“Great. Okay. I’ll see you tomorrow then, Abs.”
I could hear the smile in his voice, and my heart nearly imploded in my chest. Swallowing the lump in my throat, I replied, “See you tomorrow, Bishop.”
After I hit End, Arabella nearly tackled me in a hug. “Oh my gosh! He invited you to spend Thanksgiving with him!” She pulled back and looked at me. “How do you feel about that?”
I looked down at the phone in my hand and then back to her. “I feel…surprised, but happy.”
Arabella let out a little squeal.
The agent cleared her throat, and I focused my attention on her. “I’ll take it,” I said.
“Wait, what?” Arabella took me by the arm and pulled me farther away from the agent. “Why would you rent this place, Abby? He said he should have kissed you! He invited you to spend Thanksgiving with him.”
“That doesn’t mean he’s going to open up his heart and ask me to move right in, Arabella. Besides, I think we need to do this slowly…if there’s going to be a this at all.”
Her shoulders slumped. “Ugh. I guess you’re right. I was getting ahead of myself there.”
Smiling, I pulled her to me for another quick hug. “Thank you for coming with me today and being such an amazing friend.”
“I wouldn’t want to be anywhere else.”
I drew in a deep breath as I juggled fresh flowers, cranberry sauce, and a dish of sweet potato soufflé while standing in front of Bishop’s door. I was trying to hit the doorbell with my hip when the door opened.
Bishop stood there with a crooked smile on his face, and butterflies danced wildly in my stomach.
“You always did try to make it in the least number of trips,” he said, reaching out to take something.
I let out a nervous laugh and handed him the sweet potatoes. “I’ve also got green bean casserole in the car and some homemade rolls my mom made for you. She knows how much you like them.”
His eyes darted to my car while he took the flowers from me as well. I followed him through the house and into the large gourmet kitchen. I was still so surprised that Bishop hadn’t changed a single thing since I’d left. The same furniture and rustic décor was in the house. I had almost forgotten how much I loved this place. The exposed wood and all of the river rock that had been built into the house made it feel so warm and inviting.
Once we were in the kitchen, I took it all in. It had always been one of my favorite rooms. The stove was against the wall and surrounded by rustic brick. Dark wood cabinets covered one side of the kitchen, with an oversized white island that broke up all the dark features. Large wood beams stood on either side of the island, holding up the loft that overlooked the great room. The open space itself looked over the great room on one side and the breakfast room on the other.
“You put these in water,” Bishop said. “I’ll go grab the rest of the stuff. Front seat or back?”
“Back. Where are the vases?”
As he headed back out, he said, “Same place you left them.”
His tone wasn’t angry, just matter of fact. I took off my coat and turned to head into the butler’s pantry off the kitchen. I veered and hung up my coat in the mudroom, then went back to the pantry. I opened the cabinet where I used to keep vases and, sure enough, they were all there.
Same place you left them.
An overwhelming sense of melancholy came over me, and I found myself fighting to hold back tears. Again. After a few deep breaths, I walked back into the kitchen and over to the sink in the middle of the island to fill up a vase.
“These rolls smell like heaven,” Bishop said when he appeared back in the kitchen. He set both dishes down, then walked over to the stove and stirred something.
I arranged the bouquet of flowers I had handpicked this morning in the greenhouse and turned to Bishop. “Where would you like these?”
He glanced at the flowers, then at me. “Do you want to eat in here or the formal dining room?”
I chewed on my lip. I’d never enjoyed sitting in the formal dining room. The breakfast nook off the kitchen was at the back of the house and had a wall of windows with a beautiful view. I’d always loved eating there. “How about in here?”
The corner of Bishop’s mouth twitched with a hidden smile. “Then we’ll eat in here.”
As I made my way to the table, I glanced to my right—and paused. I nearly dropped the vase of flowers when I saw what was outside the sliding doors that led to the back porch.
