Always Wanting (Consumed)

“I get you’re scared and worried I may let you down again. And as much as I want to protest and tell you I won’t, you’re right, there is no way for me to know what the future holds, but I swear to you, I will try my damnedest to not let it happen again. There has to be some way we can work around it.” I swallow, then clear my throat, baring my soul to her. “I love you, Abby. I’ve never told another woman that before. Those words are precious to me, and I mean them with every beat of my heart. Please, baby, please don’t give up on us.”

She jerks with my confession of love, her eyes widening. When she tries to scramble from my lap, I lift my knees and lock my arms around her waist so she can’t go anywhere.

“Colt, you can’t—”

“I can and I do,” I tell her, giving her waist a little shake. “Why are you so surprised? You make it so easy for the people around you to love you. You may try to push them away, but the cracks in your walls are big enough for them to slip through. You don’t realize it, but you’re begging to be loved. Let me be one of them. Don’t push me away because of this.”

She squeezes her eyes shut and several tears spill out. I wipe them away as her lips tremble. I think I’ve finally gotten through to her when she opens her eyes, but a look of immense pain flashes in their depths. I know right then; she’s still going to end it.

She gently, but forcefully removes my hands from her waist. I let her because I know I’m not going to get through to her right now. She needs time to think, and I’ll give her that, for now.

“I’m sorry,” she says tearfully. “I just can’t take that chance. I can’t take the chance of one day hurting you like that. My body isn’t built for only one man, even if I desperately want it to be.”

I don’t agree with her, but arguing is pointless. I can see it in her eyes that no matter what I say, nothing will get through to her.

I let her slip through my fingers and slide off my lap. The sudden coldness of not having her body next to mine is hard to accept, and I almost snatch her back to me. She keeps her eyes off me as she gets up from the bed, still holding the sheet around her. It hurts to see her walk away from me. It feels like she’s taking a part of me with her, and in a sense, she is. My heart. She may not want it right now, but she has it regardless. And I don’t want it back. I want her to always hold it and keep it safe.

Right before she closes the bathroom door, effectively locking me out of her life, I tell her, “I’m going to give you time, because obviously, I’m not going to change your mind right now, but this isn’t over, Abby. Just because I’m letting you walk away, doesn’t mean I’m letting you walk away for good. I’m going to fight for you and prove to you that what we have is worth it.”

Her shoulders stiffen, then sag. She doesn’t turn around when she speaks, but I still hear it. “Don’t waste your time. I’m not changing my mind.” She doesn’t give me time to answer, just closes the door quietly behind her.

I take several minutes to calm my racing heart down, before getting up and grabbing my clothes. I’m sure Abby will stay inside the bathroom until she knows I’m gone. She’s not a coward by any means, but I know she’d rather I be gone to avoid any further confrontation. I’ll give her that, because the longer she has time to think things over, the sooner I can work at getting her back. I don’t want to leave, everything in me is demanding I stay and force the issue now, but it will only push her further from me.

Once I’m dressed, I walk to the bathroom door and lay my hand against it. It’s stupid of me to think, but I swear I almost feel the warmth of her hand against mine on the other side, like she’s standing just like I am, not wanting me to leave either.

Closing my eyes, I murmur, “I’ll be back. I love you.” Then I walk out the door.

Chapter Fourteen

Abby

I slide the box of blocks back underneath the shelf and stand up, rubbing the ache in my back. It’s been a long day, and I’m glad it’s almost over.

A look over by the coat rack shows only one child left, before Mrs. Morris and I can finish up the last few things we need to do before heading home. Lizzy stands with her hands folded in front of her, looking down at her feet as she waits for her grandmother to pick her up. She looks forlorn, and it makes my heart hurt.

I walk over and kneel in front of her to unbutton and correctly button her jacket. “I like the picture that you drew earlier,” I tell her.

She’s starting to open up a bit more with the other kids besides just Ashley, but there are times when I can still see the sadness in her eyes. I wonder if the nights before are the nights she gets to talk to her mother. I also wonder if her mother is doing better. For Lizzy’s sake, I hope so. It’s already bad enough she has to live without one parent. No child should have to live without both.

“Tank you,” she says in her soft, girly voice.

“Is it you and your mom you drew?” I adjust the bottom of her dress that’s ridden up a little.

She nods, keeping her eyes on the floor between us.

“She’s very pretty.”

She finally looks up at me and her eyes light up a bit.

“Weally? My gwanma says I wook wike her. She says I wook like my daddy too.”

“Well, if she looks anything like you, then she must be pretty.” I smile and tap the end of her nose. Her smile grows wider, and it makes my own smile widen.

“I have a pichure of her and my dad beside my bed. I like to wook at it at night. I miss her most at night. She used to wead me stories.”

Poor baby. My heart aches for her.

“I bet your grandma reads you books now, doesn’t she?”