ABBY, page 13
My plan for the evening is thrown out the window. But that’s what Abby does to me – she takes over my body like a fucking hurricane. You’d think after all the years of escort work I did that I could control myself better, but not when it comes to Abby. The second our bodies blend together, I am at her mercy and I love it. I wouldn’t change a thing about the power she has over me.
“I really don’t want to do this,” I tell Latch, sitting in front of the toilet.
“Why, because you’re hungover, or because you don’t want to see Dr. Rosland?”
I throw up again and he holds my hair back.
“Damn, girl, I drank more than you did.”
“Don’t patronize me, Latch.” I look up at him and he lets go of my hair, passing me a tissue. “Ohhhh, fuck, it hurts!” I complain.
“Come on,” he urges me up and brushes my hair out of my face.
“Just once more?” I ask.
“No, you don’t have anything left to throw up.” He carries me to the kitchen and sets me on the countertop. Looking in the fridge, he asks me, “Why don’t we have anything greasy in here?”
“I don’t know, but I really don’t think I want to eat right now.”
“It’ll help. Trust me! What about the burrito guy?” Latch asks and then looks out the window, trying to spot if he’s on the corner or not.
“No, just make me some toast.”
“You want another drink? That might do the trick,” he teases me and I could slap him with that comment. The thought alone makes me dry heave over the sink. He shakes his head and grabs the bread.
“What?” I ask as he is staring at me, my mouth gaping open, not my finest moment, that’s for sure.
“Nothing,” he responds and I rinse my mouth out.
“Could we just see Dr. Rosland tomorrow?”
“No way, he’s squeezing us in today. Suck it up, girl.”
“Thanks,” I glare at him as he butters my toast then hands me a plate with two pieces on it. I look down at the bland food, but know I need something in my stomach to absorb the rest of the alcohol.
“I’m never drinking again,” I tell him as I choke down the toast.
“Sure, you’re not. Until I buy that wine again.”
“You’re not buying it.”
“Oh, yes, I will!”
Rolling my eyes at Latch as I finish the toast and fill a cup with water, he asks me, “Ready?”
“I guess.”
He kisses me and quickly pulls away. “Oh, fuck, go use mouthwash!”
I flip him off as I walk back to the bathroom, swishing the minty liquid around my mouth. Bracing myself on the sink, thankful that my stomach feels settled, I can’t help but look down at the ring on my hand. It sparkles in the light, taking me back to yesterday when Latch got down on one knee. It was by far the last thing I expected him to do, but it was the greatest surprise I could ever ask for.
Walking out to the living room, Latch is texting on his phone. “Who’s that?” I ask and grab a coat as it’s a little rainy today. “My grandma.”
“She wants to throw us an engagement party.”
“Uhhh, who would come?”
“I think it’s more for her, babe.”
I would have to agree with Latch. On the way home last night, we stopped by her house and she about jumped out of her skin, she was so thrilled and excited that he asked me so soon after she gave him the ring.
Walking out, we hop in Maris’ car, which we borrowed last night so we could begin our house hunting in Connecticut. “How’s it feel to drive again?” I ask Latch.
“It’s fine.”
“You’re not tense at all?”
“No, what happened with Darrell isn’t going to change me.”
I smile, watching the way he grips the wheel with easy confidence and find myself drifting back to that day. To the day that did forever change our lives. But what matters is how we let it affect us now. Do we live, letting it define who we are? Or is it just a scar, that every so often we’re reminded of, but for the most part is tucked beneath our clothing?
Pulling up to Dr. Rosland’s building, we somehow find a spot, which Latch backs into like a pro. Getting out, I pop a few coins in the meter and then we head inside. My stomach is a ball of nerves mixed with the leftover alcohol and toast, and I’m not sure how I’m going to make it through this.
Before we enter, Latch stops me on the sidewalk and cups my cheek, underlying concern imprinted on his face. “Thank you for doing this today, baby.”
“Of course,” I respond and hope that the reality of the news we are about to get doesn’t break him, the way it did me when I found out the truth so long ago.
“Hi Francine,” Latch says, smiling at the older woman who runs the front desk.
“Latch! Abby! Dr. Rosland said he was expecting you today. Come right this way.”
She opens the door for us to walk back and then says, “If you could please wait in room two, and Abby, if you can leave a quick urine sample in the bathroom.”
“Why?” I ask.
“Dr. Rosland wants to see if you’re ovulating.”
I oblige, stepping into the sterile bathroom and write my name on a label before I affix it to the side of the small cup that I quickly pee into and leave behind the tin door. Heading out, I find Latch in the room and he smiles when he sees me. “God, this is like déjà vu, huh?”
He looks around, holding my hand in his. “It really is.”
I can’t help but stare at the screen that not so long ago brought us so much joy. The same screen that showed us our baby boy for the first time. Nervously, I fidget with my necklace and Latch stops me, placing his hand over mine.
“Don’t! Let the past go. Today is a new day, baby.”
I nod and Dr. Rosland pulls me back to the present walking in with a huge smile on his face. “How are you guys?” he asks, sitting across from us, with genuine concern.
“We’re good,” Latch responds and I nod in agreement.
“Good. Listen, I know you’ve been through a lot. But I wanted to make sure we were all on the same page here. The ultimate goal is to get pregnant again, right?”
