That would be Abigail one day, playing with her baby girl. Vaughn wanted to be in that picture of the future with her. With her child.
“I will.”
“She deserves your support.” Hutch swung to face him, mopping a towel over his head while Ruby waited for another turn to retrieve the old tennis ball, her tail wagging slowly.
“I—” He didn’t know how to admit how badly he’d screwed up. “I wanted to make things work with her. She’s the most...” He couldn’t even come up with the words to describe Abigail. She was so beautiful, inside and out. So warmhearted and generous. A bright light to everyone around her. “The most incredible woman I’ve ever met. But I panicked when I heard about the baby.”
Shame and remorse filled him. She deserved a better man than him. That was the only facet of the breakup he didn’t regret. She should be with someone who would be there for her no matter what.
“What do you mean?” Hutch pulled two oranges out of his cooler and passed one to Vaughn. “As in, you’re not ready to be a dad?”
“No. That’s not it.” Taking the orange, he started to peel it, understanding in retrospect what had made him run. “I am already attached to that baby. But what kind of partner will I make for Abigail when I need to run home and hide out with Ruby every time life gets tough?” Breaking off a section of the orange, he shook his head, more certain than ever of his decision. “If Ruby hadn’t been there during the ultrasound, I might have lost it.”
He didn’t understand how to deal with his emotions anymore. They came at him too fast, too hard, and they carried memories of times he didn’t want to remember. And no matter how much therapy he underwent, he couldn’t imagine his future being any different.
“But you didn’t,” Hutch reminded him. “And if there’s anything in life worth breaking down over, it’s your kids.” The toughest competitor on any Royal Memorial sports team pounded his fist lightly against his chest. “I don’t mind telling you I would lose it if someone said my kids were in danger. That’s the worst life can dish out, man. And you dealt with it.”
Hutch took pity on Ruby and threw her another ball. The dog ran like the wind and leaped to catch it.
Vaughn hung his head, wishing he were a different man. A better one. “I dealt with it by telling Abigail I wasn’t ready for more. By walking away when she needed me most.”
“It didn’t come easy for Simone and me, either,” Hutch admitted while the doubles match nearby got underway. “All I know is that if you regret breaking things off, you should tell her.”
“How would she trust me after that?” Vaughn would not hurt her again. He couldn’t do that to someone he loved. The thought stopped him up short.
Loved?
Hell yes, loved.
On some level he’d known it this week when he’d felt like his heart had been ripped out of his chest with missing her. But now, there was no more hiding from the truth. He loved Abigail.
Hutch said nothing. Waited.
“I wouldn’t trust me,” Vaughn answered the question for him. He couldn’t ask that of her, either. “Not after how I walked out on her.”
“Maybe not,” Hutch agreed easily, packing up his bag and tossing his orange peel in the trash. “But you’re not Abigail. She might see something in you—something better—that you can’t.”
Promising a rematch soon, his tennis partner strode away from the courts toward the clubhouse.
Leaving Ruby and Vaughn alone.
He needed to shower and head into work. He was taking another doctor’s afternoon shift—the trade for having the day off when he’d gone to the ultrasound appointment.
Packing up his tennis bag, he noticed a clubhouse staff member headed his way, carrying a package.
“Dr. Chambers,” the younger man called to him. “I’m one of the valets.”
“Is there a problem with my car?” Vaughn asked. He couldn’t afford to be late for work.
“No, sir.” The liveried staffer thrust the package toward him. “Someone named Brandon dropped this off for you. He said he thought it might be important.”
Vaughn took the brown-wrapped paper box and noted the return address that had come by special shipment. Abigail Stewart.
Curious and trying not to feel too hopeful, he handed the valet a few bills and started tearing open the paper.
“Um. Sir?” The valet hadn’t gone away.
Vaughn kept tearing the paper, finding a box inside. “Was there anything else?”
“You gave me all twenties.” The valet looked perplexed as he stared at the tip.
With good reason. Vaughn hadn’t even noticed what he was giving him.
“Keep it.” The package in his hand represented the only bright spot in the last week, and he wasn’t the kind of man who took money out of the hands of someone who’d helped him. “This was important.”
The guy—a local college student, he guessed—grinned from ear to ear. “Thank you, sir. I’ll share it with my partner out front who covered for me.”
Once he was alone, Vaughn turned back to the box, dropping onto the bench again to open it. Ruby stared at it with him, setting aside her tennis ball, as if she knew how important a package from Abigail might be.
His throat burned, emotions creeping up on him fast. What if she was simply returning some personal possession he’d left behind? Something that fell out of his pocket at her house?
But it felt too heavy to be something he would have ever left at her place. Shoving aside the tissue paper, he found a note penned in careful, artistic calligraphy.
We are here for you.
The words—so unexpected—made his eyes burn along with his throat. Only this time, the burn was good. Hopeful. Hope-filled.
Tearing through more tissue, he saw a wood carving inside. He lifted it out
