Either way, the possibility of an impending engagement made her realize how badly she wanted to marry Logan. Yes, the thought had crossed her mind many times before, but she’d always brushed it off, convinced it was far too soon to even consider. She’d dated Donnie for three years before he proposed. She and Logan had been together less than six months.
They should wait… shouldn’t they?
“How long were you each with your fiancés before you got engaged?” she asked impulsively, topping off Sadie’s strawberry-hibiscus tea.
The two best friends exchanged glances then grinned.
“Less than a year,” Sadie told her. “Lucy started dating Vick in the fall and then Landon and I got together that winter. Then we both got engaged the following spring.”
“Feels like only yesterdayanda lifetime ago,” Lucy added with a dreamy glow about her. “What about you, Abby? How long have you been married?”
“Oh. I’m not—I mean, we’re not— We’re just dating,” Abby stammered, her cheeks flushed. Why did that question always catch her off guard? Possibly because she wanted it to be true.
“Sorry.” Lucy flashed a sheepish grimace. “I should have looked for a ring. You two just seem so in sync, I assumed you’ve been happily married for years.”
“It does feel that way sometimes,” Abby admitted. Whether they’d been together six months or six years, she couldn’t imagine life without Logan. Her heart had made its choice ages ago. Logan was her person. And she’d choose him a million times over. Her intuition told her that Logan felt the same way. Was he worried all the drama with Piper would mar their special moment?
As if on cue, a throat cleared. Piper lingered in the doorway of the dining room. “Sorry to interrupt. I’m heading to Verna’s to pick up Tyler, and then we’re taking off.”
Abby’s heartbeat stuttered.It’s time. “Would you ladies excuse me for a second?”
“Of course,” Sadie said while Lucy nodded, her mouth full again. “It was nice to meet you, Piper. Thank you for the delicious snickerdoodles. Lucy and I have enjoyed several already.”
Lucy swallowed, then exchanged her own goodbye with Piper before Abby stepped into the hall.
“Before you go, I have something for you.” Her pulse whirring, Abby led Piper to the sitting room. As she reached into the top drawer of the vintage campaign desk, she caught a glimpse of Logan, Max, and Tyler playing in Verna’s front yard across the street.
The boys looked so happy, so carefree. Logan was a wonderful father. A wonderful man. And they’d built a beautiful life together.
A wave of gratitude crashed into her, and she swallowed against the sudden tightness in her throat. Turning toward Piper, she handed her an envelope.
“Oh. Thank you, but Logan already paid me.” Piper tried to pass it back.
“It’s not the money you earned.”
“What is it?” Piper slid out a stack of papers, frowning at all the legal jargon.
“It’s a trust for Tyler. There’s money to go toward everyday expenses and more that he’ll receive when he’s eighteen, either for college or whatever path he chooses.”
“I—I don’t understand.” Piper scanned the document, looking dazed. When she finally met her gaze, tears shimmered in her eyes. “Why are you doing this?”
Abby drew in a slow, deliberate breath. She’d asked herself that question several times, and always came up with the same answer. “It’s what Donnie would have wanted.”
A tear tumbled down Piper’s cheek, but she didn’t wipe it away.
“Donnie wasn’t perfect,” Abby told her, fighting her own welling emotions. “And I might wrestle with what he did for a long time to come. But I believe that he loved me. And I believe he would’ve loved his son more than anything.” Her heart squeezed. For what she lost. For what Tyler lost. But she also felt a strange release in finally putting Donnie’s money to use, as if this was its intended purpose all along.
To her surprise, Piper threw her arms around her, knocking the air from her lungs. “Thank you, thank you, thank you,” she murmured, her tears dampening Abby’s hair.
As Piper wept on her shoulder, Abby exhaled, letting her bitterness seep to the floor.
Forgiveness isn’t a weakness. It’s a sign of great strength. And it impacts the forgiver a lot more than the offender.
Verna’s words rang in her ear, clear and sweet and true.
Sniffling, Piper pulled back and wiped her eyes to study the papers again. “I—I still can’t believe it. What can I do to repay your kindness?”
“You don’t need to do anything. The money is yours, no strings attached. But—” Abby hesitated. Was she about to ask for too much? Was it a terrible idea?
