Page 80 of Love Rewritten

Abby remains quiet, but I can see her throat bob as her eyes fill with tears and she lets them spill down her cheeks.

“I’m sorry. I was focused on the wrong things. I didn’t know what to say, and I think I panicked a little. I went back to my old, well, normal ways I suppose, and was ready to scold you for not being honest with me from the beginning. I shouldn’t have done that. I should have offered my support at the first sign of distress.”

Still, Abby stays quiet as those silent yet extremely loud tears slip past her chin, falling to the floor.

“I know it’s going to take some time, but I hope you can forgive me. Eventually. Not right now. I know I messed up. But I want you to know that I love you, and I’m here, and I won’t leave again.”

There’s another pause, and then Abby closes the distance and hugs her. It looks a little awkward, but I’m glad she’s coming to some sort of acceptance.

The days following are calm, and for the first time, I think Abby has almost completely let go of her fear. I don’t think it will ever fully go away, but she’s giggling at stupid jokes and sassing back to Logan and me more than usual. She still holds me at night like she’s going to lose me. I think that will take some time to settle, but I also don’t mind it. I just don’t want her to feel like I’m going anywhere, because I’m certainly not. No way in hell.

The next weekend, Abby doesn’t stir when my alarm goes off. I slip out from under the arm she has draped across my chest and head to start the coffee pot. It’s been over a week of almost normal life. No legal stuff. No watching around every corner we turn. Just our weekly work.

After quietly getting myself dressed and then pulling some clothes out for Abby to dress in, I kneel next to the bed and rub her shoulder. I whisper her name, and she turns over but doesn’t wake up. I push a strand of hair behind her ear and try again.

She groans but doesn’t open her eyes. “What time is it?”

I chuckle, knowing she’s never been a morning person. “Five. I want to go somewhere.”

She strains one eye open and glares at me. “At five in the morning? Are you nuts?”

I nod even though she probably can’t see me. “Most of the time, yes. Come on.”

She groans again but does as I ask. I pass her the clothes I pulled out, a simple T-shirt and a pair of athletic shorts. She looks at them and then back up at me. “Don’t tell me we’re going to work out.”

“No, I wouldn’t do that to you at five in the morning.”

“Yes, you would,” she says as she pulls on the shorts.

A wide smile takes over my lips. “Okay, I might, but not today.”

“Where are we going?”

“You’ll see.” She eyes me curiously when I open the bedroom door, and we head out to the kitchen once she’s dressed. She squints into the kitchen when I flip the lights on.

“You’re only redeeming quality this morning is the fact that you made me coffee,” she says, taking the tumbler I pass to her.

I shrug. “Could be worse.”

She rolls her eyes and slips on her shoes, following me down to the car.

When we pull into the gravel parking lot of the park, she smiles over at me. The sun isn’t up yet, but the light has just started to trickle through the trees. We don’t speak as we make our way down the unkept path like we have so many times this summer.

I never imagined sharing this place with anyone. I only gave Logan the coordinates in case he ever needed to find me, but the only time he’s been here was to help me find Abby the day Sam came back from his work trip.

Neither of us has been back here since the night of the awards ceremony. As we turn the corner off the path into the clearing, the first thing I notice is the tree that usually stands tall above the bench providing some peaceful shade is now split down the middle in two pieces.

“Oh my gosh,” Abby gasps, holding a hand to her mouth.

From what I can make out, one half still stands up straight, but the other is hanging out over the pond, some of the leaves dipping past the water. It’s still attached to the base, barely hanging on. It’ll snap and fall in eventually. The metal bench is tipped over on its back. Somehow, out of everything, the shack tucked at the side of the line of trees still stands. The roof caved in a while ago, but there’s no further damage to it other than some small, downed branches scattering the ground around it.

“I bet the storm a couple of weeks ago took it down. That’s crazy. That tree is huge.”

“Do you think someone will come take care of it?” She looks up at the divide of the tree, skimming her eyes over all the splinters poking out at sharp jagged angles.

“Back here? Probably not. It’ll end up staying like that until it dies.”

She lets out a hum while I tip the bench back up and make sure it’s sturdy enough to sit on before we both take a seat and sip our coffee.

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