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Except I didn’t burn down the world for him, did I? I barely even lit a match.
“See,” she says, pointing at me. “That right there tells me all I need to know. It doesn’t bother you in the least that I’ve moved on and found a man who loves me better than you ever could.”
I frown, peering up at her over the rim. “Did you…want it to?”
She scoffs. “God no. I’mglad.I worried at first.”
Nodding, I remember this. We only touched on it briefly when she revealed to me she was seeing someone. That was a few months ago. In fact, tonight was their three month anniversary. Hence why I was called over to babysit while they went out to dinner and drinks after.
If Abby could stay the night with me, she wouldn’t have had to come home…
But she knows this. I know this. It’s the unspoken elephant in the room, the one we’re not quite ready to address.
It’s been a long, slow, few years, and we’ve finally got to the point where she trusts me to watch her alone well into the night. A newer development, one that arose not long after Hal’s and my talk that day.
But still, Mel always comes home. And while I’m always invited to crash here, I never take her up on it.
What’s the point? She’s here now. I have my own bed, which is far more comfortable than that stiff monstrosity in the living room.
But aside from the couple times Mel brought her over to visit and see my new place now that it’s furnished and safe, Abby doesn’t come over. And definitely not without Mel there.
For one, I have a lake.
For another, it’s my turf, and that means Mel can’t control the environment as much as she can here. Not that I drink or plan on ever drinking again, but if I wanted to, in the privacy of my own home, I could. I’m more likely to slip there than here.
And while it stings…I also can’t find it in me to disagree and fight her on it. That one mistake not only fucked up Mel’s sense of security—her trust in me—but it fucked up my own trust in myself.
Doing things the way we’ve been doing…it’s not ideal, but it’s comfortable. It’s safe. Abby’s healthy and happy and I get to see her whenever I want, so why risk fucking that up.
I’m not ready. She’s not ready. And that’s okay.
But saying his name before, making it real, sharing the existence of him with another…
Seeing how happy Mel is with Vance.
“Fight for her.”
I blink up at her. “What?”
“Fight for Sky. If she means that much to you, why’d you give up so easily?” She shrugs, like it’s nothing. “So, what, you found out she moved on, and that was that?”
Of course that’s what she thinks happened.
I don’t bother correcting her. What’s the point? The outcome is still the same. Skyler isgone.
God, I really do hope he moved on. Found some guy, fell in love, and ran away. As much as it would kill me, out of all the possible scenarios, I can’t deny that’s not the best one.
Is it though?
“Does she even know how much she means to you?”
How in a matter of a single sentence, Mel manages to shed light on the regret that plagues me most—the one that keeps me up at night, eating at me with the vengeance of shark infested waters—is quite a feat.
Maybe if he knew, he would’ve never disappeared on me…
Mel’s wearing that same no-nonsense expression my five-year-old daughter gives me when I tell her it’s too cold for ice cream—raised brows, flattened mouth.
Chuckling wryly, I rub a fist over my aching chest. “What do you want me to say? I fucked up. I thought it was for the best.”
