As I stared at the plant, I said, “No, she wasn’t. Not after I explained a few things to her.” I looked back at Abby. “Why are you sitting on the ground in here, and where did you get that plant?”
She looked at it. When she spoke, she sounded so far away. “It’s root-bound and needs to be repotted.” Then she lifted her head and let her gaze travel around the greenhouse. “You let them all die.”
I exhaled, following her gaze. “It was too hard to come in here after you left…and honestly, it’s been out of sight, out of mind.”
Her head wobbled with what I thought was a nod.
“Was that plant in here?” I asked.
“Yes,” she said softly. Then she stood and headed toward the back of the greenhouse. She put the plant down, opened a cabinet door, and pulled out a larger pot.
“It’s lived in here the whole time?”
Abby cleared her throat. “I planted it the day I found out I was pregnant. From some bulbs I’d ordered. I wasn’t sure they would take, since they tend to grow in Asia and Eastern Europe. But…it looks like it’s done well.”
She got to work opening a bag of soil. As she started to transplant the flower, I sat down on a stool at the workbench.
“What does the flower mean?” I asked.
Her hands paused for a moment before she reached for the smaller pot and gently worked the flower out. I knew Abby, and I knew she knew the meaning of every flower she’d planted and loved.
Her chin trembled for the briefest of moments before she spoke. “It’s called a Galanthus nivalis. Or a snowdrop. The first flower blooms at the end of winter, beginning of spring, and it’s a symbol of hope.”
She filled in the pot and made sure the plant was straight. “There, that should give her some room to grow. Maybe you could have Ken come in and water her. She’s made it this far. I’d hate to see her die.”
I stood and walked closer to her, and when I touched her hand, she froze. Closing her eyes, she stood perfectly still.
Leaning down, I brushed my lips across her ear and whispered, “Breathe, Abs.”
She drew in a shaking breath, then spun around to face me.
Tears streamed down her face. “I left because I was afraid to get pregnant again. I knew you wanted to have another baby, and the idea of it scared me to death. I was so, so lost, and I had no idea how to make you feel better when I couldn’t even figure out what in the hell was wrong with me. Looking back now, I don’t know why I couldn’t talk to you about it. I was just too messed up in the head to even think clearly.”
She wiped her tears away. “I reasoned with myself that if I left, if I gave you a chance to just forget about me, you’d be able to have the family you wanted so much, because at the time I…I wasn’t sure I could. I was so afraid to go through that hurt again. I’d never felt so lost!”
I took a step closer and cupped her face in my hands. “Abby, all I wanted was you.”
Sobs ripped from deep within her, and she collapsed into my chest. I wrapped my arms around her and let her cry. After a minute or two, she drew back.
“I know that now. I knew that the day of our divorce hearing, and I wanted to beg you to forgive me. I nearly dropped to my knees outside of that damn courtroom when you said we didn’t have anything to talk about. All those times you called or texted…I was so afraid to tell you how scared I was. How messed up my head was, and how ashamed I was for walking away from you…from everyone. I felt so ashamed.”
She sucked in a shaky breath and went on. “I was a coward for hiding, for being too damn afraid to simply talk to you and tell you how I felt. I blamed myself for the loss of the baby, and I needed to punish myself for disappointing you.”
“What?” I gasped as I placed my finger under her chin, lifting it until our eyes met. “Abby, it was not your fault! You never disappointed me by losing the baby. Never.”
Her chin trembled. “I know that now, Bishop. But in my head then…I didn’t know anything. All I knew was sadness and anger and fear. By the time I got my head straight, it had been a year since I’d left. You wouldn’t take my calls, so I came back to Boggy Creek to talk to you. I came by the house, but you weren’t here. A kid named Jack said you went out with Kyle and Hunter. That I would most likely find you at Brew’s Place.”
Abby stepped away from me and wiped away more tears. “I went there to look for you. I needed to talk to you, to tell you everything. To beg you to forgive me.”
A sickness started in the pit of my stomach and slowly made its way up, burning at the back of my throat. I knew exactly what she was going to say.
She’d seen me with another woman.
“When I walked in, I saw Kyle and Hunter both dancing with some girls who looked like tourists. I didn’t know them. I kept out of sight and made my way back toward the bathrooms. There was a dark corner, so I started for it, thinking I could wait there until I saw you.”
“Stop,” I whispered. “Please, Abby.”
Her eyes filled with tears again, but she held them back as she went on. “You wanted to know the truth, Bishop, and I have to tell you everything. The reason I stopped coming home to Boggy Creek was because I saw you with someone…and I didn’t need to look for very long to see what was happening. I turned and ran for the bathroom and threw up. Then I slipped out the back door, got in my car and drove back to Boston.”
I reached for Abby and pulled her to me. Closing my eyes, I dropped my head down until my forehead rested on hers.
Christ Almighty. What had we done to each other?
Abby
The look of horror on Bishop’s face before he rested his forehead on mine nearly broke me. I knew telling him about that night would be hard, but he needed to know everything.
I reached up and grabbed his arms. “It’s okay,” I whispered when I heard him let out a soft sob.
“I never knew you were there, Abby,” Bishop said as he cried. “I never knew you came to see me…I’m so sorry, Abs.”
I shook my head and placed my hands on the sides of his face, like he’d done to me only moments ago. “You don’t need to say anything, especially that you’re sorry. I’m the one who left you. I needed to tell you that, Bishop, so you’d understand why I never came back. I knew deep in my heart you would move on.”
His brows pulled in tight. “That’s where you’re wrong, Abby. I never moved on. I might have had sex with other women, but none of it meant anything. It was a poor attempt at trying to get you out of my mind. And you didn’t…you didn’t—”
His voice cracked, and I wrapped my arms around his neck while he wrapped his around my waist.
“I’m not mad, Bishop. You didn’t do anything wrong, and I don’t blame you.”
He buried his face in my neck and drew in a deep breath. “Rose and vanilla.”
I stilled. “What?”
“You’ve always smelled like roses and vanilla. Ever since the first day I met you. I thought it was because you were in the garden so much, but now I think it’s just you.”
Smiling, I threaded my fingers through his soft hair as we stood in each other’s arms.