For years, I had begged Bishop to make me one of those wide sofa swings for the porch. The view of the trees and the mountains from the back of the house was one of the most beautiful spots on the farm, and the back porch had always been one of my favorite places to relax.
“Do you like it?” Bishop asked quietly, causing me to jump. It was then I noticed my hands were shaking.
“Let me take these,” he said, clearly noticing as well. He carefully placed the flowers in the middle of the table.
“It’s…it’s beautiful. The whole back porch is stunning.”
“Want to see it? We can step outside real quick.”
“I’d love to see it, yes.”
“Want your coat?” Bishop asked.
“No, I’m okay.”
He smiled and then walked over to the sliding doors. When he opened them, I stepped out and gasped. “The fireplace is gorgeous!” Nearly in the middle of the huge porch was a stunning rock fireplace.
I could see on his face that he was proud of it. “Thanks, I finished it this past summer.”
I took in everything. “Did you wall that part of the porch off?” I asked, nodding toward the side.
He slipped his hands into his jean pockets. “Yeah, I made a sleeping porch on the other side.”
I drew my brows in. “What’s a sleeping porch?”
“Just that. A place to sleep. I installed screens that you can lower. Do you remember that old white antique bed that was in my grandfather’s barn?”
I nodded.
“It’s on that side of the porch. That’s about all that’s out there though. Mom wanted to decorate the area but…” His voice trailed off. “I made the bed swing shortly after the divorce.” He shrugged. “I’m not sure why I did it.”
I walked over to it and ran my hand down one of the large ropes that held up the swing. “It’s lovely, Bishop.”
He nodded. “Maybe we can eat dessert back here. I’ll start a fire.”
“I’d like that.”
Bishop ran his fingers through his hair, and I fought the urge to reach out to him. “Let’s head back in before you get too cold,” he said.
All I could do was smile and nod as we made our way back into the house.
“Let me check on the turkey and the mashers,” Bishop said while I shut the door and followed him back into the kitchen.
“What do you want me to do?”
“If the rolls need heating, you can toss them in the other oven. I’ve already got it on warm.”
“I’ll put the soufflé in there as well. Is there room in the oven for the green beans? They’re still pretty warm though.”
Bishop laughed. “No room in this oven at all.”
After I put the rolls and soufflé in the warming oven, I looked at him. “What? That oven is huge, Bishop.”
He shrugged. “So is the thirty-pound turkey in there.”
My mouth fell open. “Thirty pounds? Who else is coming over?”
Sheepishly, he looked away as he answered. “No one. It was either that or a pork roast. I went with the turkey.”
This I need to see. Walking over to the oven, I opened it, brought my hand to my mouth, and then slammed the door as I tried not to laugh.
“It’s okay, you can laugh.”
I dropped my hand. “What time did you have to get up to put that thing in?”
Giving me a sarcastic look, he replied, “Early. It’s actually done, if that temperature thing is right.”
With a quick look at the temperature
of the turkey, I reached into a drawer and pulled out oven mitts. I shouldn’t have been surprised that they were in the same spot as well.
“It’s for sure done,” I said, pulling out the oven rack. I looked at Bishop. “I think this is one of those buddy-lift things.”
“Ha ha,” he said, slipping the mitts off my hands and putting them on his. “Back away and let me get this bad boy out.”
Bishop took out the turkey and placed it on the two hot plates he had waiting on the island.
“It smells heavenly!” I purred, drawing in a deep breath through my nose.
“My mom wasn’t very pleased when I called her last night in New York to ask how to make a turkey.”
“I bet,” I giggled.
We got to work in silence as we both moved around the kitchen and got everything ready for our little Thanksgiving lunch. In years past, we had never had to make a turkey—we were always going to my parents’ house or Bishop’s folks. Sometimes even over to the Larsons’ place.
Once everything was laid out on the island, Bishop handed me a plate. “You first.”
My stomach chose that moment to growl. Laughing, I replied, “Gladly.”
We each loaded up our plates with more food than we needed and made our way into the breakfast nook. We sat down and both started to eat without talking. I guessed neither of us really knew how or where to start.
