Page 46 of Hidden Vows (Love in Ashford Falls #3)

thirty-seven

JUDE

My eyes blink open and it takes me a few seconds to take in the numbers on the clock on Abbey’s nightstand, three in the morning. It takes me even longer to recognize that Abbey isn’t here.

It’s too early for her to be up, even with her hours prepping for the café, this is too early for her. I question if she ever came to bed last night, but the rumpled sheets answer that question—she was here, but for how long?

I slip from the bed and step into my boxers before moving to the door. The second I pull the door open I see her. She’s curled up in her reading nook surrounded by the box of journals I gave her last night.

I’d been a day away from asking Willie and Mae if they shipped the journals when they surprised me last night by walking through the door of Murphy’s. We’d talked a few times since I asked them to mail the journals, but they never gave away that they were planning to come for a visit.

Things had picked back up at Murphy’s since the bookstore opening and I’d been busy helping Jane behind the bar while Cole and Abbey helped on the floor—somewhere I honestly hadn’t expected to need extra help.

I found myself wondering many times over how the hell my dad managed to run this place on his own and not have a heart attack sooner.

It took Willie and Mae calling my name for me to look up and find them standing across from me.

Once it actually registered that I wasn’t imagining them, I rushed out from behind the bar and pulled the two of them into a hug.

I knew I missed them, hearing their voices always brought a wave of sadness over me, but seeing them in person?

It really brought home just how much I missed them.

Exactly like it’d been with Abbey in my dad’s hospital room, and just like it’d been when I finally got to talk to my dad again face-to-face.

They say distance makes the heart grow fonder, and while I believe that, distance also makes it easy to compartmentalize and forget the importance of being with the people you love.

Bringing myself back to the present, I carefully make my way to Abbey, not wanting to startle her.

“Mo ghrá,” I whisper, crouching in front of her.

“These journals aren’t going anywhere. You don’t have to read them all in one night.

” When she lifts her eyes to me, tears well in the corners. “Baby,” I plead, unable to see her cry.

I move to my knees, taking the space on the floor in front of her as I gently pull the journal from her hands and glance at the date, trying to figure out what journal she’s on—2015, the year I published my first book.

There were a lot of emotions coursing through me that year, the biggest one being guilt.

The guilt ate at me so much I avoided everyone I cared about—I literally flew to another country half-way around the world to make sure no one could be with me.

And I know the journal entries this year were some of my worst. I explored every negative emotion in the book and I beat myself up over and over for all the mistakes I’d made that led me to being alone—something I thought I more than deserved.

A sentence from the middle of the page she has open catches my eye and part of me regrets giving her these journals, but this isn’t who I am anymore, and it’s not how I feel either.

Looking back, I can see that night for what it really was—the start of the end for us.

Placing the journal on the floor next to me, I take her hands in mine, holding them tight in her lap. “Mo ghrá. You know most of this is the farthest thing from how I feel now. I’m the happiest I’ve ever been, and that’s all because of you.”

“I know,” she whispers, the simple words choked on a sob. She shakes her head before pulling her hands from mine, and there’s a moment of panic that maybe I shouldn’t have given her these journals, but she collapses into my chest and her entire body wracks with the force of her tears.

“Abbey,” I croak. Lifting her from the seat, I switch places with her, cradling her in my lap. I don’t try to talk to her, not right now, I hold her and sooth her as best I can while she calms down.

This woman’s heart is so big, feeling this pain for a man who doesn’t exist but in the pages of these journals, and it’s one of the things I love most about her—her empathy.

I know we went through some hard times before we made our way back to each other, but I’m so happy with where we ended up.

Giving her these journals was simply meant to help her learn about our time apart.

It was my way of proving just how much I love and trust her.

It was my hope that giving her these journals would help rebuild her trust in me.

I never wanted to cause her more pain.

“I just hate all the time we wasted,” she whispers once her tears have dried up.

“I know, love, but we can’t live in the past.” I press a kiss to the top of her head and tighten my arms around her. “We have the start of a beautiful life right here at our fingertips, and I want to keep building on that.”

She lifts her head to meet my eyes—they’re red and puffy, but she’s still my breathtaking Abbey. Her mouth opens and closes, but no words come out. I smooth a hand over her cheek, wiping at the tears that still wet her face, and give her whatever time she needs to organize her thoughts.

“We can accept that we wouldn’t change our past because it would change our future, and still be upset about everything we missed out on—two things can be true at the same time.”

“You’re right,” I admit.

She presses a light kiss to my lips before she nestles her head against my chest, and I know she’s listening to my heart beat in time with hers. I should probably pick her up and carry her back to bed, but I don’t move from where we are.

Abbey’s soft voice breaks the silence what feels like hours later, but is really only minutes. “Thank you for sharing these with me. For sharing all of you with me.”

“Mo ghrá,” I whisper. “You’ve always had all of me, and you always will.

” I shift, pulling her face from my chest to meet her eyes.

“But maybe you should take your time reading these,” I suggest. “It’s going to be years before I start being nicer to myself, and I can’t stand to see you cry—not over these.

” I gesture to the piles of journals around us.

“That might be a good idea,” she concedes, her eyes taking in the mess she’s made before her gaze comes back to me. “Are you still writing in a journal?”

“Yeah, I don’t really have a specific routine, but since I got home I’ve been journaling in the morning. I fit it in wherever I have time.” I shrug.

“Will you let me read your current one?” A sly smile forms on her lips, and I don’t even try to stop my laugh in response.

“Love, you can read absolutely everything I write whenever you want.”

“Including your next manuscript.” Her eyes sparkle and I melt into them.

I’d give her anything she asked for right now.

“Anything and everything, Abbey Selbey.”

Her smile beams before she presses a quick kiss to my lips, springing out of my lap and practically leaping to the kitchen island where I left my laptop.

“Mo ghrá.” I laugh, standing from the chair and taking the space behind her. “How about you start on that later. We’re meeting Willie and Mae for breakfast in four hours and you’ve barely gotten any sleep.”

“I’m not tired,” she says distractedly as she opens my computer.

“I can help with that,” I murmur against her neck, nipping at the skin below her ear.

“Hmm,” she hums, leaning her body into me. “You’re right, this will be here later.”

I don’t give her a chance to change her mind before she’s in my arms, my lips on hers in a heated kiss.

“I love you, Jude Murphy,” she murmurs against me as I lay her on the bed. “More and more with every passing day.”

“I love you too, Abbey Selbey. With everything that I am and everything I can be.”