Twenty-Two

DESPITE HER RESOLVE to fight for them, Abby wavered between calling and giving Scott space.

At least he’d texted her again on Wednesday night, but by Friday, the lack of meaningful contact began wearing on her.

She worried that even as she’d committed completely to them, he’d changed his mind, but she still had enough residual anger left over from the previous weekend she convinced herself he at least owed it to her to say it to her face.

Gen leaned against her leg and rested her chin on Abby’s knee, then thumped her tail against the floor. She clearly missed her best friend.

“Yeah, I know. Quit worrying and call them, right?”

Gen wagged again.

Still, Abby hesitated. Living in the unsurety of whether Scott did or didn’t still want a relationship with her held its own weight, but hearing a definitive answer might be more than she could take.

Cara would say if this broke them, better to know, and at least she’d learned she had the capacity to love someone again.

Abby couldn’t be quite so sanguine about the possibility of having her barely-healed heart shattered. She’d rather hold the decision at arm’s length, treading softly and not risking outright rejection.

For how long, though? When would the risk of the worst answer outweigh the burden of uncertainty.

Abby bit her lip as she studied the phone in her hand. The screen lit up with a picture of Scott, Dylan, Gen, and herself, all grinning, the park playground where Dylan had fallen from the monkey bars in the background.

If not for his injury, they’d never have met.

Good things could come from devastating circumstances.

If Scott rejected her, she’d still have Gen. She’d still have Cara, and her work, and the dream of a therapy dog organization. She’d survive.

It may not be pretty, but she’d lived through a broken heart once before. She could do it again.

Swiping to Scott’s number, she held the phone to her ear.

“Abby, hey.” His breath heaved and a shriek of joy in the background reverberated through the phone, making Gen jump to her feet. “Dylan, buddy, hang on. It’s Abby.”

“Abby?” She couldn’t help but smile at Dylan’s voice. “Is she coming over tonight? Is she bringing Gen? We haven’t seen her all week.”

“Hang on, kid. Let me talk to her, okay? Why don’t you run upstairs and put away the laundry that’s been sitting on your bed since this morning?” Scott chuckled, then asked, “So, are you? Coming over?”

Abby rubbed Gen’s ear between her fingers. “I wasn’t sure if you wanted me to.”

Scott exhaled. “Listen, we need to talk, but I don’t blame you for what happened, and I’m not angry. At least, not at you.”

“Okay, if you’re sure...?” She wanted to fight for them, but would they want her?

“Absolutely sure. C’mon over and we’ll talk. I should have invited you sooner, but, well, I wanted this time with Dylan, you know?”

“Yeah, I get it. Okay, we’re on our way over.”

“Good.” And he said it in such an adamant tone she couldn’t help but believe him.

“Abby!” Dylan’s infectious joy surprised her. Greeting her first instead of Gen, he ran up and flung his arms around her waist, pressing his head to her stomach. “I missed you.”

Gen, whining, circled them both, then, as he let go of Abby, she jumped up, resting her front paws on his chest.

“Gen, off,” he commanded, then kneeled down to wrap his arms around her.

“Good job, Dylan. That was exactly right.”

His brilliant expression showed his pride, and Abby couldn’t help smiling in response.

As Dylan bounded off up the stairs, Gen close behind him, Abby turned to Scott. “I’m so sorry...”

“Abby, no,” he interrupted her, crossing the floor until he could wrap her up in a tight embrace.

“I should have called sooner. This was not your fault. I expected Lindsay to make trouble eventually, but I didn’t think it would be this soon.

Or that she’d choose quite so dramatic a reentry into our lives.

” He rolled his eyes. “I should have known better the first time she mentioned you.”

“Mentioned me?”

Scott raked a hand through his hair. “I guess Dylan talked a lot about you when he went to visit her this summer. She called me at training camp to complain. That was the day I was such a jerk on the phone.”

“Oh my gosh, Scott. I’m so sorry. I wish I’d known...”

“Would you quit apologizing for my ex-wife being awful?”

“Sorry.” She paused, grimaced. “I mean, umm, okay.”

“Anyway, I’d meant to talk to you before training camp started, but it never seemed like the right time.” He paused, frowning. “No, that’s not true. I didn’t want to ruin our time together by bringing up my marital baggage.”

Abby snorted. “As if I don’t have a matched set myself?”

“It’s different,” he said. “But I should have realized in July she’d have her sights set on you. Finn even warned me I should talk to you about it. But with one thing and another...” He shook his head.

Abby studied Scott, his shoulders slumped, head down, a frown pulling at the corners of his mouth. “Is this like with him? Like with meeting the team? You were scared if you told me I’d bolt?”

She hadn’t said anything, yet, about what Kelly had told her, but having caught on, she’d noticed how he’d been treading around her. Her words were abrupt—blunt, even—but they needed to be; otherwise, he might tiptoe around this, too.

Scott twitched and his eyes came up to meet hers, a sheepish expression stealing across his face. “Honestly? Yeah. Lindsay can be kind of a lot to deal with.”

Abby nodded. “I wish you’d told me, but I can understand why you didn’t. And I wish I’d gotten to meet your friends before I had to pick your best friend’s wife out of a crowd of WAGS at a home game.” She arched an eyebrow at him. “But I understand why you did that, too.”

“I didn’t want to scare you off.”

“I know. I get it, but can we stop, now? I trust you, I’m not running, even if I’m scared to death of some of those women and the way they looked at me. Even if Dylan’s mom shows up at my house every day for the next year. I love you, and I love him, and I’m not letting you go.”

“Okay, no more buffering, got it.”

“And you’re going to tell me more about your family, too.

” Abby leaned back in his embrace, making eye contact and ignoring the familiar shock of their crystalline depths.

They took her breath away every time. “I know they were a huge part of Dylan’s life before you moved back to Charleston, and they loved you enough to move to California when you left for college. I want to hear all about them.”

“Done.”

“Finn, too. Your friendship with him. Oh, and your sister. She’s in Montana, now, right?”

Scott laughed. “Whoa, easy there. I’ll tell you everything, I promise, but you have to tell me stuff, too.”

Abby froze, her throat closing over her words. “What stuff? Will...”

“Not Will,” Scott squeezed her arms. “I won’t ask you to share more unless you want to. But what about your family? Usually, only children are close with their parents, but you don’t talk about yours at all. I’ll tell you anything you want, but you have to share, too.”

Abby bit her lip, eyes dropping to the white plastic buttons on Scott’s shirt. Four tiny holes, with white thread in a crisscross pattern to hold them in place. The rough fabric against the tips of her fingers. The shriek of laughter from Dylan, upstairs, and Gen’s replying yap of excitement.

This conversation hadn’t gone quite the way she’d anticipated, but she wanted them in her life. She would fight.

Maybe it meant not only for them, but for herself, too. Maybe it meant fighting her own demons, until both of them could retire their emotional baggage, or at least get a matched set they could share.

Abby coughed, her throat aching as she forced words past the stone she couldn’t quite swallow. “Okay. Whatever you want to know, I’ll tell you.”

Scott pressed the tip of his finger under her chin until she raised her eyes to meet his again. Brushing a gentle kiss over her lips, he nodded. “Good.”