Bishop spoke first. “So…how long are we going to sit here in silence?”
The food in my mouth suddenly felt dry as dirt. I forced myself to swallow, then set down my fork. “I’ve gone over this conversation a million times in my head, and I still don’t know where to start.”
Bishop wiped his mouth with his napkin. “How about starting with why you divorced me, Abby.”
I snapped my head up and our eyes met. “I didn’t want to divorce you.”
He let out a bark of laughter. “Funny, you’re the one who filed. I sat in the same courtroom you did.”
I set my napkin down next to my plate. “I begged you to talk to me before we went in, Bishop. I didn’t want to go through with it.”
“You could have spoken up in the courtroom.”
My voice cracked as I said, “You told me we didn’t have anything to talk about. I tried to tell my lawyer to stop the proceedings, but she said it was too late. I tried to approach your lawyer myself, and he told me I needed to go through my lawyer!”
Bishop frowned. “Your lawyer lied.”
I drew my head back. “Why would he lie?”
“Because you were getting a pretty penny in the divorce settlement, Abby, and he wanted his cut.”
I opened my mouth to speak, then pressed my lips together tightly and closed my eyes for a few moments. How could I have been so stupid?
I finally opened my eyes and met his. “I remember sitting there and just crying because I kept willing you to look at me. I thought, maybe if you looked at me, I could say something. Tell you I still loved you.”
Bishop slammed his hand on the table and I jumped. “Then why fucking leave me, Abby!?”
“I didn’t want to! But I couldn’t give you what you wanted, and that destroyed me. I was so lost and confused and didn’t know up from down, Bishop! I wasn’t thinking clearly at all!”
He glared at me. “You couldn’t give me you? Why? Was there someone else?”
I nearly choked on the air I sucked in. “No! There has never been anyone else.” I frowned, confused by his accusation. “I…I couldn’t give you a baby. I mean, at least at the time, I didn’t think I could try for another baby. I was so messed up in my head, Bishop, and I know I should have talked to you, but looking back…it was as if I wasn’t even in my own body.”
Something moved over Bishop’s face. It seemed like confusion, sadness, anger—then he looked as if he might be sick. “All I ever wanted was you. Only you. Yes, the loss of our baby gutted me, but the loss of you killed me.”
My chin trembled, and I covered my mouth with my hand to keep from bursting into tears.
Bishop closed his eyes and exhaled as he slowly shook his head. “Goddammit, Abby. I don’t want to fight with you.”
“Neither do I.”
He rubbed at the back of his neck. “I’m trying here.”
“And so am I. Do you think there isn’t a second that goes by that I don’t regret walking out that front door? That it doesn’t shred my heart every time I hear people talk about all the women you’ve been with?”
He jerked his head up.
“That’s all my fault. Mine, Bishop. I own up to all of it. I can’t change the past. The only thing I can do is try to explain to you why I left.”
Bishop looked down at his plate, and I could see his internal struggle. When his eyes finally met mine, there was a coldness in them. All the warmth and happiness from earlier was gone.
My entire body sagged, and I felt defeated. Would he ever be able to forgive me?
I opened my mouth to speak—and his doorbell rang.
We both turned and looked toward the foyer. Then Bishop’s eyes shot past me, and I knew he was looking at the security camera monitor.
“Fuck,” he said as he stood, dropping his napkin on the table. “Stay right here, Abby.”
With a nod, I watched him head across the house. Something told me not to turn around, but I did…and what I saw shattered what was left of my heart.
Jax and her daughter were standing at Bishop’s front door.
Bishop
Every muscle in my body ached from holding myself back. All I wanted to do was get up, round the table, and kiss Abby senseless. Fuck, a part of me just wanted to forget the last two years completely.
But that wasn’t going to happen, and I was tired of arguing. Tired of being mad all the time.
An ache formed in my neck, and I could feel my headache moving up the back of my head.