“Right,” Latch says.
“Abby?” Dr. Rosland asks me.
“Yes, that’s the goal. But I’ve been through all this fertility testing before and was diagnosed with Polycystic Ovarian Syndrome a few years back.”
“But you got pregnant in the past, right?”
I agree, not able to push that aside.
“Then, why don’t you think it can happen again?”
“My body doesn’t produce eggs.”
Dr. Rosland scoots closer, looking both Latch and I in the eye before saying, “That is true. But there are cases in women with PCOS where their bodies will produce a mature egg every so often, and I believe that is what you’re experiencing.”
“And you know that from a urine test?” I laugh awkwardly.
“No, I know that because you’re pregnant!”
I swallow, not believing the words. My bottom lips quivers as I try and process what he just said. “What?”
“Yup, I ran an ovulation and pregnancy test, completely routine, and you guys are pregnant. Again.”
“Holy fuck!” Latch shouts, grabbing my face, his eyes glazed with the most glorious tears I’ve ever seen. “Are you sure?” he asks.
“Yes.”
I’m stunned, not believing the news. There can’t be a way that this is possible. Then Latch drops to his knees, touching my stomach, and all of my worries wash away. He whispers into the fabric of my clothing, sobbing, and I touch the back of his hair holding him against me, praying that this time…our dreams do come true.
As I lean forward and turn the recorder off on my cell phone, I can see the love between Latch and Abby. It’s something beautiful, so pure and genuine. He rubs a stray tear away from under her right eye and I look down closing my book of notes as the Prezident kisses my cheek.
“I know this has been really hard for you guys, and we want to thank you both for going back and reliving everything you went through.”
Abby swallows and says, “Thank you for pushing us to share our story with the world. If anything, at the end of the day, I hope we can inspire people to follow their hearts.”
I look next to me at the Prezident – he and I have been working on this story for the last three years, and after so long, I think we finally got it right.
“Are you ever going to come forward and reveal your true identities?”
Latch shakes his head before Abby can answer, and the Prezident says, “Damn, I was hoping I could drag your ass to some signings with me.”
We all laugh and Latch says, “Not a chance, man, that’s your world. You’re on your own.”
“Come on, the readers love you, brother,” the Prezident says.
“I’ve got all the ladies I need right here.”
The Prezident knows there is no convincing Latch. They grew up together. Their fathers ran in the same club, so they’ve always been close.
Just then, Maris comes through the front door and says, “I’m sorry to interrupt you guys, but you have to hear this.”
“It’s okay, we just finished,” I tell her as Matilda and Anne, Latch and Abby’s twin girls named after their mothers, barge through the door arguing. Abby flies off the couch to stop them, and Maris sits next to Latch with their nine-month-old son, Landis, in her arms.
“Does that mean dinner at my place?” She lives next door to them on the coast of Connecticut and I tell her, “Absolutely!” loving her cooking so much. She really is amazing in the kitchen.
“Hey, little man,” Latch says, and the baby giggles, all drooly and cute. Then Abby comes back and sits next to Latch.
Maris says, “Who is this, Landis?” she points to Latch and Latch pokes his belly, causing the baby to laugh hysterically. Then as clear as day Landis says, “Dada!”
Latch grins like a maniac and takes the baby into his arms, holding him close to his chest. Abby wraps her arms around her two guys, savoring such a precious moment. And as we watch this family together, these people that have so bravely shared their story with the world, they have truly become the Prezident and I’s greatest friends and we couldn’t be more proud to be a part of their journey!
William, how do I ever thank you for making Latch and Abby’s story a reality? I’m not sure how you did it and I’m forever grateful. Thank you for tearing this book apart so it spoke true to Latch and Abby. I owe so much to you and want you to know how much your help and support mean to me. I love you so much, baby, to the moon and back!
Lisa, we did it! And we did it beautifully. Thank you for all of your help and guidance in developing a solid conclusion to LATCH. I’m not sure how I got so lucky to be able to work with an editor like you, but I did, and I wouldn’t change a single thing. You are so talented with every single one of my stories you touch. I can’t wait to see what the future has in store. Love ya, lady!
Leticia and Janice, you ladies are the world’s best proofreaders. Thank you for taking on yet another one of my books and seeing it through to perfection. I love you both and appreciate you more than you’ll ever know.
I have to give a special shout out to all my crazies, especially the craziest, Crystal – thank you for keeping me in line and my head on straight while I wrapped this book up. You have been a tremendous help to me and I am so very appreciative. And to all of you that read an ARC of ABBY and took the time to share your thoughts and emotions with me, it meant so much to me. That is why I write – to make you all happy and give you that satisfied and fulfilled feeling. The support you all have shown me is amazing. Thank you all from the bottom of my heart!
Last but absolutely and certainly not least, to all the readers, reviewers, and bloggers, I hope that you loved ABBY and it was the conclusion to LATCH you were hoping for. If you’d like to leave a review on Amazon, both the Prezident and I read every single one of them. We’d love to hear your thoughts!
Be sure to add my next book, The Arrogant Architect, to your Goodreads TBR. It will be released in August 2016
goodreads.com/book/show/31146263-the-arrogant-architect
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LK Collins, ABBY
