Time flew by, and soon it was evening. He was looking forward to getting back to the refuge of the cottage. The phone rang as Andrew was almost ready to leave for the airport. At first, he wondered if it might be Abby. He looked at the phone. It was Rob. He was probably calling about his resume, or to do drinks again. Rob was a decent guy, and everything, but Andrew just did not have the heart to hang out with him tonight. It would probably remind him of Abby all over again. He let it go through to voicemail the first time, but when it rang again, he answered it.
“Hello?” He answered.
“Hey Andrew. It’s Rob. How’s it going?”
“I’m fine, Rob. How can I help you?”
“I’m just calling to see if you spoke to Abby recently.” Rob didn’t waste any time getting to the point.
“I have. She’s well, I believe. You should call her yourself.”
“I will. Look man, I won’t take up too much of your time. I just want to tell you I hope you two can work it out. I don’t know all the details, but my sister probably put her nose where it didn’t belong, and sent Abby a bunch of articles about your accident in New York. Becky was out of line, and I apologize if she did any damage. She sent them to me too, but I never noticed them until now. I want you to know, I don’t care about anything they say.”
“It doesn’t matter anymore,” Andrew answered. “I’m over it.”
“I’ve seen enough in the media to know they will spin anything and everything to try and make someone look bad. I’m not buying any of it. I’m smart enough to make up my own mind about the type of person you are. And I know Abby. She is way smarter than me. She’ll muddle through the bullshit, so you shouldn’t worry. You’re a standup guy, Andrew. And none of us will ever forget that about you. It’s pretty much all I wanted to say. If you’re in town again, I hope we can have dinner with the ladies…or hang out or something.”
“Thank you for saying that, Rob. That means a lot. Sure, let’s get together whenever I’m back in town. My car is waiting for me downstairs, Rob. Thanks again for the kind words. Talk to you later.”
“Later, man.”
Andrew hung up. So it was Rob’s sister who had sent the articles to Abby? God, how could I have been so wrong? All this time he thought Abby had looked up the information herself. It was probably still too late, bur he felt he should apologize. He would do it when he got back to the cottage. He would send her a text, or phone her. He had upset her enough in person. At least this way, there would be no hard feelings.
He got up and started to leave, and the phone rang again. Andrew almost didn’t answer it, thinking it was Rob again, until he noticed it was from his father.
“Hi Dad,” he answered.
“How are you doing, son?”
“I’m alright.”
“Where are you? I just stopped at the cottage to check in on you, but I see you’re not here.”
“I’m in San Francisco, Dad. I was helping Dr. Sansbury out a bit. Covering a few guest lectures for one of his professors on sabbatical.”
“Sounds great. I always thought Frank would be the one to get you out of Lake Tahoe, but even I was wrong.”
“What you mean, Dad?”
“Son, you’ve met someone, haven’t you?”
“I’m not sure what you mean.”
“Someone by the name of Abby?”
Andrew froze. “How do you know about her?”
“I’m sitting in the library right now. I’m looking at a note she must have written to you. I’m sorry for reading it, but it was laid out on the desk I use in here.”
“Oh. I didn’t realize... What does it say, Dad?”
“You haven’t read it yet? So I was right. You have had some folks over. The place feels different this time.”
“Yes, Dad. Abby and her friends were stranded when their car broke down during the snowstorm a few weeks back. The six of them stayed here with me for a few days. What does her note to say, Dad?”
“I’m not sure you want me to read this out loud, son. It’s very… personal.”
“You’ve already seen it, Dad. It’s okay with me. Please, tell me what it says.”
“Okay. Here goes, but don’t tell me I was snooping when I’m done.”
He cleared his throat.
Hi Andrew,
As I probably won’t see you for a week, I thought I would leave you this note, just in case you’re missing me. When my mom was still alive, she would leave little notes for me when I came home from school, if she and dad were still out doing errands or working the farm. I used to love those notes. I think I still have them in a box somewhere in my dad’s garage.
Anyway, this note is for you. I just want to tell you I’m looking forward to seeing you next weekend. I got so much work done in the library while I was here. I almost feel I’ll finish up my independent project early. This place, and being with you, well, it’s beginning to feel a lot like home.
Have fun this week, and try to stay busy. I’ll do the same, and will be thinking of you.
Love,
Abby.
PS. Get ready. There’s chili on the menu when I get back!
There was silence on both ends of the line for quite some time, until Mr. Carrington said, “This Abby sure sounds like a sweet young lady. Maybe you were right all along, staying put here at the cottage. Seems like the right woman came to you. I know Emma would be happy to see you move on, and finally have some new joy in your life.”
Andrew did not reply. He remained silent.
“Son? Are you still there?” His father finally asked.
Andrew couldn’t speak. He knew if he said a word, the floodgates would open. He managed a quick, shaky, “Thanks, Dad. I have to go now,” and hung up.
Andrew got dressed and left.
