surprised she didn’t sleep well. “How are you feeling about yesterday? A lot happened in a very short time frame.”

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