A Long Time Coming (29 page)

So as she stepped out of her
car, chin held high, she made a deal with herself. A deal that would surely
make her life a lot easier in the long run. A deal to forgive, a deal to
forget—she’d take what she was given, run with it, and love it with all she
had…even if it was never technically hers to begin with. Her smile grew wider
as she stopped in the middle of the street, now fifteen or so feet before the
brick building of her school. In the midst of the rain, Abigail simply took the
moment to revel in the life she’d been blessed with.

Yeah, this was good. In fact,
with her little pep talk, she felt better than she had in a long time.
Strangely, there was still so much wrongness in her world at that point, but
now, she’d do everything she could to keep the rest of the bad at bay.

Today would be a day for
getting past the wrongs, and wholeheartedly accepting what she’d been blessed
with to date.

David…

Her baby…

A best friend…

Her mother…

And the man who she’d never
accept as anything other than her dad–gay uncle status and all…

Yes…today would be a good day.

But as she sighed and began to
step forward towards the steps of the building, the life she was excited to
start living flashed before her widened eyes…just as the sound of screeching
tires skidded off to her left.

Chapter Twenty–Seven

“Where is she dammit! I need
to see her,” his mother pulled at one arm, his father at the other. Harley was
behind him, sobbing into Mason’s chest.

“Honey, please…just calm
down.” Was his mother actually telling him to
calm down?
He couldn’t
hear her if she was. Nor did he care. He was blocking his hearing, blocking
everything around him until he knew where she was, until he knew if she was
okay. Nothing else mattered—nothing but Abigail…

Where was she? He had to find
her. Hold her…be with her. Kiss her. Take her in his arms and shelter her away
from the bad. Dammit. Why her…why them? Hadn’t he been punished enough already
in life? What the fuck had he done to deserve the constant shithole punishment
he was always dealt? If something happened to her…if something stole her away,
if death took its nasty hands and even came close to her, there’s no telling
what he’d do.

“I’m David Anderson,” he
snarled at the receptionist, “my fiancée was hit by a car this morning down at
Johanna’s Beauty School. Abigail Zane. A–B–I–G–A–I–L…Z–A–N–E.” With a roar, he
pounded his fist against her desk, sending papers flying and a rattling
explosion of anger throughout the small reception area. The lady eyed him with
disdain above her glasses, brows knit together in the middle, looking bitchy
and rude and uncaring that his fucking girl—his fucking baby too—were somewhere
in that hospital, needing him that very second. He backed away, running his
hands through his hair, pulling, praying, and begging—silently pleading with
God himself…

“David, calm down, Son,” his
father’s hand was on his arm again, and he swatted it away, wishing everyone
would stop saying that. How could he calm down? How? It wasn’t possible. A car
ran into his girlfriend, the love of his life. There was no way he could stay
calm. No. Fucking. Way. Being
calm
and
in control,
were not
emotions he’d ever be able to obtain again. Rage, terrified, ready to murder
anyone who stopped him, yes—everything else was so far gone off his scale that
it wasn’t even registering.

“
I won’t calm down until I
see her
.” He growled, eyes narrowed, teeth gritted, heart beating against
his temples.

“She’s in the ICU unit now.
And I’m afraid she’s got the maximum number of people by her side that she’s
allowed to have.” He growled again as this dipshit of a woman so nonchalantly
spouted off the details with the flick of her fingers.

Slapping his palms flat
against the wood of her desk again, he yelled his question, not caring what
everyone around him thought. Not caring that he had drawn a crowd. He needed
answers. He needed to see her. And nobody was helping him! “Who’s in there with
her? Nobody matters but me!
I’m
her fucking family here!”

“I think I’m gonna be sick,”
Harley moaned from behind, dashing away towards the bathroom, Mason in tow,
cursing under his breath.

“Come on…we can wait in the
waiting room.” Pulling at his hair, willing for it to fall out, to stop
annoying him, to be in control of something for once, David darted away from
his too calm to be for real parents, and headed towards the elevator, limping
as fast as the prosthetic would allow today.

Simply pushing the buttons to
go up wasn’t working, so he pounded the panel with his fists, slamming his
knuckle so hard into the metal that his fingers began to grow numb. “It’s not
going to help her if you act this way, Son.” There was his dad again, all calm
and fucking collected. Screw him.

“How else am I supposed to
act? My girlfriend could be dying up there and I can’t see her! I can’t calm
down. I can’t! Not till I see her face. Not till I know she’s going to be
okay.” His forehead throbbed harder and he pressed his hands against his
temples, begging his skull to stay pain free for just this once. The dizziness
needed to stay away too—needed to take a step back, take second to his aching
heart for once. He wasn’t thinking clearly as it was, and if a migraine started
up again, then he’d be screwed.

