Remembering he had a meeting with Professor Sansbury in the morning, he started the car, turned it around, intent on going back to the hotel. Somehow, he ended up in the parking lot at Abby’s place. If he had been looking to feel his heart race, it sure happened there. He could barely breathe, his hands shook, and his throat tightened.
He struggled to come up with what he could ever say to make up for how he had treated her. He didn’t dare go up to her door; not at this hour, and certainly not after cutting ties the way he had done. He sat in the car and looked toward her unit. All the lights were off. At least he didn’t cause her any loss of sleep. Sighing, he started the car and left.
Back in his room, he stood at the door and looked around. He tried to busy his mind, and not have it invaded by Abby. There was more space than he and his dad, or any of their guests would ever need. He looked at the baby grand piano in the corner of the living room. Neither he nor his dad played. He wondered why his father had the hotel keep it as part of the décor. He had no idea why he only just noticed it.
He walked to the fully stocked bar in the far corner of the room. He placed a glass on the counter and looked through the bar fridge. Whiskey could help. Except he hated drinking alone. He put the bottle back in the fridge without pouring a drop, and went back to his bedroom. He undressed to his boxers again and got into bed.
The sun blazed through the windows as Andrew woke up the next morning. He looked over at the clock. He had barely slept. He picked himself up and got in the shower. His meeting with Sansbury was scheduled for ten that morning, and his guest lecture was right after that. After getting dressed, he went down to the main floor of the hotel. He walked through the common areas, past the couples and businessmen sitting at the smaller hotel restaurant near the lobby.
He was early. Looking around, he found a seat near the quieter back window and waited. After a server took his coffee order, a young couple walked in from the patio outside, and approached him.
“Good morning, sir. Sorry to bother you, but would you mind taking a photo of my wife and me? We just got married.” the man said.
“Oh honey, that’s the first time you’ve called me your wife,” the woman purred before Andrew could answer. “It sounds so sweet.”
She reached up and kissed the man, and Andrew looked around, hoping a hostess or server—anyone—would come by and do the honors. No one came.
When they pulled from their kiss, the man seemed to remember why he was standing in front of Andrew’s table, and continued. “Sorry about that. So, can you take our photo out on the patio?”
“Certainly,” Andrew answered, and stood up to follow them outside.
The man passed Andrew his camera, and the couple stopped in between two planters, the sparkling San Francisco Bay behind them. They held each other close as they posed for Andrew to take the shot. Andrew fumbled with the camera briefly, then found the right setting and took a few shots. The couple thanked him repeatedly. He nodded and handed the camera back to the man before going inside.
He smiled as he sat down at his table. It was always this way. Disgustingly cute and romantic couples always managed to make their way to him for photos when he was down in this hotel lobby. If nothing else, the Gods had an odd, mocking sense of humor.
He was looking out at the water when Sansbury reached the table and put his hand on Andrew’s shoulder.
“Andrew, it’s great to see you, son,” he greeted him.
“Good morning, Dr. Sansbury. Nice to see you too.” Andrew stood up and shook his hand before they both sat down. “Would you like some breakfast?”
“I’ll have a coffee. I ate earlier this morning.”
“Sounds great.” Andrew waved at the server. She came over and got their orders. “So how has the feedback been?”
“On your lectures? Great so far.”
“Good to hear.”
“Thanks again for stepping in on such short notice.”
“Happy to help.”
“But that’s not why I’m here.”
“No?”
“Not a chance. This immune targeting research project is expanding. We need more talent on our team. I was hoping I could convince you to join me.”
Andrew hesitated. “I’m really honored for the invitation, Dr. Sansbury. The work sounds quite exciting. I just can’t make that kind of commitment. Not right now.” He looked away. He knew Sansbury read him like a book, so he didn’t bother lying. “I still don’t do too well when I’m away from the cottage.”
“You seem to be doing just fine.”
The server brought their coffees on a silver tray with milk, cream, sweeteners and sugar.
Andrew shrugged after the server left. “I’ve been here for two days and I’m heading back tonight. I can’t even last a week, otherwise I’d stay in town for the final lecture next Tuesday.”
“Are you sure I can’t refer you to someone?”
“You mean a therapist?” he said softly, even though no one else was in their section of the restaurant.
“Yes. I can get you someone who’s very discreet. She works with several of the faculty members. As a matter of fact, I believe she has quite a few doctors among her clientele.”
“I don’t think—”
“Don’t dismiss it yet,” he said, tilting his body slightly to reach into his pants pocket. “Here’s her card. Just think about it.”
“Thanks. I will.”
“Good, although I seriously doubt you’ll go.”
“You know me well, I guess.”
“Yes. And I hate seeing you stuck. Look, Andrew. I’ll tell you a story. A few years ago, one of my adjunct professors was driving back from a jet skiing trip down in Tijuana. He was with his three sons. It was late at night when they got home. And of all things, they walked right into a home invasion taking place at their house. William, my professor, was immediately shot in the abdomen. Thankfully, his three boys were behind him, and ran away to get help.