Chapter Fifteen
ABBY had a long day at work, made longer because she accepted overtime hours in the emergency ward. She was already a registered nurse, and the administrators loved her versatility—they probably also loved that she was single and willing to take on the hours with no notice, too. She had worked until after eleven at night. It had turned into a grueling sixteen hour shift. Her body was not used to it yet. Exhausted, she drove right home and parked her car.
It felt like her heart stopped. She saw Andrew’s limousine. What was he doing here? After he acted like such a jerk yesterday, she didn’t want to speak to him. She took her things from the back seat and locked up. She couldn’t bear to talk to him again, so she walked right past the limo, assuming he was inside. Shit! He was not. She walked to her front door and he was sitting on the steps, waiting there for her.
“Wasn’t yesterday humiliating enough, Andrew? What are you doing here?”
“Abby. I’m so sorry. If you’d give me one last chance, I’ll tell you everything, and then you can decide what you want to do.”
“I don’t think that’s a good idea,” she answered. “And you didn’t think it was a good idea yesterday, so why would it be a good idea today? What’s changed?”
“Please, do this for me. Just hear me out.”
“Can you tell me what changed? Why should I give you another chance, when I practically begged you to talk to me just yesterday, and you were so hurtful and cold?”
“Everything changed, Abby,” he answered. “I was a fool. I was wrong. Can we go inside and talk?”
She let out an exhausted breath. “You know it’s almost midnight, right? Please, just make this quick. I’ve been on my feet for sixteen hours. All I really want to do is sleep.”
“I don’t know if I can do this quickly, Abby. I need to tell you everything. I need you to hear it all tonight. I promise I’ll leave afterward. If you’d like, I can go get us some coffee to help you stay up?”
“Coffee is not going to do me any good. I’m really tired. I just want to go to bed. Are you sure you can’t wait until tomorrow morning?”
“No. I can’t. You deserve to know the truth. And I…I need to tell you now. I
’m tired of waiting. I’m tired of being afraid. I’m tired of holding out on you. And I don’t want to hurt you anymore. I’m here trying to make things right. Please hear me out. Please let me tell you everything, and when I’m done, I’ll leave. I promise.”
“Okay. Just come in. Say what you need to say.”
She unlocked the door and he followed her inside. Abby placed her things on the dining table in the dim light, and walked over to turn on the lights. As she turned to face him, she started crying. The longer she looked at him, the harder the tears fell. Soon she was sobbing. He stepped toward her and took her in his arms. She let him hold her. She just couldn’t return the embrace. She kept her arms hanging beside her. He seemed genuinely concerned, but she couldn’t trust her impressions of him anymore. Not after yesterday in the limo.
“Abby…I’m sorry,” he said, pressing her body into his. “I wasn’t prepared for this. For us. And yesterday, I was an idiot. I feel horrible. I was cold and insensitive. I thought letting you go was better for you. I never meant to hurt you.”
Abby stood limply, sobbing. She had no words to reply.
Chapter Sixteen
ANDREW sat in the armchair when Abby pulled away. She grabbed the box of tissues and sat on the sofa. He took a deep breath and looked at her as she wiped the tear stains from her face. It was as if he was seeing her for the first time. He was such a fool for walking away from her. Thankfully, she had ben gracious enough to give him this chance. He was not going to mess this up.
He started. “Emma was my wife, and she was so much more than that. She was my best friend, my med school partner in crime, my teenage crush, my first play date as a toddler. I didn’t know a life without Emma. Our parents moved in the same New York circles. We went all the way through kindergarten, elementary school and high school together. I was the one who would pull her pigtails in grade school.
“Our interests in medicine developed around the same time. We started dating in the last year of high school. By then, everyone had already paired us up, and assumed we’d end up together, as we spent all of our free time together. Her parents were excited she had chosen to do medicine. My parents, well, you know where my dad stood.
“We started university together, and got into med school the same year. We were married a week before we started our residency. We ended up at different hospitals as residents, but by then, we lived together and saw each other whenever we weren’t working. After our residency, we found work at the same hospital. I worked in the emergency ward, and she took a position in the hospital’s center for internal medicine.
“Our life together as a married couple was difficult with the hours, but we were best friends. Nothing could come between us—not the back-to-back-to-back 12-hour shifts at the hospital, not being on call, not the conflicting schedules—none of that changed what we had. For some reason, we started the path together, and I was certain we would be together forever. But I was wrong.
“One winter night, we happened to finish up a shift together. It was rare to get off at the same time. So rare, we agreed to leave her car at the hospital, and she drove home with me that night. A winter storm had started just before we left. Freezing rain and high winds—not a good combination for us as we drove home.
“Back when we were married, our parents had bought us a house on Long Island. It was a dream for them, to see us have somewhat of a normal life, given the schedules we had as doctors. We also had a condo just blocks from the hospital. Emma had suggested that we stay in the condo overnight, but I was looking forward to a weekend away. I convinced her we could make it to Long Island that night.
“When we crossed over into Long Island, the weather turned on us. The roads were sheets of ice in spots. I was driving at a snail’s pace to get us home in one piece. After what seemed like hours, we were five minutes away. All that stood between us and our house was one bridge.
