Married 'til Monday

by Denise Hunter

  She’d slept fourteen hours! She peeled the damp rag from her arm where it had fallen and slid out of bed. Today she’d return to Summer Harbor, face her father, and start the charade that would probably be the death of her. She was entitled to a nice warm shower first.

  Ryan hadn’t slept so poorly in months, not since his team had made it to regionals. After leaving Abby he’d grabbed dinner from a vending machine and called PJ to congratulate her on her engagement.

  He’d checked on Abby twice and had to hold himself back from going a third time in the middle of the night. He didn’t want to risk waking her, or worse, freaking her out.

  She’d had the occasional migraine when they were together, but she’d never vomited. He could kick himself for the stress he’d caused yesterday. Bad enough she was stuck in a car with him, driving for so many miles. He had to go and run out of gas too.

  This wasn’t going well. All he was doing was giving her more reasons to hate him—and she seemed to have plenty of those already.

  Ryan snapped a leash on Boo’s collar and took her for a quick walk across the parking lot, where a lone tree stood in the middle of a vacant grassy lot. Apparently his ex-wife had a soft spot for tiny, yappy dogs that peed at the slightest upset. Ryan had to admit that Boo was kind of cute, though, with her tiny round eyes and pointy ears.

  The air was already warm, and his damp hair felt good on the back of his neck. He could use a good long run, but they were already behind schedule.

  He eyed Abby’s door as he waited for the dog to do her business. God, help her to feel better today. Help me not to blow it any more than I already have, and just . . . work all this out.

  Boo gave a shake and trotted to Ryan’s side. “All right, little girl. Let’s go get your mama some coffee.”

  Ten minutes later he stood outside Abby’s door and tapped lightly, in case she was still sleeping. When there was no answer, he slid the key into the slot and turned it, the plastic fob rattling against the handle.

  The door squawked as he pushed it open, juggling the coffee. It was dark compared to the bright light outdoors, and he tried to see if she was still in bed as he eased the door shut.

  A sound came from across the room. Boo took off, dragging her leash behind. Abby exited the bathroom in a swirl of steam, hair plastered to her head. A tiny white towel covered the bare necessities.

  She sucked in a breath, clutching her towel to her chest. “Ryan!”

  He spun around to face the door, scrubbing his jaw. “Sorry. Sorry. I thought—I didn’t want to wake you.”

  “Get out.”

  He set the coffee on the dresser. “Right. I’ll, ah, go check us out.”

  Ryan left the room, heading toward the office. He was just batting a thousand, wasn’t he? She probably thought he’d turned into a perv.

  He kicked a metal support beam, trying to shake the picture of her in that itty-bitty towel. He couldn’t unsee that.

  Truth be told, he didn’t want to. Abby was every inch a beautiful woman. A woman he’d once had claim to. A woman who’d sighed at his kiss, shivered at his touch.

  And within three years he’d managed to make her hate him.

  He was in a foul mood by the time he met up with her at the car. He squeezed inside and clicked on his belt. Boo crawled into his lap and curled into a ball. Ryan grabbed a doggie treat from the box, and Boo snapped it up eagerly.

  Maybe this whole thing had been one big mistake. Maybe it wasn’t God who had placed her in his path. Maybe she was better off without him. She seemed happy enough. Nice apartment, good job. She was doing just fine.

  He was the one who couldn’t seem to move on.

  They merged onto the highway, heading toward Maine. Toward what promised to be a very long and difficult weekend. Being with her only made him remember everything they’d had. Everything he’d lost.

  And come next Monday it was going to be like losing her all over again.

  Abby grabbed her cup from the holder. “Thank you for the coffee.”

  “You’re welcome.”

  “And for, you know, last night.”

  It was the least he could do, considering he was probably half the cause of her migraine. “Feeling better?” He hadn’t thought to ask when she was standing in a towel.

  “Yeah, headache’s gone.”

  At least there was that. Maybe he could refrain from being stupid today and spare her another migraine. Bad enough her father waited at the end of this long, painful trip.

