“You won’t go in there and destroy your entire life for Sammy.”
“I promise,” he whispered, caught in her sharp gaze.
On the heels of those words came another thought, so unexpected it nearly bowled him over:No. But I’d do it for you.
* * *
The door closed behind Luc without a sound, as if he’d never been there. There’d been no kiss good-bye, no hug, nothing but an uncomfortable look before he was gone, and Abby couldn’t be sure any of it had happened.Anyof it. Had they really touched each other? Kissed and done…those wonderfully sinful things just the night before?
Perhaps I imagined it. The soft tastes, that clenching need, those shimmering moments. Did I make it all up?
When the doctor came back in, her expression asked a question that she wasn’t rude enough to voice. And Abby, who typically liked to share things, kept her mouth firmly shut. Not this. She didn’t want to share this. Not the secret or the unexpected hurt of rejection, nor the memories that might not be real.
“How do you feel?”
“Strange,” she said.
“Let’s get you home and into bed.”
For someone who hadn’t taken medication since she was a young child, Abby had been dosed up to her gills today. She was tired. Sleepy, sleepy tired. She squinted down at her clothes. Luc’s blanket kept her warm. Beneath that, his clothes had been replaced by scrubs adorned with pink elephants. With wings. Elephants with wings.
“They don’t have wings, do they?” she asked as they emerged into the front room.
“Excuse me?”
“Elephants. I thought they just stomped.”
“No wings.” The doctor opened the front door, letting in a whoosh of fresh air. Abby lifted her eyes from the animals on her clothing and caught sight of the black SUV, lights on top. She stopped.
“What is it?”
“I forgot about the… He’s police.” Police were bad. Isaiah would—
“It’s okay. It’s okay, Abby. He’s with me, remember? With us. He’s my ride. He watched Luc’s dog.”
“Luc’s dog.”
“Right.”
Abby calmed down a notch.
The doctor hung back for a moment, appearing to consider. “Like I told you, he’s my fiancé. The sheriff of Blackwood County. We live together.”
“I can’t—”
“I won’t tell him what happened to you, Abby.”
“But he’s your—”
“It doesn’t matter who he is. He’s not privy to your personal, private medical information. It would be illegal for me to tell him.”
Abby relaxed. A bit.
“He’s also… Did you get a look at him earlier? He’s a little”—Dr. Hadley glanced at her, then back out at the snow-crusted road—“intimidating. His face is…marred, and he’s been through a bit. He won’t ask you questions, but he’s the type of person who would get involved if he thought it was the right thing to do.”
“So, should I—”
“You should not worry. But don’t mention anything in front of him, unless you want him to…do something about it.”
