Cabin Glow: A New Adult and College Romance (The Billionaire Romance Redemption Series Book 3) (9 page)

“So what? Love isn’t one of those time-dependent things. Sometimes you just know.”

“True, I guess.”

“So?”

“So what?”

“So do you just know?”

Abby held her breath. “Yes. I love him.”

Trina hugged her. “Then hold on to that. Give him time. I read Andrew like a book the first night we met him.”

“And?”

“He’s kind and good. A little shy. Awfully tormented, but a great catch.”

“Okay.” Abby stood up. “Well, I’d better not keep that awesome catch waiting downstairs. I’ll probably be back again in a few weeks. I’ll pop by again, okay?”

“Sounds good,” Trina answered.

She walked with Abby to the elevator and waved goodbye when the doors closed. Abby had not intended to share as much as she did, but sharing left her more at ease. The big picture was she cared about Andrew. They could figure the rest out in time.

ANDREW knew he had to talk to her. As warm and kind as Abby was, he felt a subtle difference since the nightmare. Her behaviors and actions—and how she spoke to him after that—were muted, somehow. If he didn’t do something fast, he was certain he’d lose her.

He left his office to look for her. She was in the library, working on her laptop.

“Hey.”

“Hi Andrew,” she said, smiling as she looked up from her screen.

“Got a second?”

“Sure. What’s up?”

He stretched his arm out and took her hand. “We should talk. Let’s go in the living room out front.”

“Okay.” She closed the lid to put the laptop to sleep, and got up to follow him down the hall.

In the living room, he motioned for her to sit, and sat beside her on the sofa.

“So what’s up?” She asked, peering up at him with curious intensity.

He paused and turned to her, gathering his thoughts. “I’m sorry about last night.”

“Sorry? About what?”

“That nightmare I had. I didn’t want to alarm you. And I’m certain I did.”

“You don’t have to apologize.”

“Yes I do.”

“No. You don’t. People have dreams. Some are good; others, not so good.”

“True, but I think it was worse because I’m not sharing certain details with you.”

“What kind of details?”

“Things about my past.”

“We all have a past, Andrew.”

“I know. I’ve wanted to be more forthcoming, believe me, I have. I’m just not sure where to start, really.”

“Start from the beginning, or the end. Or wherever is easiest.”

“There’s no easy part of this.”

“Then share when you feel you can trust me.”

“I do trust you.”

“You think you do, Andrew. But deep down, you don’t. I’m not upset that you don’t. I’m not mad, or disappointed, or upset at all. We need time. It’s not something we’ve had. I’ll admit, I want to know everything about you. I want to share everything about myself with you. But that can’t happen overnight. It’s been seven days. We’ve got to give it time.”

“Are you sure?”

“I’m positive.” She looked pensive for a moment, and then continued. “Just promise me something.”

“Anything.”

“That’s dangerous, Andrew. Don’t promise me that. It’s too big. And no one can keep a promise of something as big as
anything.
”

“Okay. What then?”

“Promise me that if part of your dark past happens to come up in natural conversation, you won’t avoid sharing.”

“How do you mean?”

“I mean, just let it flow when it feels right, or when it comes up. I promise I won’t intentionally ask, but if it happens in conversation—and I won’t know because I still don’t know what
it
is—promise that you won’t shut me out, and that I won’t have to always watch what I say. Deal?”

He took a breath. He wasn’t sure he could keep that promise. But this conversation was a gateway to open the door. “Deal. Yes. I will do everything I can to be open.”

***

ANDREW was sweating bullets. It was time for her to fly back for the week, and although they had already made plans to see each other the following weekend, he didn’t think he could bear waiting a week before seeing her. The helicopter was waiting for her outside. He had decided to say his goodbye now so he wouldn’t have to fly back after she made it to San Francisco. Now, he wasn’t so sure. He straightened up when he saw her come to the front door with her bags.

“All set?” he asked, taking her luggage from her hands and reaching in for a kiss. She wrapped her arms around his waist. She clung to him. He loved it.

“Yes,” she answered. “Well, no. I wish I could stay, but duty calls.”

“Let me get this to the chopper. Be right back.” He took her things out to the waiting helicopter, nodded at the pilot, and placed them in the space behind her seat. He hurried back. He wasn’t ready to let her go, but she had commitments.

“Okay. Your bags are all good.” He took her in his arms again, soaking in her scent and her warmth one last time before she left. “And I understand. You know you’re always welcome to come and stay with me, right?”

“Yes. I do.” She looked up to him with a soft smile and saddened eyes.

“I’ll see you next weekend, right?”

“Definitely. And Andrew?”

“Yes?” He sensed she had questions—probably
the
question—but with her departure just minutes away, it was not something he could handle. Not now. It was like the wound had re-opened after his most recent nightmare, and was twice as painful. He looked at her, doing his best to just enjoy this last moment before they saw each other again. The thought of being grilled cast a shadow over it.

