Can't Let Go

chapter Eight

Logan unloaded the rest of the boxes while Abby arranged the shipping information inside the post office. They had already met with a real estate agent to put the house on the market, and Abby had spent the majority of her night cleaning the house—much to Logan’s annoyance, once he had discovered that she had stayed much longer than a few minutes, as she had promised.

It was hard to believe that already a week had gone by since she’d arrived. Soon she would be returning home—back to her life. Her life that was going to be very different now that it didn’t include Rumor. She wondered what it was going to be like—how she was going to go on through her daily routine without including Hayley.

She wondered if it was going to be difficult to relegate thoughts of Logan Sheppard to the back of her mind, as it had been the first time around. She wondered if Eric would notice.

Logan was leaving in a few short hours. Abby was beginning to accept the idea that she would never see him again, almost welcoming it. She needed to create some distance—it was the only way she would be able to let go. She wouldn’t be able to move on with her life until he was out of it.

She would be following soon thereafter—flying out from Louisville rather than Nashville this time. The extra half-hour would allow her some time to cope with what she was leaving behind—and she was sure she would need it.

After paying the fees, she stepped out into the fresh air, breathing it in. It was going to be difficult to leave all of this behind, she mused, knowing she wasn’t just talking about the natural beauty of the state. “So I guess that’s it then.” His voice startled her and she jumped, her eyes fluttering open. She’d brought back her sunglasses, needing the extra protection they gave her.

“I guess this is it,” she repeated, nodding. A breeze lifted her hair from her shoulders, but she stayed still. “I just—” Her throat was closing up, tears threatening to come. She took a deep breath. “I just wanted to say thanks, Logan—you know, for being here.”

“I’m just sorry it was under such horrible circumstances.”

“That’s life,” Abby said with a shrug. “Thanks for all of your help.”

“You should know I’d do just about anything for you, Abby.”

“Just about anything,” she repeated, tears now in her eyes. His words were a reminder of the one thing he couldn’t do—and that was stay.

He hadn’t been able to stay for her.

A tear escaped, rolling down her cheek, escaping the sunglasses. Logan reached forward and wiped it away, allowing his hand to linger just a moment longer than necessary. Abby felt herself unwillingly lean into it, burning the memory into her mind. She needed something to hold on to—anything to remind her that it had all been real.

“We don’t have to do this, Abby.”

“Oh, Logan,” she reached up then, taking his hand in hers and drawing it to her lips. She kissed the back of his hand very gently before releasing it. “Yes, we do.”

“Abby—” She shook her head, backing away.

“Go on, Logan. Don’t make this harder than it has to be.”

“But I—” Another breeze stirred, causing Abby’s hair to whip around wildly. She was continuing to back away from him, creating more and more distance. “I love you, Abigail Lewis.” He said quietly. And though he knew she couldn’t have heard him, she paused, taking one last look, before turning around and disappearing out of sight. He watched, waiting for her car to leave the parking lot—hoping against all odds that she would change her mind and return to him.

But a few moments later, he saw her familiar silver rental pull into view. He watched as she hesitated for a moment before turning out into traffic, disappearing among the various other vehicles.

She was gone—it was over.

Logan tried to ignore the sudden ache in his chest, but it coursed through his veins, taking him over.

Finally, he drew in a long, ragged breath before descending the stairs and heading to his truck. His flight would be leaving soon and he still had quite a drive to the airport. But he seemed to lack any motivation to go on. The thought of returning to his life—his monotonous, boring life—it pained him.

But he climbed into the truck and made the drive to the airport, knowing it was his only option. He was an adult now—he couldn’t go hide away somewhere and pretend the world didn’t matter like he had done the last time he’d lost her. No, he had responsibilities. People were counting on him for more than just their serving of alcohol now.

