IF I CAN'T HAVE YOU (The Thorntons #3)

Chapter 2-1

2

After arriving home, Abby wanted a drink and then to sleep for the rest of her life. She was beyond exhausted: not only because of her run-in with Mark, but the three patients who'd taken all her concentration and training afterward.

The worst patient had been the homeless man who had shouted at her when she wouldn't tell Dr. Smythe to get him more painkillers. He'd stumbled out of the hospital before they'd cleared him to leave. Abby knew he'd return before long.

She smiled when her two cats, Darcy and Wentworth, were at the door when she came inside. Both black cats, you could only tell them apart because Wentworth had a smudge of white on his chest. They always came to greet her when they heard her car pull up.

Wentworth stood on his hind legs, his paws on her knee, begging for an ear scratch. Darcy swished his tail, acting aloof, but when Abby scratched his chin, he started purring.

"Come on, let's go get something to eat," she said to the cats, who followed her into the kitchen. After feeding the felines, she fixed herself a plate of leftovers and decided that she'd watch some stupid reality show before turning in. Sipping her wine, she told herself to forget about what had happened today.

But even the shenanigans of some crazy brides on TV weren't enough to keep her from thinking about her deal with Mark Thornton.

"I've lost my mind," she said to Wentworth when he climbed onto her lap. "I should be committed. Or maybe Mark should be. He's off his rocker. Who does something like that?"

Wentworth purred and closed his eyes as she petted him.

Abby didn't know if Mark needed someone to help him. Maybe he did, or maybe he just wanted to screw with her. He didn't want to screw her, like she'd initially thought. Of course not.

She wasn't a woman to inspire insatiable lust in men, generally speaking. She didn't consider that a bad thing, per se, but sometimes it stung.

Was it so wrong to want someone to want her for once?

Her ex-boyfriend Derek had made a point to tell her he'd never really wanted her. She'd been convenient, he'd said. Abby knew he'd said that because he was pissed she'd wanted to end things; he'd wanted to hurt her, and he'd succeeded. Logically, she knew that. But emotionally? It had struck a nerve.

Who would want a fattie like you? I didn't get with you for your looks, he'd said during one particularly brutal argument.

She'd countered that if he'd found her so unattractive, why had he begged her to go on a date with him when they'd first met?

"Men are idiots," she said to no one except her cats. They were the only men in her life she trusted. At least cats were honest about only caring about themselves. She respected their unapologetic selfishness.

When her phone rang, she groaned, because only one person called her instead of texted.

"Hi Mom," she said. She knew Fiona would want to grill her more about her new (and imaginary) boyfriend.

"Oh good, you're home. I thought you had a late shift tonight." Abby could hear the excitement in Fiona's voice. "We barely got a chance to chat earlier. I want you to tell me everything."

Abby almost laughed. If only she could tell Fiona everything! Her mother would sure get a kick out of her daughter having a made-up boyfriend, wouldn't she?

Guilt assailed her. She was lying, and continuing to lie. But now that she'd started this, she had to see it through to the bitter end. Or I could tell Mark the deal's off.

"You know the Thorntons, right?" was what Abby said instead.

"Of course I do. Although I don't know much about your Mark. What does he do? Where did you meet? When did you decide to make things official?"

Abby realized she didn't know a thing about him. She needed to rectify that if she were going to play his girlfriend.

Geez, I'm a terrible person, aren't I?

Abby told her mother what she did know about Mark, which was not very much. When Fiona pressed for details about how they'd started dating, Abby remained coy.

"Mark doesn't like his personal business out in the open," she said. She imagined he'd agree with that statement.

"Oh, come on! Don't be like that. I've been waiting for this ever since you and Derek broke up. I was afraid you'd never date again. I know your breakup was hard on you—"

"Let's not talk about Derek right now." Abby looked down at Wentworth, whose eyes were slits, like he were judging her. "Actually, I wanted to let you know that I'll be living with Mark for a time to help him, since he broke his arm."

