Unspoken - Sandi Lynn Page 0,31
it back together. I needed to try and clear my head, so I went to the one place that always seemed to help.
I stood in front of the large headstone and stared at it.
A Beautiful Angel
Abigail Marie Walker
February 10, 1982
May 2, 1991
Beloved Daughter and Sister
Forever Loved and Missed
After setting the flowers on her grave, I stood there with my hands tucked tightly in my pants pockets and spoke to her.
“I’ve gotten myself into a real mess, sis, and I don’t know what to do. I found someone who has changed my life and I’m afraid I’m going to lose her because of something I kept from her. I can only pray she forgives me when I tell her.”
Suddenly, and out of nowhere, a butterfly landed on her headstone. I stared at its vibrant blue color with black markings, and I knew Abigail was with me.
Butterflies were always her favorite. Her face would light up like a kid at Christmas every time we visited the butterfly house at the zoo. The memory of the week before she passed flooded my mind. She was in the hospital, and she begged me to take her outside. My parents left me with her while they went and had a meeting with the doctor. She’d been cooped up in that hospital bed for a week, so I got a wheelchair, helped her out of bed and wheeled her out to the courtyard that was filled with trees and beautiful flowers. It was a warm sunny day and as we sat there, a butterfly landed on her arm. She’d told me that butterflies were angels with wings and that the butterfly on her arm was watching over her. A tear fell down my cheek and I quickly wiped it away.
Walking up to the door of my parents’ house, I opened it and stepped inside. I could hear talking, and when I went up to the living area, I saw Kirsten sitting there with my parents.
“Henry.” My mother smiled as she stood up and gave me a hug. “We’re so excited for the good news.”
“What is she doing here?” I asked as I set down the file on the table.
“Son, have a seat,” my father spoke.
“No. I brought your files and now I’m leaving,” I scowled. “Just because Kirsten is pregnant, it doesn’t change anything.”
I walked out of the house and Kirsten came running after me.
“Henry, wait. Please.”
Against my better judgment, I stopped but refused to turn and look at her. She walked over and stood in front of me.
“I know this wasn’t planned, but it did happen. You’re going to be a father, and we need to work through it. This baby changes everything for us.” She placed her hand on her belly. “Our child is going to need both of us to raise him or her. We’re going to be a family.”
I shook my head at her, climbed into the limo and instructed Christian to take me to the office.
Chapter 21
Ellie
I was sitting in a café with my laptop when a woman walked over to me.
“Ellie Scott?” she signed.
“Yes.” A smile crossed my lips. “Can I help you?”
“May I sit down?”
“Of course.” I gestured to the seat across from me.
“I’m Lillian Walker, Henry’s mother,” she signed.
“Wow. It’s so nice to meet you. How did—”
“I wish I could say the same, but I can’t. I’m here because I want you to stay away from my son,” she signed.
“I’m sorry. I don’t understand.”
“Did my son tell you he’s going to be a father?”
I swallowed the lump in my throat as a sickness formed inside me.
“Excuse me?”
“I figured he didn’t. Did he tell you he was engaged to another woman when the two of you met?”
“No.” My body began to shake.
“Well, he was. He was engaged to a lovely woman named Kirsten, and out of nowhere, he broke off the engagement. I suspect that had something to do with you. Now that Kirsten is pregnant, Henry plans on doing the right thing.”
“The right thing?” I signed.
“Yes, darling. He is going to marry her, and they will raise their child together. I don’t want to hurt you. You seem like a very sweet girl. But it’s better you found out from me since Henry has been keeping secrets from you.”
The air around me felt constricted as tears sprung to my eyes.
“I know it’s hard, but you deserve someone better. Someone who won’t lie to you and always tell you the truth. Unfortunately, my son lacks that. I’m sorry we