“I took it very slowly. I knew the bridge had a tendency to ice up something awful. It was not too bad that night, but I was still careful. When we were about a third of way across, it was almost impossible to drive. We were slipping and sliding around. I had no control of the car. It was so bad, I coasted to a stop and searched the trunk for winter chains. It was freezing, but I got them on eventually.
“Finally back in the car, I drove off. I had made it halfway to the other side when I noticed a car coming from the opposite direction. It was weaving and swerving in the same way our car had been doing. I stopped again, because for a moment, it looked like the driver had no control. But then his car came to a stop. Or at least it seemed like it did. That was when I drove off again. By then, there was no time to stop, or swerve, or get out of its way.
“The vehicle hit us head on. I still think about that today. If I had not stopped to put on the chains, we might have avoided that driver completely. Emma would have had her seatbelt on and we might have gotten home safely. If we had stayed at the condo near the hospital, none of this would have happened.
“After the collision, I may have blacked out for a minute or two. When I came to, I looked beside me, and Emma was not there. She had been thrown from the vehicle. She must have taken off her seatbelt while I was putting on the chains. I tried to open my door, but something was wrong with my left arm. I managed to open it with my right arm and stumbled out of the car, trying to find Emma. I think I lost it when I saw her. Before I touched her, I went back to the car and call 911.
“I looked into the other driver’s car. It was a middle-aged man driving an old Chevy truck. Maybe the airbags failed, or it’s possible the truck predated airbags. There was so much blood, and the man’s head was lifeless, resting on the steering wheel, pressing on his horn.
“I ran over to Emma and dropped to my knees beside her. She had cuts and lacerations, and her arms and one leg lay in such a precarious position, I knew they were broken in multiple spots. I tried to give her CPR, but my left arm wouldn’t work. I ran back to the car to get some blankets from the trunk and covered her with them. She was lifeless. She would not move. I tried some more CPR with one hand, which was difficult. I saw a trail of blood trickle from her forehead. I think that’s when I froze. Something about it made me notice my own arm.
“While I was putting on the chains, I was sweating, so I had taken off my winter coat. After the collision, as I tried to tend to Emma, all I had on was hospital scrubs. My arm was bloody and mangled. It seemed to hang on by just the skin and a bit of flesh. Something about it made me unable to look away.
“I don’t know how long I had been looking at it, but when I finally looked up, the paramedics were there. A fire truck had arrived as well. First on scene asked me what had happened, but I believe I was in shock. I know I told him to take care of Emma, and that the man in the car was hurt badly.
“I was so out of it when I came out to from my haze. I had repeatedly screamed it was my fault; that I was to blame. The truth was, I felt it was my fault, because I stopped to put on the chains. I was the one who made the decision not to stay at the condo like Emma had suggested.
“Those decisions were my fault, and on my most objective days, I can admit the accident really was no one’s fault. If there was anyone to blame, it would have been the driver of the other vehicle. He had crossed the center line and hit us head on. But really, it was Mother Nature. A sad sequence of events. Unfortunate circumstance. Bad luck.
“We were all transported in separate ambulance vehicles back to the hospital where Emma and I worked. That was also a coincidence, I think, as it turned out to be closest to the accident. There must have been ambulance chasers on scene, because before we had made it to the hospital, several news outlets had already reported the accident. One outlet had video coverage of my outburst. It had me shouting it was my fault, and the headlines all quickly changed to something like ‘medical doctor and future billionaire heir kills two’; and ‘vehicular homicide in Long Island’.
“Of course, I was the only survivor. The police had come to
take my statement at the hospital. The timing was horrible. I just learned that Emma had died. And even then, I was saying I killed her, I killed her. Within a week, everything had been straightened out. It was confirmed the other driver had lost control. I was cleared. But during that week, there was one detective on a mission to destroy me. Or maybe it was the Carrington name. I don’t know. Maybe he just hated our family, or all people who had come from money. I still don’t know what his problem was.
“He was the one who suggested to the media that charges were going to be laid against me. He was one of the officers at the hospital. He had jumped the gun, but with the media frenzy, the damage had already been done. It was reported I was charged with vehicular homicide. For a short time, I believe it was true. My dad eventually got the lawyers on it. There was an apology from the NYPD. The District Attorney made a public statement that no charges had ever been laid. The news outlets retracted their stories, but it was too little too late.
“None of that mattered to me. None of it. All I cared about was Emma. Emma was gone. All the noise from the media, and the charges, and the police. That’s all it was. It was noise, far off in the distance, far away from me. I was still trying to come to terms with the fact that Emma was dead.
“My dad tried to help me. I remember my mother had phone once from Europe. Friends had phoned. My colleagues at work all tried to help me. I was referred to therapists, grief counsellors, and group counselling sessions. But it was too soon. The wounds were too fresh. I could not speak. I don’t believe I spoke during that time. If I did, it might have been screams from nightmares.
Cabin Fire: A New Adult and College Romance (The Billionaire Romance Redemption Series Book 4) Page 7