It was a long drive and he was fortunate to find that his flight was on some sort of weather delay. Apparently there were some threatening storms rolling around out west, he discovered from the other passengers as they all sat aboard the plane. Everyone around him was anxious to get wherever it was they were going, but Logan didn’t care. What was he returning to?

A house he was building for a family he would never have? A job he actually enjoyed, but had no one to share it with? He’d never realized how much he’d actually included Abby in his plans—never, until now, when it was clear that she would never be in them. It all seemed so pointless.

About an hour later, the flight finally took off. Logan glanced at his watch, imagining Abby boarding her own plane, getting ready to take off. He sighed quietly, closing his eyes, imagining what it would have been like. He imagined the children, the house, the wife. He saw Abby smiling at him—smiling as she used to, many years ago. He imagined laying next to her in bed, trailing his fingers over the smooth skin of her stomach.

The plane around him jolted a few times, disturbing him from his peaceful imagery. He looked around, wondering what was going on. Stewardesses were rushing back and forth, whispering urgently to one another. “Pardon the commotion, folks. It seems we’ve hit a bit of a rough patch.” The pilot announced over the intercom, but Logan tuned him out, returning to his daydream.

He brought Blake and Hayley back, imagining their children running around in the backyard. Their laughter was so melodious—everyone melding together. A longing filled his chest and Logan cursed reality. It shouldn’t be like this. He should be living this life—he should be with her. They should be tucking their kids into bed at night and arguing about what to have for dinner. Blake and Hayley should be there, too.

It was all wrong. All of it.

Another wave of turbulence passed and Logan opened his eyes, growing more concerned. The pilot came back over the intercom. “Pardon us again, folks, but it seems things are worse than we originally thought. We’re receiving word from Air Traffic Control that all flights in the area are to be grounded immediately. We’ll be nearing our stop shortly, so if all would please prepare for landing…”

Logan looked out the window, his eyes narrowing. They were flying directly above what appeared to be some very vicious weather. The plane shook violently once more. Well, he thought, if the plane goes down—I’m going down happy.

And with that, he closed his eyes again, returning the images of his alternate reality.



~*~



Abby stared in the mirror of the airplane’s bathroom.

It was strange, she thought, that she didn’t recognize the person staring back at her at all now. A transformation that had seemingly begun with her eyes had spread throughout the rest of her appearance. She seemed so…empty. She appeared to be put-together quite well, wearing a pair of black pants and a simple white top, layered over a dark colored tank top. Her hair was perfectly placed, her makeup well-done.

Though she had cried throughout most of the drive to the airport, her eyes were no longer red, the swelling gone. But they were lifeless. Utterly vacant, without a single spark. She couldn’t even see the marks of pain and loss in them anymore.

She was a completely different person. A robot, she realized.

A sudden shudder of the plane caused Abby to lose her balance and she reached out, trying to steady herself. Someone knocked at the door and she shook her head, wondering how long she had occupied the small restroom. She apologized as she exited, making her way back to her seat.

A movie was playing, but she couldn’t pay attention. It was some sort of romantic comedy, and for some reason, the thought of watching it caused a wave of nausea to pass through her.

They hit more turbulence, but Abby barely noticed. She was lost among her thoughts—trying to organize them, attempting to separate the good from the bad. No matter what she did, though, Logan continued to show his face. And every time, the acidic taste of regret would fill her mouth.

She scolded herself, then, telling herself that she was doing the right thing. Obviously, things weren’t meant to be. There was a reason they had been apart for so long—a reason why he hadn’t come to find her, or why she hadn’t gone to find him.

But something told her she was only lying to herself.

The pilot’s voice soon interrupted her thoughts, announcing that they were making an emergency landing. They were somewhere near Kansas and apparently, there was some sort of unexpected tornado outbreak taking place.

Her thoughts immediately turned to Logan, who she knew to be on a flight somewhere in the area. She wondered if the pilot would state whether there had been any accidents—but then she rolled her eyes, knowing he wouldn’t. It would be irresponsible for a pilot to frighten his passengers with such information.

