Page 103 of Dream Weaver
I got it, but wasn’t she kind of overreacting?
“Every parent deserves a little time to themselves,” I said. “One night off while your kid is at a sleepover doesn’t make you a bad mother.”
“But I forgot her. Totally. How could I forget my own daughter? Oh God…”
“You didn’t forget her. You knew she was okay, so you let yourself relax for a while.”
“Sure. Relax.” She kicked her legs into her jeans, then rummaged around for her socks and boots. “So much, I let my brain turn off.” She stopped long enough to bury with her face in her hands. “God, how could I be so irresponsible?”
That was when it dawned on me that this wasn’t about her and Claire.
“Abby, you’re not irresponsible. And you are not your father.”
“You bet your ass, I’m not!” She jumped to her feet. “But instead of putting my daughter first, I’ve been messing around with a guy…”
My gut dropped, and I growled. “This wasn’t messing around. This was more than that, and you know it.”
My heart hammered. Surely I wasn’t the only one who felt that way?
But Abby was not to be reasoned with. She went back to fumbling with her boots, muttering the whole time. “Do I? How can I be sure?”
Now, that hurt. Still, I did my best to keep my cool.
“Because I’m not Jay.”
That stopped her cold, and she shot me a long, mournful look. “I know you’re not. But I’m me, and I make mistakes.”
“This wasn’t a mistake.”
“What if it was?”
“I swear, it isn’t.” My heart and soul went into those words, and hope caught in my throat.
Abby looked at me a moment longer. Then a bird whistled outside, and she gave herself a shake. “I have to go.”
I wanted to scream. Go — now?
Her eyes were huge. Sad. Regretful.
“You don’t have to,” I insisted, willing her back into my arms.
She could stay. We could talk. She would get herself together and see this didn’t have to be a big deal.
But I was just a bear shifter, not a magician.
Abby turned and headed out the door, whispering, “I have to.”
Do something!my bear yelled.
“Please, Abby. Don’t g—”
The door slammed.
My legs burned to run after her. To stop her before it was too late.
But Abby was a mustang with one scar too many. Forcing her would only make things worse.
Outside, her car roared to life, then died. She cursed, then started it a second time. Seconds later, gravel scattered.