“Come on, let’s go. She needs
you.” Taking his elbow with her hand, his mother pulled her to him—her chin
high, tears in her eyes as she led him into the now open elevator.

“I’ll wait for Harley and
Mason. You two go ahead.” Kissing his mom’s head, and nodding once at him, his
father disappeared beyond the doors as they shut.

Anger brewed in his mother’s
eyes as she turned to face him. Her lips looked white from being pursed
together and her cheeks took on the appearance of stone as she gave him the
death stare–down.

“Now, listen up, and listen
good because
this
is what you need to do,” his mother hit the stop
button on the elevator and a buzzing alarm sounded. For the briefest of
seconds, she looked almost fiercer than he did. As she took on that role of the
provider she was known for—the fighter he knew she always was—David wanted
nothing more than to crumble, right into the wall, and then onto the floor. But
he couldn’t let himself feel anything beyond the anger, because if he let the
other emotions slip in, then he wouldn’t be able to come back from them.

Abigail was hurt… He couldn’t
live without her. He couldn’t lose her. He shook his head, over and over,
praying this was a nightmare, praying he could just wake up and she’d be there
in his arms. He shouldn’t have let her go home last night. He wouldn’t have let
her go to school this morning and she would still be in his bed, in his arms.
They would have skipped today—together—spending the day making love, creating
more memories; enjoying the newness of their brand new relationship. She wasn’t
meant to be
here
, wasn’t meant to be lying in some hospital bed, dammit.
Nothing about this was fair! She was his; she couldn’t be taken from him. Not
yet, not when they had so much more time together. A lifetime of forever, it
was theirs to hold on to, nobody could steal it from them. Nobody.

The buzz of the stop button
continued to sound. He clenched his fingers against his waist, wanting to press
his palms over his ears to keep the noise away, wanting to rock back and forth
like a crazy person in a mental ward with white walls and no sound. But he was
growing numb all over instead, not just in his hands, but in his stomach, his
head, his entire being. No, hell no…numbness wasn’t good. Numbness made way for
pain. He wasn’t ready to feel pain. He was ready to fight.

“Now, you go up there, you act
like a damn man, you support the love of your life, good or bad news. You love
her. You hold her hand if she needs you, and you back away when she demands you
to leave. Because I’m telling you right now that she will, dammit. If it’s bad,
she will.” Swallowing became impossible, but he did it, painfully, just as his
mother pointed a finger into his chest. “She’s going to live though this, she’s
going to make it, and
you
are not going to walk away, just like
she
didn’t
walk away from you.”

“God Mom, I’d never leave her.
I would never walk away.” His face was steeled. His armor was up. Damn right he
was ready to fight. He’d always fight for her. How could his mother think
otherwise? “She will always have me, no matter if she wants me or not.”

“Are you sure? Because you
have no idea what you’re about to face up there.”

Did she not have faith in him
at all anymore? Had he really screwed up so much these past few years to make
her think so lowly of him? The question was too, did he not deserve to be
counted on anymore? The answer was beyond clear to him: Hell yeah he did. He
deserved to be there for Abigail. He deserved the happiness she provided, and
even the crap that went along with the happiness. He was the one who she needed
too, nobody else, only him. They needed to make their halves whole again, they
needed to come together. It was the only way they knew how to work. It was the
only way they could survive.

“Mom, let go of the button…”

“Not until I have a promise
from you—”

“Mom, seriously, let go of the
fucking button!”

Eyes narrowing, she shook her
head, leaning back against the panel, crossing her arms as she did. She was
really going to make him promise, right here, right now? He blew out a breath,
anger leaving for a second to make room for acceptance. “Fine, there’s no point
in denying the fact that I won’t screw up somewhere, but I can guarantee I
won’t give up. Ever. She’s it for me. I love her.”

Nodding in what appeared to be
satisfaction she turned around and finally let go of the button. Her back
ramrod, her chin held high—you’d never think she had little time to live by the
looks of her. His mother was feisty, fierce, and he loved the fuck out of her,
even if she got under his skin.

“That’s all I needed to hear,
David. Now, let’s go see your girl.” Reaching for her hand, nodding at her in
complete respect, he tucked her fist back into the crook of his arm, needing
her there with him.

The doors swung open on the
fifth floor, leading him to the place where his lifeline lay in the hands of
doctors, nurses, and probably God himself. But God had another think coming if
he thought he was going to take her from him. The big guy would have to get
through David first. And sharing was no longer in his vocabulary when it came
to this girl. Abigail was his—nobody’s else’s.

Chapter Twenty–Eight

The end of the beginning…

There comes a time in life
where you have to let go. You have to open your hands, let the bad fall from
your soul, only to embrace what you have left, leaving what you can’t have
behind.