With a slow, deep breath in, I broke our eye contact so I could think for a moment. All that anger from the day I’d gotten the divorce papers and the stupid games…
Yeah, I may not have wanted to care, but I did. I fucking did, and I deserved to know why she left.
When I finally got my emotions pushed down, I met her gaze. Her entire body seemed to deflate, and she suddenly looked so tired. She started to speak, and then the damn doorbell rang. The surprise on her face clearly matched my own. Who in the hell would be at my door at noon on Thanksgiving?
Both of us looked toward the front of the house, and in that moment, I knew who it was.
Turning my head, I looked over Abby’s shoulder to the TV monitor that displayed the feeds from the security cameras. I had put up a few monitors throughout the house a couple of years ago so that Abby could see who was here if she was home alone and someone showed up unannounced.
My heart slammed in my chest and a rush of heat raced through my entire body.
I had totally forgotten that last week I’d invited Jax to bring Ashley by to roast marshmallows before they left to go back to Boston. Since we’d been getting more snow than normal, Jax had been called back to the city with the idea that she’d return in the spring to continue her research.
I stood and dropped my napkin on the table as I muttered, “Fuck.”
How in the hell was this going to work? I couldn’t hurt Ashley’s feelings, but what would Abby think if I invited them to stay?
Fuck. Fuck. Fuck.
“Stay right here, Abby.”
I hurried to the front door, praying Abby wouldn’t look at the security cameras. When I got to the door, I flung it open.
“Bishop!” Ashley dove forward and hugged my legs. “I’m so excited to roast marshmallows!”
My stomach twisted. I leaned down to kiss her on the head, then looked up at Jax. My smile faded. “I forgot you were coming.”
She looked past me and into the house. Her eyes widened in surprise, and I turned to see Abby standing there staring at us.
“I see that,” Jax replied.
&nbs
p; My mind spun trying to figure out a solution. “Let me grab my coat, and I can have Bryce start up a fire for you guys.”
Ashley tugged on my shirt. “Are you not roasting marshmallows with us, Bishop?”
The look of hurt in her eyes just about killed me, but I knew it would be nothing like the pain in Abby’s if I left.
“Hi!” Ashley said, looking behind me. “Who are you? You’re sure pretty!”
Abby softly chuckled as she stepped up next to me. “My name’s Abby.”
Ashely grinned up at her. “This is my mom, Jax.” Abby and Jax exchanged uncomfortable hellos. “Abby, are you making s’mores with us?” Ashley asked.
When I glanced at Jax, she was staring down at Ashley, clearly trying to come up with something to say.
“You know what, Ashley?” she said. “We’re not going to be able to do that after all. Let’s just say goodbye to Bishop and thank him for being so nice to us while we were here.”
Ashley let out a groan. “But you promised!”
“It’s fine,” Abby said as she smiled at Jax and Ashley. She forced herself to look at me. “I think we were done eating anyway. Go, enjoy yourself.”
I stared at her helplessly, seeing the hurt in her eyes. I swallowed the lump in my throat and tried to speak, but nothing would come out. She probably thought I had done this on purpose to hurt her. Ah fuck, I’ve messed this up.
“It’s okay, Bishop. We can finish the conversation later.” Abby turned and gave Ashley and Jax a fake-as-hell smile. It didn’t reach her eyes one bit. “It was nice to meet you both. Have fun, Ashley.”
And before I could say a word, she spun on her heels and made her way back into the house.
Turning to look at Ashley, I sighed, grabbed a jacket from the hall closet, and headed outside. Once we got off the front porch, Jax turned to face me.
“Are you sure she won’t mind?”
I stared at her with a stunned expression. It wasn’t what I had expected her to say, but then again, I had invited them and then forgotten about it.
“Jax, I’m really sorry.” I looked down at Ashley and crouched down to look her in the eyes. “You know the lady you just met? Abby?”
Ashley nodded. “She’s pretty.”
She's the One (Boggy Creek Valley Book 3) Page 17