My Only Wish (14 page)

Read My Only Wish Online

Authors: Anna Robbins

BOOK: My Only Wish
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The thought and feelings moved through him swiftly. Their time in New York had been magical. With her at his side, he had enjoyed everything so much more, had experienced it all more potently, because she was as well.

And he wanted that. For the rest of his life.

Would she think he was insane? Regardless of the speed in which it had happened, he knew that she felt something for him. Felt something much stronger than what time would have normally allowed.

But was it enough?

He didn’t want to push her. But it would be hard holding himself back from steering her toward what he wanted.

Whenever he had a goal, he worked toward it, pursued it with a single mindedness that left others speechless. But he wouldn’t force her into this.

But that didn’t mean he couldn’t help her along in her feelings.

“So, who is he, Abby?”

Sitting in the old room in her parents’ house, Abby turned to her mother with a warm smile. “Just a guy.”

“Just a guy?” He mother looked doubtfully as she walked into the room.

“All right. He might be just a bit more than that.” Abby laughed softly. “I’m in love with him.”

“Oh, darling, that’s wonderful.” Her mother sat next to her on the bed, wrapping her soft arms around Abby. It was a feeling she had enjoyed all her life. Her mother’s comfort. Taking in her mother’s scent, apples and vanilla, she marveled that it never changed. “I’m even more excited to meet him tonight. I’m sure your father will be as well.”

“Mom, it isn’t serious yet. I don’t want you to make a big deal out of it. He doesn’t know how I feel.”

“You haven’t told him? Why not?”

“It’s too soon. We’ve only been together a month.”

“Sometimes time doesn’t matter. I know it didn’t with your father and me. Sometimes we just know.” Her mother’s lips quirked, and Abby couldn’t help but notice some of the attributes they shared. Her mother’s blonde hair was a lighter shade, now mixed with gray, but Abby knew it had once been identical to her own. Their noses were the same, along with their cupid bow mouth.
 
But there were plenty of differences as well. And seeing them, she didn’t think she had ever seen anyone more beautiful or content.

“I know. I just don’t want to scare him off.”

“Why do you think you would?”

Abby shrugged, moving to stand in front of her mirror, buying herself time. She had already dressed for the party though it wouldn’t start for another couple hours. The midnight blue fabric was iridescent and would shine like blue fire in the twinkle lights. It was simple, with thick straps at her shoulders, draping the fabric to mid-thigh. The black velvet ribbon under her bust was the only embellishment, drawing the eye to the plunging neckline. She hoped Dylan would like it.

“You look beautiful tonight. That color suits you,” her mother said, drawing Abby’s attention. “Now, why would you think that?”

“He just doesn’t seem like the commitment type. I went into this relationship determined to keep it light, to keep it fun.”

“And commitments aren’t fun?”

“No. Well, yes. But I can imagine they aren’t for everyone.”

“And you don’t think Dylan wants one?”

“He hasn’t said anything about it.” Abby sat next to her mother again, the four poster bed sinking under her weight. “I don’t want to push it.”

“I understand.” She patted Abby’s cheek. “Don’t worry too much about it. Everything will work out in the end.”

She took a deep breath before releasing it slowly. “I hope so.”

“I know so.” Her mother rose, walking to the door before swinging around again. “I almost forgot. I came up here to tell you that a package arrived for you.”

“Who’s it from?”

“I don’t know. There’s no name on the outside.”

“All right. I’ll be right down,” Abby said, giving her mother a reassuring smile before she left.”

Flicking her blond curls back, she found her black strappy heels, sliding them on easily before heading down.

The package was sitting on the entry table. No larger than a shoebox, she puzzled over it before opening the top.

A note was lying on the tissue paper, but as she removed it, the paper parted, revealing a glass bottle.

Reaching inside, her breath caught as her fingers gripped the cool glass. Her heart thundered in her ears.

Could it possibly be the same bottle?

The thought was too far-fetched. But pulling it out, she saw a note rolled carefully inside and knew. It was the note that she had thrown into the ocean at Thanksgiving.

Grasping the card, she ripped the envelope, almost tearing the letter in her haste.

Abby,

I found this letter at Dylan Thane’s home. I thought it only right that you learn that he had found it some time ago. If our roles were reversed, I would want to know that Dylan was playing me, making a fool of me because of this letter. He tracked you down after finding this, hoping to amuse himself at your expense. I hope you don’t let him hurt you any more than he already has. Don’t ever be anyone’s reason for laughing. Merry Christmas.

Your Secret Santa

Her breath stole out of her lungs. The burning feeling in her chest had her gasping in a ragged breath.