Abby didn't know how Fiona would react to that announcement. Dismay, excitement? Disapproval? But when Fiona let out an ear-splitting scream, Abby had to hold the phone away from her ear.

"You're moving in with him? Already? I can't believe it!" Fiona cried. "You should've told me right away!"

"It's not like that—it's temporary. He asked me to help him."

"Doesn't matter! This is a big step for you, although it does seem fast. Are you sure about this?"

No, I'm not sure about much of anything anymore. "Oh, totally sure."

After giving Fiona as many details as she could, they said goodbye, Fiona assuring Abby that this sounded like an amazing chance for her to "seal the deal."

Fiona Davison had raised Abby by herself after Abby's father had passed away when she was a small child. Abby couldn't blame her mother for wanting her to find happiness with a marriage and a family. The depressing thing was that Abby did want a husband and children, but she had come to accept that there was little to no chance that would happen.

She finished her wine and got another glass before she got ready for bed. Lately, she avoided mirrors, but tonight, she gazed at herself without flinching. Standing there naked after her bath, she took in her light brown hair and her light brown eyes.

She looked pale, which she attributed to stress. She'd lost weight recently, although not because she'd been trying to. Turning this way and that, she looked at her breasts—overly large, in her opinion—and the curve of her belly. The stretch marks, the cellulite. She plucked a hair from a mole behind her knee.

Her ass was decent, but nothing amazing. She had nice toes, she supposed.

Darcy hopped onto the counter and butted her hand with his head. She petted him, her thoughts far away.

Two years ago, when she'd still been dating Derek, she'd thought she was pregnant because she'd missed her period for two months. She'd always had irregular periods, and although she and Derek had always used condoms, she'd wondered if one hadn't worked.

After the pregnancy test had come back negative, her doctor had done further tests to discover why her periods had disappeared. As a nurse, Abby knew a woman could stop menstruating if she were stressed, too thin, or a host of other reasons besides pregnancy.

After blood tests and an ultrasound, her doctor had told she had Polycystic Ovarian Syndrome, PCOS for short.

"It's actually very common," he'd said in his prosaic tones, "but most women haven't heard of it, unless they're diagnosed with it. Based on the cysts on your ovaries and your being overweight, I would be surprised if you could get pregnant naturally at all. You also have a bicornuate uterus, meaning that it's heart-shaped. That will make it even more difficult to conceive. If you do get pregnant, there's double the chance of miscarriage as well. Diet and exercise, plus going on the Pill, are our best course of action for now."

Abby had found it ironic that, even though she was a nurse, she'd never thought she had something wrong with her. She'd heard of PCOS before, but she'd never studied it extensively.

It had been surreal, hearing those words said in the same way you'd say, There's a sale on potatoes at the store or I need a ride to work tomorrow morning. Her dreams of having a family someday, dashed in an instant. Although her diagnosis wasn't a definitive one, her doctor hadn't seemed hopeful.

Abby had returned home, devastated and terrified, and she'd cried the rest of the evening.

Derek had been sympathetic, to a degree. She'd seen the look in his eyes when she'd told him about her inability to have children. He hadn't said the words, but after that, their relationship had never recovered. Suddenly, the dreams of the future had shattered, until everything had fallen apart.

I want to be with a woman who can have kids, Derek had told her that last day. Sorry, Abby. I don't want to adopt some other people's kids, either. You know what I mean, right?

After her mirror perusal, Abby got dressed for bed and crawled underneath the covers. She almost couldn't blame Derek. Her body couldn't do what it should do. She knew she was more than a body made to carry a baby, but the hurt pierced her heart anyway.

She was abnormal. Broken.

She hadn't told Fiona about her diagnosis. It would've hurt her too much. And although Abby knew that ignoring a diagnosis was hardly the best course of action, she preferred not to think about it. If she didn't think about it, maybe it wasn't real.

It was good that Mark didn't want her, she decided. Because what were the chances he'd stay with her if he discovered the truth?

He might not be as cruel as Derek, but she'd see the shadow in his eyes. The disappointment. The judgment.

It was better this way, she told herself as she tried to fall asleep.