My Only Wish (15 page)

“I don’t know what to believe anymore.” Her shoulders slumped. “I don’t know what to think, or what to feel.”

He reached forward, gripping her shoulders, willing her to look at him. “Just let me be with you.”

“I don’t know if I can.”

When she looked up, fresh tears in her eyes, he felt as if a sword had sliced him open. “Abby, don’t. Don’t cry. I can’t bear it.” His voice was hoarse as he moved to wipe her tears.

“I love you. But I can’t trust you.”

Her declaration surged through him, lighting fires throughout his body. “You can. I’ve never lied to you.”

“Not telling me was a lie.”

Panic began to choke him. He felt her moving away from him, and he somehow knew that there was no way he could bring her back. “Please, Abby. I need you.”

“I can’t do this. You need to leave.” She backed away from him, her arms wrapped around her waist as if she were trying to hold herself together. “I can’t take this anymore.”

“Let me—”

“Please. Just go.”

The hand he had held out for her dropped. She wanted him gone, out of her life. “Tell me one thing. How did you get that bottle?” The question was out of his mouth, but he already knew. There was only one other person who had had access to it. Charisse. He hadn’t given her enough credit. This one act was enough to destroy him.

“I don’t know. It was anonymous.”

He sighed, his heart aching as they looked at each other, both wondering where this left them. “I’ll leave now because you’ve asked it of me. But know that this isn’t over.”

She nodded. “I understand.”

With a last look, he left, moving numbly as he made his way to the car. The hollowness followed him, mocking him with every step he took.

He loved her. Loved her with all his being. This wasn’t the end. It couldn’t be. He wouldn’t let it.

He hadn’t meant to hurt her. Hadn’t realized how important this would be to her. He wanted to curse himself for not realizing, for not thinking it significant enough to tell her.

He could have prevented this.

But it wasn’t over. She could have tonight. But he would make her forgive him tomorrow.

It had all seemed so easy in his mind, but after three days of not being able to reach her, he knew he was losing her.

The panic that he had felt after she reject his calls the day after, not answering his messages sent him into a frenzy.

The next day, when he had gone her apartment and she wouldn’t speak with him, he felt an icy fear settle over his heart.

He had tried flowers the next day, only to find out that she had rejected them.

He didn’t know what to do short of marching back to her apartment, standing outside and yelling to her that he wouldn’t leave until she spoke with him. But he knew that wouldn’t work either.

As the sun set on Christmas Eve, Dylan, looking out the windows from his home, his hair disheveled, his face sporting three days’ growth of a beard, felt the despair, the hollowness of loss.

How had this happened? Why hadn’t she believed him?

But he knew how it had happened. He knew that the spitefulness of one woman had destroyed the most precious thing in his life. And his thoughtlessness had helped.

She had told him that she loved him. The thought still brought an ache when he recalled her words. He had wanted to tell her that he loved her in return. That he always would. But he had known even then that it wouldn’t matter. She wouldn’t have believed him.

If he had told her about her letter earlier, would this have happened? Or would they have laughed about it, moving forward in their relationship? What-if’s crammed his mind, but they didn’t bring peace. Only torment.

He would never know.

Pounding his fist against the thick glass, he cursed fate.

He had finally found the person he couldn’t live without, the person he would always love. He had finally seen a bright light in his life. And he had yearned for it. Now he was empty, bereft now that he knew what he was missing.

What could he do? If she wouldn’t speak to him, how could he make this right? How could he win her back?

Glancing down at his desk, he picked up the sparkling engagement ring he had purchased the day after they had returned from New York. The single diamond, nestled among smaller stones, fired in the low lights, taunting him with lost dreams.

He knew that he had been hasty purchasing it, but he hadn’t cared. Nothing had ever felt more right than thinking about marrying Abby. And now she was lost.

All because of one bottle, one little letter to Santa, and one jealous ex-girlfriend. Something so small, having such a great impact on his life, seemed ridiculous.

But wasn’t that what Christmas was about? Miracles, small wishes, family and friends. Abby had wished for love, and whether or not she believed it, she had found it.

He loved her with a depth and passion that he had never felt before. Her Christmas wish had been granted.

Could one of his own?

He didn’t have anything else to lose at this point. His heart couldn’t feel more bruised than it did now.

With a madness that seemed to overwhelm him, he dug out a piece of paper, writing his own letter to Santa. Pouring out his heart and his own wish until he felt purged, exhausted from his feelings. Without an empty bottle, he grabbed a bottle of wine, uncaring which vintage it was as he poured out the contents, washing and drying it before placing his own letter inside.

Finished, he crawled into bed, praying for a few hours of sleep before the dawn of Christmas came. Only then would he’d go out and toss his wish in the ocean, hoping that someone, or something, would hear his wish and grant it.