  “Are you mad at me?” she asked.

  His gaze bounced off her. He ran his hand over his face. “No, I’m just—I’m sorry about this morning. About yesterday.” About the way he’d neglected her the last year of their marriage, about the way he’d made her feel guilty for every dime she spent, about the way he’d constantly minimized her feelings.

  “It’s fine. This morning was an accident—I overreacted.” She lifted a shoulder. “Not like you haven’t seen it all before, right?”

  And there was that picture he couldn’t unsee. It led to a few others stored in his memory bank before he could scrub them away. He was pretty sure Abby wouldn’t appreciate his little mental trip into the past.

  “Barring traffic, we should arrive in Summer Harbor around dinnertime.” Her hand fluttered before settling on the steering wheel. “I should probably call my mom.”

  “Are you nervous?”

  “Aren’t you?”

  “I mean about seeing your parents.”

  Her lips pressed together. “I’m used to it.”

  He wondered exactly what she was used to. The way her dad talked to her? Her mom’s failure to speak up for her? Maybe Bud had mellowed over the last few years. If he hadn’t, Ryan was going to have a full-time job keeping his mouth shut.

  Abby needed to get her mind off of last night. She kept reliving the way Ryan had taken care of her. The way he’d slid her under the covers, the way he’d brushed her hair off her forehead. He’d always loved her long curls. Couldn’t keep his hands out of them.

  She’d woken when he’d checked on her later, felt his fingertips graze her cheek. She’d pretended to be asleep, and he’d crept out within minutes. All she wanted was to get through this trip with her heart intact. Was that too much to ask?

  “We should probably get a game plan together,” Abby said a few miles down the road.

  “What kind of game plan?”

  “Like what we’ve been up to the last few years. Our jobs, your family, that kind of thing.”

  “Haven’t we already done that?”

  “Yeah, but we should—be more prepared.”

  “Okay, what do you want to know?”

  She tried to think like her mom. Remember the questions she’d asked last time they’d talked. There was one thing she always brought up.

  “She’ll want details,” Abby said.

  “About?”

  “I don’t know—stuff.”

  “Okay . . . let’s see.”

  He filled her in on his class, his football team, and what was going on in Chapel Springs—the new ferry, Madison and her husband’s win in the regatta, the old theater burning down. She memorized the names of her new “brothers-in-law” and her twin “nieces.”

  “Do your parents know you’re a PI?” he asked when he was finished.

  “Of course.”

  “And they believe such a company exists in Chapel Springs, Indiana?”

  Her face heated as she shrugged. “It’s never come up.”

  “Well, it might this weekend.”

  That wasn’t all that would come up. “Mom might ask about other things besides, you know, work and family.”

  “Like?”

  She shifted. Was it hot in here? She turned up the air. “Like us. Our relationship and stuff.”

  “Okay . . . what kind of stuff?”

  “I don’t know, just stuff.”

  “What are you getting at, Abby? Just say it.”

  “She might
ask when we’re starting a family.”

  She felt his gaze on her. Heat burned the base of her neck, prickled under her armpits. She didn’t want to talk about this any more than he did, but it was going to come up and they might as well be prepared.

  “She wouldn’t do that.”

  Abby gave a wry laugh. “She’s brought it up every time we’ve talked. She’s very eager for her first grandchild. I’m her only hope, you know.”

  Abby wasn’t sure why she was so eager. It wasn’t as if they lived in the same town, and Abby would rather jump off a cliff than expose any child of hers to her father.

  “I’m sorry,” he said softly. “I can’t believe she’d do that.”

  “She doesn’t mean to bring up a painful subject. She’s just—she doesn’t get it, that’s all.” Her mom loved her, Abby knew that. But Lillian Gifford had never had a problem broaching painful subjects with her. Not even the most painful ones.

  Chapter Nine

  TO SAY ABBY HAD BEEN RELUCTANT WHEN RYAN CAME into her life would be a gross understatement. But somehow the one date turned into a basketball game, and that had turned into another date and another.