The words were there, written
clearly in his journal in black. But did he believe them? He wanted to… He
wanted to accept the bad, take the good… But when something you love is taken
from you, it’s almost impossible to accept that.

He propped his black pen over
his ear and leaned back in his chair folding his arms. Staring down at the face
of his sleeping love was all he needed today. She hadn’t stopped crying for two
weeks straight. Fourteen days, three hundred and thirty–six hours of non–stop
tears…and all he could physically do, was let her. He held her when she begged
to be held. He stayed back when she screamed for him to leave. But did he ever
actually leave? No. Abso–fucking–lutely not. He’d made a promise, and he didn’t
go back on his promises. He
would
stay with Abigail, unless she begged
him to go. Even then, he’d be right there outside the door of her room, sitting
against the wall, waiting for her to cry out for him again. She’d never push
him away fully, no matter how hard she tried.

She was broken, like him now,
not as permanently, but temporarily, yes. With a broken left arm, a broken
collar bone, and a concussion that added to the bruises covering her entire
face, Abigail looked exactly like a girl who was on the verge of death. But
luckily, that bitch had taken the hint and stayed the fuck away.

Still, she looked just as
beautiful as ever. No broken bones, scars, or bruises would ever deter him from
loving this girl. But he knew all the tears she’d shed weren’t from the obvious
pain she’d gone through of the physical sense. And he knew she wasn’t crying
over the fact that her perfect skin had been flawed by ugly marks from that
car. His beautiful Abigail Zane was crying over the loss of their child.

The baby they would never
know.

The one stolen by Death after
all…

He shook his head at the
thought, pressing his face into his palms to keep his shuddering breaths from
falling out. He hadn’t let himself think past Abigail, hadn’t had time. But
every second longer he waited for her to come back to him, the picture of a kid
he would never know popped into his head. And he didn’t think he could hold it
together much longer.

He stood, and pulled the
covers over her waist, tucking them under her chin. She moaned a bit in her
dreamy state, and he wanted to kiss her—settle his mouth over her temple—but he
was so scared to wake her up that he didn’t do it. She needed her sleep. She
hadn’t done so for days now. She was exhausted, physically as much as mentally,
and he was scared to death she was going to give up. He’d been there, he knew
how easy it was to grab onto the grief and hang onto it. It was easier to just
be sad, even if it did hurt more in the long run.

Stepping into the hallway, he
let out a sigh as her door clicked shut behind him. But instead of the
darkness, he was bombarded by the face of Abigail’s father instead. He nodded,
reaching out to shake his hand. The man hadn’t left since she’d come home,
taking shifts with David and her mom, sitting by her side when David was almost
forced to leave by his own parents. If he had a choice in the matter, he never
would have left. But according to his mom, a person had to shower and eat.
Where in the hell was the justice in that anyways?

“How is she this morning?”

David shrugged, “Better maybe?
I don’t really know. She isn’t talking, other than a
hi
or a
bye
,
or a
can I get something to drink
.” Nodding once, her father slipped
beside him, grabbing the handle to let himself in. David knew the guy harbored
a lot of guilt for lying to her all these years, but if ever there was a man
who proved himself to be a father, it was this one—biological or not.

David moved on towards the
steps, but was jolted to a stop by the man’s hoarse voice behind him. “You are
good for her. She loves you and needs you more than any of us. Take care of
her, please.” He didn’t turn around, but the words cut him all the same. A
person needed all the love they could get when suffering through a tragedy, not
just his. David, of all people, knew that for a fact.

But he couldn’t find the
strength to speak. He didn’t know really how to put his feelings into words
anyways. Although he did know a thank you was in order. Just not in the way a
person would think.

“Mr. Zane?” He was still there
he hadn’t gone into her room yet. The floorboards creaked under his feet as he
moved, that’s how he could tell. “Thank you, for being there for her. Abigail
couldn’t have been raised by a better man than you.” And before he could listen
to a response, he made his way to the stairs, letting a few random tears fall
for a second before pushing them away with the sleeve of his shirt.

He’d only allowed himself to
cry once, and that was when Harley had gone in to see her the day after the
accident. His brown–eyed, emotional mess of a sister cried so hard, and when
she cried, he wasn’t afraid to anymore.

This time was different
though. Now he shed tears of frustration, sadness,
and
grief. He wanted
Abigail to be better. He wanted things to be good again, like they were before.
But as long as she was alive, that’s all he could ask for.

His dad was parked along the
driveway, waiting for him. Even from the distance and through the glass of the
windshield, he could see the wariness and exhaustion on his face. His mom had
finally decided to go through with the chemo after all, saying she was doing it
to prove a point. The point being that she said she wouldn’t walk away from
them without a fight—something similar to the conversation they’d had in the
elevator at the hospital.

