Can't Let Go - By Michelle Brewer Page 0,7

lifetime, and she’d returned it—perhaps with a desire even stronger than his own. And he’d made love to her, telling himself to remember it all—to take care to make it memorable for her. He knew she would think him selfish once she woke, and maybe she would be right. Maybe coming back had been selfish.

But he had to see her one last time.

He quietly left the bed, careful not to wake her as he slipped out from beneath her sleeping form. She stirred slightly and he paused, not wanting to wake her but also unable to turn away. She was the best thing he’d ever have in his life—of that he was sure.

He hadn’t brought much with him, so there wasn’t much to pack. But he did so quickly and quietly, pausing briefly to scribble a note before turning and taking her in once more.

She looked like an angel—the sun glimmering off her golden hair, her expression one of peace, surrounded by billowing white sheets and pillows.

Goodbye, my dear Abby. May you find happiness with someone who is more deserving than myself.

Chapter One

Six years later.

Abigail Lewis walked into the building that housed the magazine she worked for, slightly distracted. It had been a hectic morning—from waking up a bit late to getting stuck in the usual L.A. traffic, nothing had gone right. And to top things off, she sighed with irritation, she’d just missed the elevator. She did her best not to groan aloud as she stepped forward and stabbed at the button.

To make things even worse, she knew there was a pile of articles sitting at her desk waiting to be checked over and edited. The beginnings of a headache already stirred and she rubbed at her temples, hoping to avoid it. Not for the first time, she wished she could be the type of person who enjoyed caffeine. She would really benefit from some sort of large caffeinated beverage right about now.

The elevator dinged in front of her and she tried not to tap her foot anxiously as waited for the doors to open, instead taking a moment to look around the lobby. A few Easter decorations still adorned the walls—flowers and pastel colored ribbons, nothing at all gaudy or distasteful in Abby’s eyes. But she’d already complained to the maintenance office about it, as her boss had ordered the Monday following the holiday

Ingrid was not going to be happy about this.

Abby sighed again. It was going to be a very long day, she could already tell.

The doors opened and she hurried inside, pushing the button and stepping backward, beginning to prepare herself for the day to follow. Abby was—for all practical purposes—the chief editor of the popular gossip magazine Rumor. It was true that she was technically more like an assistant to the actual chief editor, but in all realities, she did all of the work. It was Abby that everyone went to for final approval, her boss far too busy maintaining her image in the celebrity world to really run the magazine.

And with this week’s deadline quickly approaching, she knew she was going to be in for many long—and, really, uncredited, hours. Because for all the work she did, she barely received any recognition.

But wasn’t that the way of the magazine world?

With another heavy sigh, Abby stepped out of the elevator and began to make her way toward her desk. Though she’d been with the company for going on three years now, the last of which she’d been given much more responsibility, she still hadn’t received her own office. It was only the first of many complaints she had.

As soon as she settled at her desk, she was approached by several of the novice workers with questions regarding the layout of the magazine or specifics about certain articles. Abby handled each question calmly and without hesitation—taking charge as she’d learned to do. People were grateful for her—she knew. Working with her boss, Ingrid, was a difficult task. Even just thinking about their random weekly meetings filled her with dread.

She did not look forward to the hour long sessions, during which Abby would brief Ingrid on everything that was being planned and laid out. Ingrid would bark directions and criticisms left and right, though never once did she offer to actually do her own job.

It was, without a doubt, Abby’s least favorite part of the day.

When her co-workers had finally settled into their own assigned tasks, Abby took a deep breath, trying to calm herself before the