“Can I ask you something?” she asked.

There it was. The beginning of the inquisition. Maybe it was not, but to Andrew, it felt that way.

“Sure,” he said politely, hoping he was formal enough that she would keep it light and to a minimum. It was not the right time.

“Have you ever been in love, Andrew?”

“Can we…can we save this one?” He answered. “That’s a big one, Abby. And you’re leaving any minute now. I will sit with you and find a way to tell you everything, top to bottom, beginning to end, the next time I see you. I promise. For now, as you’re leaving so soon, why don’t we just not talk about it. Let’s enjoy the silence. I really enjoyed being with you.”

He felt like an idiot for saying the last couple of sentences the second it came out.

“Come on, Andrew.”

Oh no. She’s putting on the pressure. This is not good.

“I promise I’ll just be an ear. I won’t judge you. You can tell me.”

“Abby, please don’t,” he pleaded.

Her wide eyes and upturned curves of an approaching smile just about undid him. He wished he had made enough progress to share, but knew he had not. The pit that was forming in his stomach made him certain this conversation was not going to end well. And he wasn’t helping either.

“You know what I think?” She continued. “I think yes. You have been in love.”

“Um, yes, Abby,” he answered, hoping if he conceded to this first affirmation, he could maneuver out of the lion’s den. “But then, it ended. She’s not with us anymore. She died.”

“Are you uncomfortable telling me what happened to her?” she asked.

“Yes.”

Abby was snuggled up so close and feeling so warm, it killed him to cut her off. He knew it was just her curiosity and not any intentional torture, but it still felt like torture to him.

“Does it have anything to do with your scars?”

“Stop it. Please, stop it okay?” his voice now boomed and reverberated around the hallway.

She recoiled, taking a step backward, and had the most confused expression on her face; having seen this new, anxious side of him. It wasn’t a tone he ever wanted to use with anyone who was this special to him, but could not control it. He had to get her to stop. He stepped back slowly. He was on edge. Maybe some distance would be best. He wasn’t ready.

“Look. I’m sorry,” he said. “I’m so sorry, Abby. I think you should get going so you don’t miss you flight. Get home, and I’ll phone you tonight to see how you made it, okay?”

“It’s clear this is bothering you, Andrew,” she answered. “I’ll go now, but think about this. What if I have questions tomorrow? Or next week? We’ve all been through stuff. I would never judge your past. I just feel you may need to talk about it.”

“I do. But not now. Please try to understand.”

“I’m trying, Andrew. I feel there’s a wall you won’t ever let down for me to get closer.

His patience waned as his irritability grew. “If you’re so sure of that, how can’t you tell I’m not ready, Abby?”

She took another step back and turned to the door. That was it. He probably lost her.
Shit!

“You’re right,” she answered, reaching for the front door handle. “I can’t possibly know what you’ve been through or what exactly you’re feeling. Especially if you don’t tell me. Good night, Andrew.”

She slid outside with a determination that spoke more than words. Her farewell was so firm; so final to him.

“Abby, wait,” he called to her as she made it down the steps.

Andrew bounded down and chased after her, hoping he hadn’t done too much damage. She turned slowly and faced him when he pulled her arm to stop her. The joy and excitement in her eyes were replaced with confusion and disappointment. That look clamped up Andrew’s chest even more.

He stood staring into her eyes, struggling for words which never came to him. He was at a loss, pleading with his eyes for her to give him some time. Abby took his hand, and lowered her head to kiss it.

“Good night, Andrew,” she repeated. With that, she turned and stepped up into the chopper.

ABBY felt uneasy for the entire flight, but once she walked into her apartment, relief flooded over her. She was home. She locked the door and set down her bags. Ice cream. That’s what she needed. Or caramel. It wasn’t the solution, but it would do for once.

She could have gone for a run had she not gotten back so late in the evening. She decided to take a walk around her block to clear her mind. She grabbed her phone and keys, and left. She hadn’t gotten to the end of the block when the phone rang. It was Andrew. He had phoned when the driver was taking her bags to the car, so she didn’t take the call. He had also texted once and she replied that she would talk to him later. This time, she wanted to hear his voice. She stopped and took the call.

“Hi.”

“Hi Abby. Look. I’m so sorry. I was wrong. My tone was unacceptable.”

“It’s okay. You’ve been through a lot.”

“Don’t make excuses for me. How I acted was inexcusable. I wish…I wish I could look you in the eye for this apology. I wish I could take your hands in mine and show you how horrible I feel about hurting you.”

Abby couldn’t answer. Yes he did hurt her feelings, but the truth was he was hurting himself more. He was hurting their future. She wanted to tell him, but felt it would be better to say it face to face when she saw him next.

