“I’ll spend the rest of our lives proving to you how much I regret these past years, baby,” I say. “Every single day, I’ll show you how much I love you. How much you mean to me.”
“I plan to live a very long time,” she smiles faintly. “That’s a lot of years for you to spend groveling.”
“You’re worth every second, Abigail,” I say, taking the first full breath I’ve had in what feels like years.
My mama’s face flashes through my mind, and I have to force the tears back.
“Mama would’ve loved you,” I tell her quietly. “She would’ve been on your side the entire time. Probably would’ve been giving you advice on how to make me suffer.”
“I would’ve loved her right back,” she says, not bothering to hide her tears. “I’m sorry I’ll never get to meet her. But she sure raised one hell of a man.”
“Abigail,” I scold teasingly. “You’re far too beautiful to be saying ugly words like that.”
“Bet that’s something your mama would’ve said to me,” she whispers, her voice cracking.
I should make her stop talking, but I can’t bring myself to end the moment.
“You’d lose money on that bet, babygirl,” I chuckle. “Where do you think I learned how to swear in the first place?”
Her smile widens, and she lets out a silent laugh.
“Alright, my sweet girl,” I say as I stand and gently tuck the blankets around her. “You need to stop talking now. I miss your voice, and I need you to heal so I can hear it again.”
Once she’s settled, I press a soft kiss to her forehead before returning to the chair beside the bed.
Fuck, I’m so damn tired.
“Sorry about your friends, honey,” Abigail whispers.
I glance over.
Her eyes are closed, but fresh tears slide down her temples.
“They were your friends too, baby,” I say softly. “They were our family.”
“Big T died,” she whimpers. “Right over my head.”
Fuck.
I knew that… but I’d hoped she didn’t.
“I can’t stay in that house.”
“You don’t have to,” I say quietly. “You can move into one of the empty ones… or you can move in with me.”
Her eyes open, but not in shock….in longing.
“Your door is ugly,” she says.
I can’t help but laugh.
There are twelve houses surrounding the clubhouse. Most empty. There were fifteen, but we’ve since changed a few into workshops and storage.
The women started this whole thing, where everyone paints their front doors different colors.
Abigail’s is purple.
Spike and Riley’s is teal and pink.
