He just felt a sense of obligation. She took a deep breath then walked to her bedside drawers, opened the top one and dropped the card he’d given her in. She should probably chuck it in the trash. But she couldn’t bring herself to do that.
She sat on the bed, and placed her elbows on her thighs as she cupped her forehead in her hands.
She’d made a fool of herself.
She sucked back a sob. She would not cry. Tears didn’t solve anything.
Reynolds don’t cry, Abigail.
?
?Sorry, Nana,” she muttered. She grabbed Bun-bun, holding him tight.
I made a mistake. I’m not the kind of guy you need.
She gave a humorless bark of laughter. Right. More like she wasn’t what he needed.
Knowing she couldn’t sleep in this room and there was only one way to calm the emotions rioting inside her, she got to her feet, still holding Bun-bun and pulled off her duvet and pillow. She dragged them into the small dining room and dumped them by the table. Then she turned a lamp on in the corner of the room. Moving to the linen cupboard, she grabbed a couple of spare blankets. She arranged them on the top of the table so they draped over the edges, completely covering the table.
She pulled the cushions off the sofa and used them to create a mattress under the table. Finally, she picked Bun-bun back up, grabbed her duvet and pillow and climbed into her fort. She lay there and took a couple of slow, deep breaths to calm herself.
As a child, when her mother would bring home a strange man, she’d always hide herself under the bed. Sometimes, Max would join her.
She winced as she remembered some of the noises she’d heard. As a child, she hadn’t recognized what they were. She’d often worried that the man her mother had brought home was hurting her. Sometimes they would. There would be the slap of flesh meeting flesh. A cry of pain. Her mother limping the next morning or telling her and Max that the fresh bruise on her face was just because she was clumsy.
Abby was clumsy. She’d never once had a bruise on her face. Let alone multiple times.
Of course, she hadn’t realized the lies her mom had told them as a kid. But part of her had still known something was wrong. Hiding herself away had made her feel safer. As she’d grown older and was no longer able to fit comfortably under her bed, she’d started hiding under the covers. When Nana took them in, she’d often let Abby build a pillow fort like this one.
As a teenager, she’d stopped building them. Knowing it was weird and childish. But after Nana died, when things got bad with Max, and when she was stressed or worried, it was the only thing that gave her any sense of safety.
Pushing down the shame and embarrassment she felt, she snuggled into the cushions and grabbed tight hold of Bun-bun.
This wasn’t the first time she’d been rejected.
She’d get over it. Like she always did.
Chapter Seven
Kent strode out of the stables. He’d hoped a ride would clear his head. Rid him of some of the temper flooding him.
Yeah, that hadn’t worked out.
He kicked a rock off the pathway, sending it flying. Shit.
“Woah, big bro, what’s eating you?”
He turned to find Eden watching him. Her blonde hair was tied up in a high ponytail, she was dressed in a sweatshirt and jeans and looked about twelve. She was one of his favorite people in the world. From the minute she was born, when he was eight years old, he’d vowed he would take care of her.
But right now, he wasn’t in the mood to talk to her. Or anyone else.
“Nothing,” he muttered. “Got to go.” He walked towards her, then knowing he was acting like a jerk, he lightly touched her head in apology. “You should have a hat on, it’s cold out here.”
She sighed. “Where are you going?”
“Back to work.”
“Kent, wait.”