“What’s wrong?” he asked.

For some reason unknown to Abby herself, she choked up. “Nothing,” she whimpered. She brushed the tears off her face.

“Oh, God. Abby. Don’t cry. Please don’t cry. Not when I’m not there to stop your tears. I’m so sorry. This is all my fault.”

She sniffled, wiping the back of her hand under her nose. “I’ll be fine. I promise. It’s just a little emotion. Nothing to be afraid of.”

She heard her own small, quiet voice; so devoid of emotion. This was completely out of character. Now she was seriously concerned about where her reaction was coming from.

“Abby, it’s not little and I’m not afraid of it. I’ve been wrong all along. And you’ve been right. I should have told you. I could have told you. I was just…I was afraid I’d lose you. I see it now. I am ready to talk. I can fix this.”

“Not on the phone, Andrew. I can’t do this on the phone. Are you going to be in town this week?”

“Yes. I’ll come now if you want.”

“No,” she said quickly. Probably too quickly, but it had already come out so she couldn’t take it back. “It’s already late. Let’s have a few days. My placement starts tomorrow and I want to be able to focus in the morning. Let’s try for Wednesday after my seminar. Or Saturday. I can wait.”

“Well. Alright,” he conceded. “Abby, do you think you can forgive me? God, I’m so sorry. I was stupid.”

“Yes. It was just a misunderstanding, There’s nothing to forgive.”

“I wish I could see you right now.”

“Me too,” she answered. “Hey, I’ve got to go, okay? I’m taking a walk and I’ve got to head back.”

“Okay.”

“I’ll call you tomorrow. Have a good night, Andrew.”

“Good night, Abby.”

She pressed the end call button and turned to head back home. Their call wasn’t perfect, but she felt better. It might have been her tears too. She could use a good cry, and this was not a bad start.

As she walked in her front door, her phone rang again. She fished it out from the side pocket of her windbreaker.
Becky?
She hadn’t had a phone call from Becky in over a year. They had seen each other a few times when they were both over the Christmas break, but a phone call? This had to be something important, so she answered.

“Becky?”

“Hi Abby. Did I catch you at a bad time?”

“It’s not great, but I haven’t heard your voice over the phone for so long! What’s up? Everything okay out in DC?”

“Yes. I’m fine. Everything is great. I didn’t call about me.”

Abby’s stomach churned with worry. “What? Wait, is it Rob? Your parents? Is it my dad?”

“No, nothing like that, Abbs. Will you let me tell you or are you gonna keep guessing?”

Becky’s tone was friendly but impatient. Abby knew better. If she kept up the questions, her best friend Becky was liable to scream it out with zero censorship.

“Okay. Sorry. I’m a little on edge. I’m listening now.”

“First, I’m going to say I’m sorry. But keep listening. I’m sorry. First, for not staying in touch. I miss our friendship. Second, I’m sorry for being the one to have to tell you this. When Rob mentioned where you all stayed during the blizzard, and then told me the name of the man you stayed with, his name didn’t sink in until later.”

Abby’s heart sank. It was about Andrew. “Please just tell me, Becky. What is it about Andrew?”

“Will you wait? I want to get something out first. I am sorry. For one more thing. For being the bearer of this kind of horrific news. I feel like the other other woman.”

“You’re dating Andrew?”

“No. Not the other woman. The other other woman. That second other was intentional.”

Oh for crying out loud. Becky was turning into another Trina, with some new terminology that she expected Abby to know.

“What are you talking about, Becky?”

“The other other woman, you know? It’s the woman that tells the main woman about the other woman. It’s the worst woman of all. Because no one ever makes movies about the other other woman. No one writes about her in romance books. The other other woman is always shitty. And now I’m that other other woman. Fuck.”

Abby’s patience was wearing thin, and the pit in her stomach was now the size of a baseball. “Is Andrew with someone, Becky?”

“No no. He’s not.”

“Oh for heaven’s sake, Becky. What do you want to tell me? Just spit it out. Scream it out if you have to.”

“Andrew is a widower. But not the ordinary kind of widower. According to the news clips I found when I googled him—”

“You googled him, Becky? Oh good God.”

“Yes. Because I knew you never would. And because I’m still your best friend, no matter how distant I’ve been. Anyhow, the man’s a murderer according to the news coverage. Well, not precisely a murderer; the charges were dropped. But the media painted it as though he got off because of his family’s money. I sent you an email with some of the articles I pulled. Read it. Read it tonight. And be careful with Andrew Carrington, okay, Abbs?”

Abby couldn’t muster any words.

“Abbs? Are you there?”

She hung up and walked to her bedroom. As she climbed into bed, her phone rang again. It was Andrew. This time, she didn’t answer.