Greer and Arabella gasped, and Candace let out a whistle. Then she chuckled. “Bishop is going to shit…his…pants.”
I couldn’t help it—I laughed. Hard. The fact that Candace was so on the mark was ridiculously funny. “I would have to agree with you.”
“Grab coats or jackets, Arabella and Candace. We’re all going to need a drink.” Greer took my hand and pulled me farther into the apartment, then up the staircase that led to her rooftop area. Memories of nights I’d spent up there suddenly all came rushing back.
“The bar is still up here, I see.” I giggled as I walked across the rooftop and over to the edge. From where I was standing, I had a clear shot of the other buildings in town and across the river. And in the distance, I could see the faint outline of Wonderland. If you didn’t know it was there, you’d have no idea it was a tree farm.
Turning, I started to say something—and stopped short when I found the three of them standing there, staring at me.
“You’re back for good?” Arabella asked. “That is so…amazing and wonderful and…”
“I think the words you’re looking for is ‘shocking as fuck,’” Candace said as Greer handed me a glass of whiskey.
Arabella took her drink. “Those weren’t the words, but they’ll work.”
“Why? I mean, why now?” Greer asked.
I frowned, but then figured that was a fair enough question. “I was hoping I could speak to you and Arabella before I went and saw Bishop.”
“Bishop?” the three of them said at the same time.
“Yes. I mean, he’s the main reason I came back.”
Candace’s eyes went wide again. “This town is like a damn soap opera.”
Before I could even ask Candace what she meant, Greer walked closer to me. “Abby, what are you saying? Are you here to…to…get back with Bishop?”
“I’m not really sure what I hope to do, but I do need to talk to him. To apologize, as well as to apologize to you guys. For leaving like I did. For making the biggest mistake of my life.”
Candace took a step closer and raised a single brow. “Which was?”
I swallowed hard and blinked rapidly, trying not to bawl like a damn baby. “Leaving the only man I’ve ever loved.”
Greer looked at Candace, who simply nodded, turned, and walked over to the bar. She grabbed two bottles and started back toward us.
Arabella wrapped her arm around my shoulder. “I think we should sit down.”
I sat down on an outdoor love seat, with Arabella next to me and Candace to my left. Greer turned on the outdoor heaters, and I took off my jacket.
Candace set a bottle of whiskey down, along with a bottle of vodka, while Greer took the seat opposite me.
Glancing around at the three of them, I drew in a deep breath and slowly exhaled. “Before you say anything, I need to tell you both something.”
Candace started to stand. “I can leave.”
I reached for her hand. “No. I can’t keep hiding it forever. Please stay, Candace.”
She sat back down and gave me the sweetest smile.
“I’m guessing that Bishop never told you the main reason I left,” I said.
Greer and Arabella both shook their heads.
I glanced down to see that I had been pulling at the bottom of my sweater. I forced myself to stop and looked back up at them. “About a month before I, um…well, before I left…I had a miscarriage.”
Greer brought her hand up to her mouth and Arabella instantly teared up.
“We hadn’t told anyone about the baby yet, because I wanted to wait until I was out of the first trimester. We were supposed to tell everyone that very night, at a barbeque dinner we had planned for everyone. But I ended up going to the hospital instead.”
“I remember that night,” Greer whispered.
Looking over at Arabella, I said, “I was going to tell you before the dinner, since you had declined the invitation.”
She wiped a tear away. “Bishop called later, said you had food poisoning or something and were terribly sick.”
My jaw ached from trying not to cry. Lord, was this going to be my life from now on? Fighting not to cry?
“I asked him not to…” I sniffled and suddenly a napkin appeared in front me, then Greer, then Arabella. Candace had gone and gotten them for each of us. “Thank you, Candace.”
All she did was nod and sit back down.
Attempting to regain some composure, I went on. “I asked Bishop not to tell anyone. For some crazy reason, I thought it would be better. That if no one knew, they wouldn’t ask me anything about the baby or if I was okay. I was eleven weeks along.”
Arabella took both of my hands in hers.
“The first week, all I did was cry. Bishop was, of course, right there by my side. The second week, I was so angry. Then it switched to utter shame, because I blamed myself.”