Can't Let Go - By Michelle Brewer Page 0,63

exactly what kind of guy Logan was.

He’d assumed wrong, though. And maybe, if Logan would have stuck around a bit longer—just maybe the older man would have seen it.

Both were guilty, in their own ways. Logan knew Martin was trying to atone for his mistake—and Logan knew that, like Martin, he should, too.

They continued on through lunch, talking about various different topics. The weather, Logan’s job, his years of schooling. Here and there, they would talk about the past—his past with Abby, Hayley and Blake. Logan could tell that Martin had heard little of this—but that he enjoyed the knowledge. The opportunity to know his daughter just a little bit better was one that Martin took with complete sincerity.

When they parted ways, Martin wished Logan happiness. Logan knew, of course—as did Martin—exactly what his happiness would rely on.

He found that he was unable to return to his office and so he wandered around the city, not seeing the beautiful buildings surrounding him—some he’d even contributed to the building of. He was lost among his thoughts, uncertain of what to do.

Abby was a big girl—she was fully capable of making her own decisions. And that would be exactly what she would tell him.

~*~

She stood in her bathroom, the morning of her wedding. She wore nothing but her underwear, staring into the mirror. She wasn’t sure how she had missed it before—a tiny bump now protruded from her normally flat stomach. It wouldn’t be obvious that she was pregnant for at least another month, she guessed—but she could tell now.

She had spent the last three days fluttering through the possibilities. At one point, she’d even been desperate enough to call her father—but he’d been out of town for the day, and when he’d returned, she had decided to keep it to herself for just a little longer.

Abby had no idea what to do.

If she admitted the truth—if she confessed to Eric her momentary lapse of fidelity, he would probably forgive her—if only to save face. The two could continue on with their marriage—their life.

She wasn’t so sure, though, that Eric would be willing to raise her child.

She wasn’t so sure she wanted him to.

But her options were limited—she’d run out of time. She couldn’t call the wedding off now—not after so much time and planning had gone into it, knowing that everyone would soon be gathering.

That was something that Hayley had been good at. Handling the crowd, making decisions. Not Abby, though. She was a people-pleaser. She always had been.

“Abigail?” Eric knocked on the door. “Jenny is here—they’re ready to take you to the church.”

“I’ll be right out,” she replied, staring into the mirror for just a moment longer before turning and slipping into the jeans and t-shirt she was wearing to the church.

“Do you have everything?”

“Most of it should already be at the church.” She told him, the tension in the room almost tangible. She hesitated for a long moment, contemplating confessing everything to him.

It would be so much easier if he would make the decision for her.

But instead, she stood there in silence, looking at the floor.

“Well, then. I guess I’ll see you in a few hours.” Eric told her as she passed by him. She noticed that he could hardly look at her, and not for the first time, she wondered if he already knew. He wasn’t stupid, by any means. It was his job to read people, and she was sure that she had been an open book the last few months.

“I’ll see you in a few hours.” She repeated, unable to really look at him.

Just as she reached the door, Abby stopped, looking back over her shoulder.

“Eric?”

“Yes, Abigail?”

“You’re sure you want to do this, right?”

“I’ve been sure since our third date. We make sense together. I know I’m not—what I mean to say is, I know that what we have isn’t a fairytale. But it could still have a happy ending.”

She noticed that love wasn’t even part of his argument. And shouldn’t it have been? Shouldn’t he have told her how much he loved her—how perfect they were for each other?

“I was just curious,” she finally replied, nodding her head.

“Better get going—don’t want to be late.” He urged, and Abby decided to say nothing more.

This is a mistake. She told herself, but she couldn’t stop it.

She let her feet carry her from the apartment and into the waiting limo. She let Jenny ramble on about her morning—about everything Abby was to expect for the rest of the