Page 39 of One Good Puck
“No, seriously. You got her to eat real food before going to the movies. That’s never happened before.” Abby looks over at Emma, who’s happily chowing down on a carrot stick while watching a YouTube video.
“Aww, way to go, Dad,” Sophie says with a smile.
A second later, she and Xander get pulled into a nearby conversation with Blomdahl and his fiancée, Bella. Abby glances down at her phone.
“Emma’s grandparents are here. I’m going to take her down to their car,” she says.
“Want a glass of wine when you come back?”
“That would be perfect.”
“Red or white?”
“Red, please.”
“You got it.”
“Bye, Gavin! Thanks for girl dinner,” Emma says.
I can’t help but laugh. “You’re welcome, kiddo. And thanks for letting me have some.”
“Can we have girl dinner together again tomorrow night?” she asks.
“Absolutely.”
I catch Abby smiling as she looks between the two of us. I wave bye to Emma, walk over to the bartender, and order a glass of Chianti for Abby. When she walks back in, I hand it to her. She takes a long sip and closes her eyes.
When she opens her eyes, she’s smiling at me. “That’s just what I needed. Thank you.”
I gesture to the sign. “Ingrid said you painted that. It looks amazing.”
She beams. “Thank you. It was fun to be able to do a little painting. It’s been so long since I’ve picked up a paintbrush. I made it in your guest house. Hope that was okay.”
“Yeah, of course.” I smile, happy that she’s been using the space for her artwork. “I’m just glad they didn’t ask me to paint their congratulations sign. My artistic abilities are scary bad.”
Abby chuckles. It feels good to make her laugh.
I hesitate for a second before clearing my throat. “Listen, about the other night. I know I was pretty abrupt with how I ended our conversation. I’m sorry about that. Talking about what McCoy did triggered something from my past, and I needed to be alone to process it. But I shouldn’t have just walked out on you like that. I should have explained.”
Abby’s brow furrows, and a pained look flashes over her pretty face. “It’s okay. You don’t need to be sorry. I getit.”
“You do?”
She nods and hesitates for a second. “Dakota told me what happened with your wife and her ex.”
Her expression twists like she’s going to be sick.
“You don’t have to talk about it if you don’t want to,” she says. “Just know that I understand completely. I’m so sorry for what your wife went through. And for what you went through too.”
Relief and comfort hit me all at once. I don’t have to explain it. I don’t have to justify my feelings or my reactions. She just gets it.
“Thank you,” I say quietly.
She nods and lets out a breath, like she’s relieved.
“It’s probably weird how something that happened so long ago still upsets me,” I say.
She shakes her head. “I don’t think that at all. I think it’s normal. That was a traumatizing thing your wife went through. And I’m sure it was traumatizing for you to see her suffer through it.”