  He hadn’t tried anything except the most innocent of touches, but even those . . . Abby’s heart pounded, and her thoughts scrambled. Only four dates in, and she was already in over her head.

  Kyle had never made her feel this way. He hadn’t opened her car door or pulled out her chair when she was sitting down. Ryan had an easy Midwestern charm and seemed to respect her in a way she was sure she didn’t deserve. But it was nice.

  Nice in an enjoy-it-while-it-lasts kind of way.

  She didn’t kid herself. A guy like Ryan could get any woman he wanted. Why he wanted her was a mystery, but somewhere between the third and fourth dates she decided just to enjoy it.

  Tonight he’d taken her to dinner. It was a mild spring evening, so they’d gone for a walk in a park near campus and sat on a bench, talking for over an hour. His hand, laced with hers, felt strong and sturdy, and she could hardly keep track of what he was saying about his last swim meet of the season.

  He’d been different. More serious. A little quiet. A nearby lamp kicked on as twilight fell, shedding a glow over his beautiful face. A shadow pooled in the cleft in his chin, in the hollows of his cheeks. She realized suddenly that he’d stopped talking.

  His eyes locked onto hers, and she nearly melted on the spot at the expression in them. Her heart thumped as he leaned forward and brushed her lips with his. Just once. She nearly whimpered as he drew away, hovering close, his breath a whisper against her lips, his brown eyes smoldering.

  It wasn’t enough. One kiss would never be enough with Ryan. She knew it right down to her bones.

  When he lowered his head again, she wanted to cry for joy. His kiss was soft but deliberate this time, stirring something so deep inside she ached with it. His hand settled against her cheek as he deepened the kiss. His woodsy smell enveloped her like the warmest hug, and his touch awakened a part of her she’d thought long dead.

  She’d had nice kisses before. She’d made out with Kyle at Lighthouse Point too many times to count. But it hadn’t been like this. So tender and achingly sweet and perfect. She was sure her heart was going to pop from her chest. By the time he drew away, she was breathless.

  A cold rain had started to fall, and as she stared into his chocolate brown eyes, she became aware it was heading toward a downpour. He pulled her up, draped his jacket over her, and they dashed to the car, laughter building as their clothes dampened under the sudden onslaught.

  It was the first of many kisses.

  They went out a few more times before they became exclusive. He told her he loved her just before the semester ended, and Abby felt herself sink deeper at his declaration.

  They weathered a summer apart, Ryan returning to Indiana and Abby staying in Boston for summer classes. She felt lost without him, and though they stayed in contact, her desperate need for him frightened her. Three months seemed like forever. What if he forgot about her? What if he got back with his high school sweetheart, Cassidy?

  But when he returned to campus in the fall, everything fell right back into place. They spent every spare moment together. He was perfect. Such a gentleman, and so patient. He told her he loved her regularly, and he hadn’t pressed her to return the declaration.

  She didn’t know what held her back. She knew she loved him. But verbalizing it made it real, made it scary. Every time the words formed, the ache in her throat choked them off.

  As the year rolled on, their feelings grew deeper, their kisses more passionate. Their hands wandered, their bodies demanding more and more, until one March morning they found themselves waking in his bed, their clothes discarded on the floor.

  Ryan knew she’d wanted to wait until marriage, and she thought he might feel guilty, though he hadn’t pushed her into anything she hadn’t wanted.

  Abby was busy with school and work and thoughts of their upcoming graduation and what would happen after. She didn’t notice when her time of the month came and went. It wasn’t until Chelsea was PMSing the following month that the thought even occurred.

  The results of the pregnancy test were a shattering blow. She had sat slumped on the dorm floor for an hour until Chelsea stumbled back into the room, too loud and oblivious to notice anything was wrong.

  Abby didn’t want to tell Ryan. She was sure it would be the end of everything. What young guy wanted to be tied down with a child the instant he graduated? They didn’t even have jobs lined up. Her dad wouldn’t let her move back home once he found out, despite what her mother might want. And Summer Harbor was too expensive for a single mother trying to make ends meet.