Grabbing the box and letter, she raced to her room, only allowing herself to collapse to the floor once the door was closed.

Despair gripped her, wracking through her in waves.

She hadn’t thought it was possible for her heart to literally shatter, but she now knew it was. She could feel the pieces break apart, scattering in a way that she would never be able to reassemble.

In grief, she sobbed, her hand racing to her mouth to hold the sound in before another one escaped. Then another. There was no holding back the surges of pain as she began to gulp air.

Was it possible? Had Dylan found this letter and then used her for his own entertainment? The thought lanced her aching heart, drawing a fresh slash of pain.

She didn’t want to believe it. She didn’t want to think he was capable of such a thing. But holding the bottle in her hand, her letter wrapped inside, she couldn’t dismiss it completely.

If it were true, if he had found the bottle, why hadn’t he told her? Why hadn’t he mentioned it any of the times they had been together?

There had to be another explanation. But as she combed her brain for one, she couldn’t come up with an alternative.

He had used her. Had played her cruelly.

She was in love with him. And she meant nothing to him.

Weeping softly, she mourned the loss of the love she had for him, knowing that it would never be the same.

He was running late, but he didn’t think Abby would hold it against him.

As he drove down the road to Abby’s parents’ house, he was surprised to see the crowds of parked cars in the neighborhood. Abby had said the party was huge, but he hadn’t realized that it would be this large.

Confident that the business that had delayed him was taken care of, allowing him to enjoy the rest of the evening, focusing solely on Abby, he made his way to the house.

He couldn’t wait to see her. Couldn’t wait to tell her how much she meant to him.

He had already decided that he would tell her right away. Reserving the rest of their evening to the party and getting to know her family.

Before he could ring the doorbell, a woman opened the door, surprising him with how much she resembled Abby. He could only smile, thinking how Abby would look as the years went by. He knew she would only become more beautiful with each year.

“You must be Dylan.” The woman eyed him before stepping back.

“Yes. And you must be Mrs. Carter. Abby looks a lot like you.”

“Yes she does. And like me, she trusts too easily.”

The frost in her voice had him cocking his head. “I’ll have to keep that in mind.”

“She’s waiting for you upstairs. I suggest you be honest with her.”

“I’ve only ever been such with her.”

She eyed him considering. “You don’t strike me as a fool. And you don’t seem to be a user. But I don’t know you.”

A sudden weight settled in his stomach. “Is there something I should know? Did something happen to Abby?” Thoughts of what could have happened swirled through his mind, but he latched onto her earlier comment that she was upstairs waiting for him.

“I’ll let her explain it to you.” She stepped back. “It’s the first door on the right.”

He didn’t wait a moment longer, moving up the stairs with the single thought of reaching her.

“Abby?” He knocked on the door before opening it. He sighed heavily as she saw her at the window, her back to him. Her hair was pulled over her shoulder, offering him a view of her slim neck, the sweet curve of her shoulders, and he felt an ache in his heart.

He loved her.

“Please close the door.”

His brows lowered in confusion. He had never heard her sound that way. So detached, so numb. “Is everything all right?” he moved forward cautiously, smart enough to know not to touch her.

She turned slowly, her swollen eyes locking onto his.

“My God, what happened?” He moved forward, needing to take her into his arms, needing to offer her comfort. She held up her hand, stopping his progress. “What’s going on, Abby?”

“I’m going to ask you a question. And I expect an honest answer from you.”

“All right.”

She reached for something and then held it in front of her. “Did you find this?”

His gut clenched as he looked from the bottle he had found in the ocean, into her eyes. “It looks like the one I pulled out of the ocean several weeks ago, but I can’t be certain.”

Her gazed raked painfully over him. “How could you do that to me? How could you use me like that? Have you no conscience at all?”

“Abby, listen—”

“No. You found my letter.” It wasn’t a question, but he nodded anyway. “You found it, but didn’t tell me. I bet you got a good laugh from it.”

“No. Never.”

“Here’s some desperate girl asking Santa for a boyfriend. Wow, you must think I’m pathetic.”

“Absolutely not.” Her eyes were dead as they looked at him, and he felt a fresh rush of panic. “I never thought you were desperate. I never laughed at you. Your letter intrigued me. At the time I was feeling the same way and I wanted to meet you.”

“The bar? You knew I’d be there?”

“Yes.”

She laughed bitterly. “Well, I guess being a private investigator has its advantages.”

“Abby, after meeting you, I wanted to get to know you. I wanted to be with you. It had nothing to do with the letter after that.”

“Oh, so you’re saying you just forgot about it?”

“Yes.”

She spun away from him. “That isn’t possible!”

“It’s the truth.”

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