It was a rough landing. More than once, Abby found herself gripping the armrests and clenching her teeth, waiting for it to be over. When they finally touched the ground, she let out a sigh of relief, her heart thumping loudly in her chest. She needed to get off the plane—she needed to find out if the other flights had made it.

They were let off the plane in an orderly manner, stewardesses explaining that there would be bedding provided for those who were unable to obtain rooms, as well as food vouchers and various other items. But Abby didn’t care. She could only think of one thing.

Her eyes darted around, looking for monitors—for anything that might tell her he was okay.

And as if materializing from a dream, her eyes landed on a familiarly shaggy haired man with a subtle growth of stubble and piercing gray eyes.

It took everything within her not to run and greet him—to jump into his arms and shower him with adoration. “Fancy seeing you here,” he said with that irresistible charm as he leaned against a pillar. Abby closed her eyes and exhaled, thanking whatever Gods there may be that he was all right.

“What are the odds that we get stuck at the same airport?” She asked and he chuckled, shaking his head.

“I’d say they’re pretty slim.”

“I guess we have a way with bad odds.” She sighed, thinking over the last week as she looked around.

“Don’t even bother trying to get a room—about four other planes have already landed. Everything’s all booked up.” Abby rolled her eyes, looking everywhere but at him. She wondered if it would even be necessary to get a room. It didn’t look that bad out. “And, yes, from what I’ve heard—all flights are grounded indefinitely.”

“Well, isn’t this just poetic.” She shook her head, almost wanting to laugh at the irony. After their big final farewell not more than four hours ago—here they were, practically right back where they started.

“What’s even more poetic…” He held out a key. “Is that I have a room.”

“I don’t need a room.”

“Well, I wasn’t going to give it to you.” She crossed her arms over her chest, eyeing him irritably. “But I was going to offer to share.”

“Like that is going to happen.” And he laughed, shaking his head. “Honestly, Logan. I’d rather sleep just about anywhere than share a room with you.” She certainly didn’t need to put herself through that torture. She was happy that he was safe—overjoyed, even—but that was where she drew the line.

“I’m actually offended.” She rolled her eyes, grabbing her carry-on bag from the floor and beginning to walk through the airport. All around, people were laying claim to chairs and benches.

Well, they couldn’t all be taken. She refused to go to Logan. No way was she going to do that to herself again. She just couldn’t.

But nearly an hour later, she still hadn’t really found a place to call her own. Her stomach grumbled loudly and she wondered when the last time she’d eaten was. She remembered donuts with Logan this morning—

And then, all at once, she gave up.

There was a bar just down the way and Abby sighed, memories of she and Hayley washing over her. They had spent so much time sitting around in the bar back in Boston, waiting for those boys—watching them, flirting with them. Doing everything they could to win them over.

She was already crossing the corridor and making her way inside. It was crowded, but she pushed her way through until she found an empty seat at the bar. She tossed her bag on the floor at her feet, scanning over the menu.

The bartender came over and took her order—a burger and fries, and a beer to go with it.

She didn’t even care that she didn’t drink beer. She didn’t care that she hadn’t had a bar burger and fries probably since the last time she’d done so with Logan, who knew how long ago. She didn’t care that he continued to pop into her mind, as if he actually belonged there.

She didn’t care about any of it.

When her order arrived, she practically chugged the beer before moving on to her food. She needed to stop feeling. That was the solution.

And as the night wore on, the prospect of no longer feeling became more and more obtainable. She poured back drink after drink—after awhile, not even tasting it anymore.

Seemingly out of nowhere, Logan appeared at her side. She looked at him, tilting her head to the side. “You keep doing that.” She said abruptly.

“Doing what?” he asked, confused. It was clear to him that Abby was a bit tipsy.

“Popping up. It’s really quite annoying.” He laughed then, shrugging his shoulders casually. “Sit down, have a drink!”