“The ambulance and police arrived within minutes. And William just barely survived, although now he needs dialysis. For almost three years, William refused to see a therapist. He returned to work within months of the incident. He and his three boys were still living in a hotel after it happened. When his performance at work began to deteriorate, we sent him to this therapist. We had to force him. But within six months he was back in his house.
“And today, even after all that therapy, he still walks into his house through the side door. He has never used his front door after that night. But he’s back home. And his boys are happier.
“Maybe that story isn’t as relevant as it seemed when I thought I’d share it with you. But what I will tell you is things may never be the same, but they can get better. After all this time since Emma left us, it can only help… Talking to someone is always better than keeping it to yourself. And we really need you on this project. You've got great talent. I need people with instinct. Let me just say this to you, Andrew. With nothing but love, because I see you as the son I never had. It’s time to claim your life and your soul…before you lose yourself. Please just think about it.”
“Thank you. I will.” Andrew looked at his watch. This conversation was more than he had bargained for. “I should be going. I’ve got a lecture to deliver. Thank you for the offer, and for coming by.”
Dr. Sansbury stood and shook his hand. “You take care of yourself, Andrew. And thanks for your help on the college lecture circuit. You’re a natural.”
Chapter 10
ANDREW got up to answer a call on his landline phone. It was the emergency chopper service. The paramedic who tended to John phoned to let them know John would be released in a day or two. He thanked him for the information and hung up. Andrew wasn’t sure whether he could make a visit to the hospital to see them. He had Trina’s number, so he decided to phone.
He dialed her number, and Trina answered after a couple of rings.
“Hello?”
“Hello is this Tri
na?”
“Yes. Andrew?”
“Hi. Yes. I heard the news about John. How’s he doing?”
“We’re doing great. So you heard? John’s coming home tomorrow!”
“Yes. The paramedic has been checking in on John’s status for me. I’m very happy for you two.
“Yeah were both really relieved.”
“Great. And is everything arranged with rehabilitation for the arm?”
“Yes it’s all been set up for us. We’ll be back home in Reno. The physio center’s close to where I live, so going regularly will be easy. And it’s all covered by his parents’ health insurance, so I think we’ll be fine.”
“That’s excellent. Tell John hello for me. I’m going to go now. And if there’s anything either of you need, you be sure to let me know, okay?”
“You’ve done so much for us. We can’t begin to thank you for everything, Andrew.”
“It was nothing. I was happy to help. Glad things are going well.”
“Andrew?” Trina called out to him. She was changing the subject. He hoped she wouldn’t bring up Abby.
“Yes?”
“Are you okay?”
“Yes, I’m fine.”
“I don’t want to meddle in your affairs, but I spoke to Abby. She’s confused. She misses you. I could tell from her voice before she told me anything. The same way I can tell from yours that something’s wrong now. And I won’t claim to give you any advice. I just hope you two can work it out. You’re both very special people. I’d love to see you both happy one day. Okay, that’s all I’m going to say. Thank you for listening, and thanks for everything, Andrew.”
“I appreciate that, Trina. You take care of yourself. Have a good night.”
Andrew hung up. He was happy for them. He was also relieved she cut it off and didn’t intrude into his private life any further. He knew she meant well. His mind shifted to Abby again. He wondered what she was doing right now. It was Friday. She was probably relaxing at home, or maybe she was out for a run. Or cooking. Or on a date. He let out a sigh and went back to finishing up some work in the office.
Andrew paced around the table in his office. He had some of his team members on speakerphone while they brainstormed on an upcoming promotion strategy. He listened more than he talked. He only interjected from time to time, adding his input where he felt the need. As he paced, he grabbed sheets of paper from his desk and crumpled them up. It was a nervous, subconscious action more than anything else.
He turned toward the trash can at the other corner of his office. He closed an eye and aimed for it as he listened. He shot it across the room and it landed in the can. He was clearly not engaged in this meeting. Abby was on his mind again. He wished things had been simpler. After another twenty minutes on the phone, he told his team to continue without him, and hung up. They were on the right track. These were highly skilled strategists, marketers, research analysts, retail analysts and business consultants. They really didn’t need him, and his mind wasn’t there.
He left the office and went out to sit on the back porch, thinking about what he could have done differently. He wished things had gone differently. He should have done something, anything to avoid getting to this point. There was only one person to blame for this. Still, he was mostly disappointed in himself. A mild resentment of Abby lingered as he thought about how she took steps to look into his past. Not that she was wrong in any way. He couldn’t hold that against her. He had not told her anything. It still bothered him, but not as much as it did when he charged out of her apartment that night. That was his responsibility. He was wrong. He wished he could fix things.
Deep down, though, it all seemed futile. Why would Abby want him now? Why would any woman want him now? He was damaged goods, with too many flaws and hang-ups. Holding on the hope that Abby could still want him, in spite of everything she had found online—well, it made no sense. Hope was useless.