  Ryan could see that something was wrong, and he dragged it out of her the next weekend when he came over to study. One look at his worried eyes, and Abby had to tell him.

  “Ryan, I—I’m pregnant.” She couldn’t even look at him. He was going to be so mad.

  A pause as long and deep as the ocean filled the room until she felt like she was drowning in it.

  This was it. She was going to lose him. And it was that thought, not the thought of having a baby, that made her eyes burn. Why had she been so stupid? Why had she let things go so far? Her dad was right. She was a failure.

  “Look at me, Abby,” he said an eternity later.

  She shook her head, swallowed hard. She didn’t want to see what she knew was in his eyes. Disappointment. Anger. Frustration. Rejection. She didn’t know how she was going to go on without him. She’d become dependent on him emotionally. Why had she let that happen?

  She didn’t know how she was going to support herself, much less a baby. She was ill equipped for this. What if she was a bad mom? What if she treated this baby the way her dad treated her? Her lungs felt too small, too tight, to take in the air she needed.

  Ryan’s fingers tipped her chin until her eyes met his. Her lip quivered, and she bit the inside of it hard.

  His eyes bore into hers. “I love you, Red. It’s going to be okay.”

  She was shaking when he took her into his arms. He held her until she fell asleep, whispering words of comfort.

  A week later they walked to the park. They hadn’t talked much about what they were going to do, but she was sure that Ryan, like her, was thinking of little else. Maybe he’d changed his mind. Maybe after it all sank in he’d realized what a baby would mean, and he planned to slip quietly out of her life.

  But that night at the park he got down on one knee, offering her a beautiful ring (which she found out later he’d sold his signed Peyton Manning football to purchase) and a lifetime together. She couldn’t believe he wanted to marry her. She didn’t have to think twice.

  And for a while everything seemed perfect. Maybe not ideal. It was going to be hard, and there were so many unknowns. But Ryan loved her, and they were going to be a family. For once she let herself believe it would all work out.

  Just before graduation
she told her parents about the baby and the upcoming wedding, and they reacted as she’d expected. It was a surprise when they showed up at the small ceremony in June in Chapel Springs.

  Ryan’s family was supportive, welcoming her into the family despite the circumstances. They found jobs quickly—Ryan taking a summer job at the Candlelight Café and Abby an entry-level position at the Chapel Springs Gazette. It was enough to afford a two-bedroom apartment on the outskirts of town.

  Abby settled into their little nest, feeling better than she’d ever felt. The pregnancy hadn’t come with the usual symptoms. Instead of feeling drained and tired, she had energy. Maybe it had something to do with Ryan. With the way he laid his hand over her still-flat stomach while they were lying in bed or the way he brought home the tiramisu she seemed to be craving all the time.

  She was on her way to work when the first stabbing pain hit. Spotting followed. She called Ryan, who urged her to call the doctor. An ultrasound later that day showed what she’d feared. She’d lost the baby.

  When she returned home from the hospital a few days later, she sank into a depression. Everyone said it was normal. Ryan held her at night, his eyes bloodshot from the tears he’d cried for both of them.

  At some point he’d closed the nursery door, and it had remained that way. She didn’t have the heart to look in there again and see the space, as empty as her womb, or the pale yellow walls or the stuffed bear he’d bought shortly after they married.

  She threw herself into work, wishing it were more than part-time because it wasn’t enough to keep her thoughts from dragging her under. To keep her from the one dark thought that kept rising to the surface.

  What was holding Ryan to her now?

  Chapter Ten

  ABBY TIGHTENED HER GRIP ON THE STEERING WHEEL AS she turned onto the final road leading to Summer Harbor. The sun was setting behind the evergreen trees, and the sky was swathed in pinks and purples.

  “This place isn’t easy to find,” Ryan said. “I haven’t seen any signs or anything.”