Scandalous 2 Page 0,42

together. I wish I'd told you back then. It would have made things easier."

"Abby, I had no idea," he says, looking up into my eyes. There's such remorse on his face that I want to cry with him.

"Of course not. I hid it. I did what my mother told me to do. Look the other way. Pretend it's not happening. My dad was a 'good man,' besides that. She didn't want to ruin him because he had a temper. Sometimes I just wished she would have tried to protect me. She didn't lift a finger. She never said a word." My eyes take on a vacant stare. "She died because of it. Ignoring things doesn't work. Maybe that's why I confront everything. Maybe it's reactionary, but I can't help it. I fix what I can. I try to live a good life. Sometimes I mess up. Other times," I say, shrugging, "I get lucky." I smile sadly at Jack. He's stopped painting and stands and looks at me.

Jack lifts his hands. They hover next to my cheeks, like he wants to hold me. He laughs bitterly. "I can't touch now."

"It's all right, Jack. I never thought I'd tell anyone that. There isn't really a point anymore. He's dead. I'm not. There's a hollow place inside of me that's almost relieved that he's gone. I'm a horrible person for feeling that way, but I can't help it."

Jack's fingers twitch by my face. He presses his hands to the sides of my head and pulls me to his lips. He kisses me gently. When he breaks the kiss I feel like I can breathe again. It's like Jack has restored a part of me that had died. "You are the best person I know. You don't have to feel guilty anymore, Abby. Dads are supposed to make their daughters feel safe. He took that away from you. You have every right to feel however you feel. I wish I could have been there for you." He pauses, his eyes falling to the floor like he's remembering something. When he looks back up, I can tell he remembers. "Oh God. The bike accident? The skis? All of it was him, wasn't it?" Fear wells up inside of me. I hear my mother's voice telling me not to condemn him for one fault. I stare at Jack blankly. I've been conditioned not to answer, and even though I'm grown and my parents are both gone, I still carry the scars. "Abby," he breathes my name. His blue eyes pierce into me and tears begin to roll down my cheeks. They ruin his paint, streaking it.

He takes me in his arms and holds me, smearing paint on his clothes.

There was never a time when I dreamed that I'd tell someone that. It shames me to my core. I feel like it's my fault even though I've learned that it isn't. Jack holds me tight and I wish I'd told him sooner.

Chapter 24

JACK

As his brush slips over her skin, Jack hears Abby's voice stick inside her throat. All these years and he never knew. That night, at their prom, Jack was with some other girl. When he cornered Abby after seeing that cut on her cheek, he knew what it was because he'd had a fist to the face a few times. He remembers the way she smiled, like nothing was wrong. Abby looked him in the eye that night and swore up and down that it was something stupid - a curling iron. But her face wasn't burned. In the dark room, it was difficult to read her eyes. That was something that Jack was very proud of. He could look at Abby and know if she was telling him the truth. They finished each other's sentences. But that night, he ignored what was in front of him, and then a few weeks later, he'd fuck it up so badly that Abby would disappear for ten years.

Jack stands and looks into her eyes. He can't act like it doesn't hurt her because he knows damn well that it does. Her voice shakes as she speaks, but her tone is too level, too apathetic. When she talks about her mother, Jack can't stand it. How did he miss it? How didn't he see? All those years when the two of them were out late, why didn't it dawn on him that she didn't want to go home?

He watches her for a moment, uncertain of how to