He sat out on the porch, looking out until the sun went down. At least he had the sunsets.
Chapter 11
ABBY had given up. Another week went by and she had not heard from Andrew. It had been three weeks since she had seen him. She was tired of checking her phone, tired of the wasted anticipation, tired of wishing he would call. She was sick of the way her heart pounded when she stood at her doorway or window, hoping he would magically show up and pick up where they left off. She was exhausted from crying so many useless tears.
She got out of bed that morning to get ready for work, and decided it was time to let go of whatever hope she held on to. He was not going to come around. It was no use. It was over. When she got to the hospital that morning, Paul was leaving as she walked in through the staff entrance.
“Hi Abby,” he called to her. “Just starting your shift?”
“Hi. Yes. How were things overnight?”
“Not much worse than the last time you worked overtime.”
She nodded. “Well, busy can be good.”
“True,” he answered thoughtfully. “About that rain check, think I can trade it in for dinner?”
Abby was ready to let go of Andrew, but wasn’t sure she could embrace the thought of seeing someone new. Not yet. Paul seemed like a decent guy. He was handsome, fit, perhaps three or four years older than she was, and frequently the subject of several conversations among the female nurses since she started her placement.
Even so, she couldn’t deny it—her heart wasn’t in it. As attractive as Paul was, she was still numb. She couldn’t bring herself to tell him yes and then cancel—or worse, to go out with him and not enjoy herself. She looked up at him. It seemed like her hesitation was telling.
“Maybe I was a little forward…” Paul started, shifting his stance and looking away.
“No, not at all, Paul.” Abby stopped him. “I’m actually flattered you asked. I…I can’t say I have a better answer for you this time, though.”
“It’s okay,” he answered. “I get the sense there’s someone else.”
“Not exactly, but sort of.”
“Ahhhh, one of those ‘it’s complicated’ statuses, right?”
“Yes. Something like that. I’m sorry, Paul.”
“How about we leave it open? Maybe down the road, you’ll have worked out the complications, and it would just be a matter of a simple yes or no. I don’t mind waiting. And no matter what you choose, you should still come out with us on staff night.” He relaxed a little, and smiled. “It can be quite entertaining, watching your colleagues kill it on karaoke night.”
Abby smiled at the thought. “I won’t promise you yet, but it sounds like fun. I’ll try to come out with the group, one of these days. Thanks for understanding, Paul.”
“We’ve all been there. It’s no problem.”
“Thanks. Well, duty calls inside. Enjoy your time off.”
“Later, Abby.”
Abby turned and headed inside. Moving on. She had to do it sometime sooner or later. Before Andrew, she had not been in a relationship for well over a year. Yet she was happy. She would try to get back to feeling like herself again before going out with Paul, or anyone else for that matter. Right now, she could barely work up an appetite to eat, and she loved food. Her heart still had a gaping hole in the middle. Trying to feel something for someone new, it would be just that—trying. The effort sounded heavy, ominous and worrisome.
Maybe what she needed to do was send a goodbye text to Andrew. Maybe closure would help close the wound that sank to her gut whenever she thought about him. She could cry again, but she was at work. She had to put on a brave face and a good show. People needed her here, unlike Andrew. She resolved to send him a message when she got home after her shift.
As usual, the day flew by, and that night, when she settled into bed, she started crafting a short ‘it was great while it lasted’ message to Andrew. She felt good about it. It was short enough, honest enough, and not at all hateful. After all, she and her friends owed Andrew their lives. He was still the man w
ho carried her through the blizzard, opened up his home to them, saved John, and even helped them get back to Reno.
He was the only man who had looked at her the way every woman wants to be looked at. She couldn’t turn him into some jerk that mistreated her, not even if she tried. That was probably why it hurt so much. Andrew had cut off all communication, with no explanation. He hadn’t actually done anything to her. All the confusion surfaced again at the thought. It would be so much easier if he had just been an asshole.
As she was about to hit the send button, her phone rang. The timing couldn’t be worse.
“Becky?” She answered. “I didn’t expect you to call.”
“Hi Abby. How are you feeling?”
“I’m fine. You?” she said politely.
“Good…how did things go?”
“With what?”
“You know what I’m talking about, Abbs. Andrew Carrington.”
“I’m not in the mood to talk about it.”
“Come on. You sound down. I’m your best friend, remember?”
“A convenient best friend, maybe.”
“What do you mean by that?”
“Seriously, Becky? I’ve heard from you three times in the last year. We may have been best friends a long time ago. And I won’t ever forget how close we were, but we’re barely friends now.”
“Are you mad because of those articles I sent you?”
“You aren’t listening. You were out of line for sending those articles, but this conversation is not about Andrew. It’s about us. You and me.”
“How can you say I was out of line? I sent them to you to help.”
“It doesn’t matter, Becky. I haven’t read them. And they didn’t help. But can we get back to talking about you and me?”
“So what are you saying?” Rebecca persisted. “You prefer to be ignorant about the man you’re seeing?”
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