“I don’t think…”

“No, Logan. That’s exactly right. Don’t think. We’re not thinking anymore today.” She called for the bartender—a younger guy, probably putting himself through college—and ordered a shot of whiskey for Logan. “I know you don’t really like whiskey, but I’m afraid you need to catch up. I’m already way ahead of you.”

“I really think—” But she didn’t let him finish, reaching up and touching her finger to his lips.

“Shh. No thinking.” The bartender returned, placing the shot of golden liquid in front of him. He stared at it for a long moment before reaching out and tossing the glass back. His throat burned as it went down, spreading through his chest. “Another!” Abby squealed, clapping her hands as she laughed.

She was radiant again, spilling over with life. She’d let go of all of her inhibitions. She’d forgotten about all of the baggage she was carrying around.

She was free.

It was hard to deny Abby under normal circumstances—but seeing her now, as he’d remembered her being, she was impossible to say no to. And so he did shot after shot, taking orders from her—laughing with her, enjoying himself.

“Mr. Bartender, Sir—we would like a shot of your finest tequila,” Abby ordered, a devilish grin on her face. She wiggled her eyebrows at him as she unbuttoned the top few buttons of her white top. “Remember this?” She questioned, and he watched as she leaned forward and picked up a moistened napkin from the bar and then brought it back to the exposed flesh at the line just above her tank top. She then sprinkled some salt on her fingers and dabbed it on, scooting herself closer to him. When the lemon arrived, she placed it between her lips.

It was something they had done often when Logan had worked at the bar.

He was hesitant, unsure of what to do with himself. He knew there was a reason why he wasn’t supposed to do this, but he couldn’t quite remember what it was.

And so he gave in, leaning over and placing his mouth on her warm skin, tasting the salt. He then picked up the glass and poured it back before leaning forward, touching his hand to her chin.

Just before their lips met, Abby dropped the lemon, as she’d always used to do.

And then, finally, the moment they finally came together, it was as if something had erupted. A sudden passion, laying dormant and unbidden, stirred to life deep inside them. It shocked them out of whatever drunken stupor they’d gotten themselves into and Abby pulled back, stunned as she reached up to touch her lips. And then she reached over and touched his, wondering if he felt it too.

“You still willing to share that room of yours, Mr. Sheppard?” she asked, holding his eyes.

“Have you changed your mind?” She wasn’t sure what he was asking her about, but all she could do was nod. “Should we go now then?” She nodded again, reaching into her purse and grabbing several bills. She tossed them to the counter and reached down to grab her bag—only to find that Logan already held it. “Right this way,” he held out his arm, guiding her in the right direction.

The hotel was only just across the way, but they were required to take a shuttle to get there. Abby bubbled on nervously at his side as they approached his room, wishing she could still feel the effects of the alcohol. “You know, I think you were a much better bartender.”

“Really now?” She nodded emphatically as he unlocked the door.

“I think his drinks were a little bit on the weak side.” Logan chuckled, nodding his head. “Although, I must admit that was one powerful shot of tequila.” They stood just outside the door then, Abby looking up at him, her lips still full from his earlier kiss.

And he couldn’t resist.

He bowed his head, touching his lips to hers. She melted into him, wrapping her arms around his neck and guiding them backward into the room. She didn’t even flinch as the heavy door swung shut behind them.

There was an impulsive need that swept through them as they crashed into each other. It was a hunger that had been denied for far too long and their bodies cried out, the need undeniable now. Abby didn’t think about the consequences of her actions. She didn’t think about Eric or her father. She couldn’t think of anything but Logan.

And Logan met her fervor, guiding her toward the bed. They fumbled with each others clothing until both were freed from their constraints. And then they tumbled into the bed, Abby whispering his name over and over again.

It was heaven. Nothing but pure heaven.

And it was never-ending—their hunger starved for so long, they divulged themselves, taking their fill, reveling in the sweetness of the moment.

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