Can't Let Go - By Michelle Brewer Page 0,59

back, although not a day went by that she didn’t wonder what would have happened if she had stayed. What if he couldn’t forgive her?

Still, she owed it to him—and to her child—to at least give him the opportunity to be involved.

Her breathing picked up as she stared at the phone, her heart pounding as she contemplated making the call.

But she couldn’t bring herself to do it.

What would she even say to him? “Oh, hey, Logan. I stole your number out of Hayley’s phone book—and it’s a good thing I did, because I’m pregnant, and you’re going to be a father!”

Right. That would go over well.

And what about Eric?

She was meant to be married in less than three days. Married to a man who didn’t want children—who definitely didn’t want children now.

Wasn’t it an easy decision to make?

Chapter Eleven

Logan was standing near his desk, supposedly packing up what few belongings of his remained in the office, but really, he was daydreaming. Imagining the life he should have waiting for him—the one he should be starting. She was there, of course—Abigail Lewis was always there, always his future.

Even though she wasn’t even a part of his present.

He couldn’t help it, though. He knew he couldn’t be angry with her for leaving—well, not really, anyway. He should have known she would run. She’d told him that she didn’t love him—who was he to question that?

Maybe she was right—maybe he didn’t know her at all.

He thought back to that night, not so long ago. Sure, she had been drinking—but he’d seen life in her eyes. He had recognized something there—something he couldn’t have possibly mistook for something else.

She still cared about him.

He remembered his plane landing, and the first thing he had done was to check on her flight. He’d rented a room and then went to her gate, waiting anxiously for even just a glimpse of her. He hadn’t planned on speaking to her—really, all he’d wanted was to make sure she was okay.

But as he’d watched her emerge from the boarding bridge, her eyes panicked as she searched around, he couldn’t move. The crowd had parted, as if everything had fallen together just to create that moment. And when her eyes had finally found his, her shoulders had relaxed and the fear he’d seen written all over her had simply…vanished.

She was relieved to see him.

He had taken it as a sign—that despite whatever she had said before, she did care about him. The evidence had been written all over her face.

After they had parted ways, he’d taken a seat along the wall, watching her as she walked through the airport. When she’d finally settled down at the bar, he couldn’t resist getting closer. Couldn’t resist the temptation to slip back in time, throwing back drinks and enjoying themselves. He hadn’t meant for it to go so far.

Logan sighed, running his hand through his hair, shaking his head.

Not that he regretted it.

He only regretted the position he had put her in. What was she supposed to do? She was engaged to another man. She’d given him her word.

Logan couldn’t help but wonder why, if she was really happy in her relationship, though—why had she felt the need to spend the night with him?

Maybe all she had needed was one more night to find closure, he told himself. He remembered how she had told him that, after he left her, she had waited for him to come back. Maybe, deep down, all she needed was to drive the final nail into the coffin.

Maybe she would be happy now.

He sighed again, deciding to push the thoughts from his mind. He’d spent way too much time thinking about this over the last three months—it was time to accept the way things were. Abby had left, and she wasn’t coming back.

It was time to move on with his life.

He heard a phone ringing in the distance and he crossed the room to the door, trying to tell the secretary that he wasn’t in. But the woman ignored him. “Mr. Sheppard—”

“I’m not in the office, Jean—”

“But Mr. Sheppard—it’s a personal call. You told me that if anyone by the name of Lewis—” He didn’t give the woman a chance to finish before he spun around and hurried back into his office, certain to close the door behind him.

It couldn’t be her—could it? What were the odds that she was thinking about him at this very moment—the very moment he had decided to let her go? He reached