Chapter 11

Abby hadn’t slept much the night before. Tossing and turning as her heart ached. Dylan had been trying to speak with her for three days, and she had turned him away, unable to face him.

She’d taken the time to reflect over what had happened over the last month. To think about the letter she had written, of what had developed because of it.

In her car, she hugged the curves of the canyon that led to the beach. That led to Tower 1 where it all began.

She had been angry when she had learned that Dylan had found the letter, thinking he had used it to make a fool of her. But as the days had passed, she realized that no matter what Dylan had done, no matter what his intentions had been, her wish had been granted.

She pulled into the deserted lot, parking in the first spot closest to the tower. Getting out of her car, she walked toward the structure, the late-December sand cold beneath her shoes.

Her wish, so desperately thrown into the water, had been granted. She had found someone she could love, had found someone to share the holidays with. Someone she could spend the rest of her life with.

He may not have been in love with her, but that didn’t matter now. What mattered was that she had loved. That she had grown, had experienced a love so blinding, so deep, that she was changed.

They may not have ended up together, but she would forever be grateful to him.

Maybe that’s what she should say to him. Thank him for everything. But it seemed too trivial. Perhaps it was better that she not see him again. To break cleanly from it all.

She was like this beach. Overcast, empty. But people would eventually come, filling up the lots, parking their coolers, towels, and umbrellas on the sand, running headlong in the water. This feeling of hollowness, of loneliness, would pass. Others would come into her life, and while she may never feel this aching love for another, she was grateful that she had had it once.

Looking out to the water, wondering what her life would be like, how she would go on after loving someone so deeply and not having that love returned, she didn’t hear the car that pulled into the lot, nor see the man that stepped out, faltering in his movements when he saw her leaning against the tower.

“Abby.” Her name was a whisper on the breeze, and she closed her eyes, her heart aching as she recognized Dylan’s voice. He was here. Had come to the beach where she had launched her dreams.

“Hello, Dylan,” she said, trying to give him a friendly smile as she turned to face him. It didn’t quite reach her eyes.

“I didn’t expect to see you here.”

“No. I imagine you didn’t.” She looked at his windswept face, memorizing each feature, sealing them away in her mind. He looked tired, just as she felt. Perhaps this last meeting, where they could part as friends, was for the best. “I’m glad you’re here though.”

“You are?” His eyes moved to hers.

“Yes. I’m sorry that I haven’t returned your calls. I just needed time.”

He stepped forward. “Abby, I want you to know that I never meant to hurt you.”

“I know that.” She saw a flash of disbelief in his eyes and wanted to soothe him. “Honestly, I know that you never meant to. I’ve known you for awhile now. I don’t think you would purposely cause me pain.”

“I wouldn’t. I’ve missed you so much over the last few days. It’s been killing me.”

“Me too.” She turned away, searching the ocean for answers. “But it isn’t enough.”

“What isn’t?”

“Don’t you see? It will never be the same now.”

He nodded slowly. “No it won’t. I don’t want it to be.”

She gulped, trying to fight back the pain after hearing him end it. She turned back to him, a wobbly smile on her face. “I understand. I hope we can part as friends.”

“Friends?” He looked confused.

Her gut clenched. She couldn’t stand the thought of them meaning nothing to each other. “Yes. At least I hope so. Don’t you?”

“Of course we’re friends.” Her body sighed in relief. “But I want to be more than that.”

She didn’t think it was possible, but her heart broke a little more. How could they build anything on such a flawed foundation? They were friends, as he said himself, but there were lies between them, secrets that made trust difficult. “I don’t know if I can.”

“And I can’t let you go.”

She took a deep, bracing breath of salt air, nothing could be resolved now. Time would only tell what would happen between them. She began to tell him so, only her eyes narrowed on what he was holding.

Another bottle?

“Why do you have that?”

He looked down at it, slowly lifting it between them. “I was going to throw it into the ocean.” He waited until her eyes met his. “Someone else threw a bottle into the ocean a while ago, with a letter to Santa. If her wish was granted, I wondered, even on Christmas Day, if my own could be as well.”

Her mouth opened and closed, but she couldn’t find the words. He was making his own wish? Tossing it into the water?

“Would you like to read it?” He held the bottle out to her.

Reaching out, she gripped the cool glass, spying a rolled up piece of paper in the dark depths. Her heart began to race as she took the paper out, and she wondered if it might leap out of her chest.

Her breath caught as she began to read his words.

Dear Santa,

I’m in love with a woman who is more amazing and kind than anyone I’ve ever met. She wished to find a love, true and lasting, for Christmas this year, and I found her wish. I love her with all of my heart, but I’ve also hurt her.