Unfortunately, like they’d
expected, it had been rough. The sickness that went along with her chemo had
really taken its toll. Some nights he could hear her crying from his room, when
he wasn’t staying with Abigail. His mom was scared, and with his dad, she let
it all go, only to put on a front in the morning with him. He accepted her
tears this time—and a lot of the time he wanted to cry right along with her.
But again, he had a duty to stay strong. He’d been the weak one for long
enough.

Harley had gone back to
California a few days after her first treatment. Mason had convinced her that
she needed to finish up the semester like planned, and then go from there. As
of two days ago, she called, announcing the decision he had already expected.
She’d decided not to take the job in Chicago. She’d claimed it was because she
didn’t want to leave everyone, and part of that was true. But he also knew his
twin—she was too much in love with Mason to let Chicago steal that away from
her.

“Hey Dad,” he groaned as he
sunk into the leather, bucket seat.

“How’s it going today?”

“It’s going, I guess. She was
sleeping when I left, so that’s something.” Pressing his head against the cool
glass of the window, he shut his eyes. He was tired too—maybe he could get a
twenty minute nap in before he had to be at work.

Adam had finally gotten out of
the hospital, but he still needed someone to drive him to therapy and stay with
him during the afternoons when his mom worked and his grandma wasn’t around to
help out. He liked spending time with the kid, took his mind off everything, so
he’d agreed to be a glorified babysitter for the time being. Really though, who
would have thought that being with an eleven–year–old, three nights a week,
would be sort of a highlight in his week?

“Good. She needs it.”

“Yeah, she does…”

Awkwardness settled between
the two of them, and David chose to take the easy way out, settling into the
nap he apparently needed. He and his dad hadn’t spoken much since that night in
the car after he told him about his mother. But they had a silent understanding
between the two of them that didn’t need many words. They were guys—there was
never a need to get mushy to know that they loved each other. And together, the
two of them were stronger because of what they’d dealt with in life. If he
needed to talk, he’d talk to his mom or his sister. If he needed silence, and
just another body to keep him from falling over emotionally, he’d find his dad.
That was how it worked in his family and he couldn’t have asked for any better
people to fill the positions.

* * *

She wasn’t asleep, but he
needed to leave, and the only way she knew how to get him to go was by acting
the part. David was the only reason she hadn’t given up though. He still needed
her, and now, they were going to need each other.

“Hi Dad,” she turned her head,
smiling up at him, feeling anything but happy. She was hurting—everywhere. But
the emotional pain in her heart was the worst pain of all. She had life
virtually stolen from her…how could she move on?

“Hey pumpkin, I thought you
were asleep?”

Turning away from his
questioning glance, she pointed her gaze towards the window. Eye contact was
hard with anyone anymore. She couldn’t stand to see the pity there. She didn’t
want to be pitied. She knew she was battered something fierce, and she knew
that would heal, but it was the looks she received when it came down to the
loss of her little bean.

But she was still there.
Alive. Breathing. Even if it hurt like hell to do even that some days now.

“No, I wasn’t. But David
needed to go. He needs to keep working. He needs normalcy.” It was on the tip
of her tongue to say
not me
, but what good would that do? She knew David
was in it for the long haul. And as much as she wanted to tell him to leave, to
say she needed her space from
everyone
to heal, she’d never be able to
do that. She loved David. Truthfully, he was the one thing in her life now that
kept her from falling completely off course.

“He’s a good boy. I’ve always
liked him.”

“And I’ve always
loved
him.” Her dad patted her hand and sat down on the bed next to her feet.

“Dad?”

“Yeah, sweetie?”

Her eyes welled with tears,
even as she tried to push them away. “I… I’m sorry for how awful I was that
night in the kitchen.”

“Abigail, I would’ve hated me
too.”

She shrugged, shutting her
eyes, a wasted attempt at keeping her tears away. The things were on a never
ending drip cycle anymore. She wanted to stop crying, but every time she
touched her stomach, or even moved the wrong way, she couldn’t help it. She
hurt…everywhere. “Never Dad. I could
never
hate you.” And then he was
there, hugging her, crying into her shoulder, apologizing again. With his
tears, he was healing, and so was she… slowly, little by little.

That reckless car had stolen
something from everyone, her especially. And as much as she wanted to continue
feeling sorry for herself, she knew she couldn’t keep it up. She had a duty
left here in life, even if it hurt to think about the loss. She was a
girlfriend, a daughter, a friend. And by freaking god she couldn’t let the bad
things steal away from her future of adding more good things to that list.

Wife… Mother…

She smiled into his shirt,
gripping him tighter in her arms. Yes… She would mourn, and then she would move
on, because she was Abigail Zane…

And that’s exactly what
Abigail Zane did best.