must have witnessed or heard about Abby's weak moment.
If she had, the girl kept her secret; and it wasn't the only secret she and Abby shared. "So you think Molly's really okay?" Colleen asked. "That she just needs time, like her note said?"
Abby's guilt increased. Instead of thinking about Molly, she'd been thinking about her friend's brother. She reached into her purse and checked her cell phone. "No messages."
Brenna shook her head. "I think she meant that she needed more than a few hours."
Colleen sighed. "She also said she wanted time alone. Do you really believe she's alone? When I called Eric, he said he hadn't seen her, but..."
"Eric would lie for her," Brenna said of their fourth friend, the one who'd skipped the wedding entirely. They'd all called him., but he claimed he hadn't seen the runaway bride.
"He'd do more than lie," Abby reminded them. She doubted that much had changed in eight years.
"So we're pretty sure we know where she is," Brenna agreed. "What do we do now?"
"Nothing." Which was exactly what Abby intended to do about Clayton. She'd be gone soon, and they'd never have to see each other again. Unlike the rest of his family, he had never come to visit her since she'd left town. He'd never even called. Despite the kiss, she doubted anything had really changed between them.
"What?" Brenna's voice went deep when she asked the question, as if she were in pain.
"I told you what her note said," Abby said. She hadn't shown it to them—they didn't need to know that Molly wanted her to stay. She wasn't sure she could fulfill that particular request, but she fully intended to honor Molly's first request and make sure that everyone else honored Molly's request for time alone, too. "Ever since her dad died, she's been so focused on college and then on medical school. She's pushed herself so hard that I think maybe she just burned out. She wants time alone to think, and with luck she'll rest and figure out what she really wants."
"But she's probably not alone," Colleen reminded them. She'd always been a little jealous of Eric's interest in her older sister. Heck, she'd always been a little jealous of Molly, who'd always been so close to perfect.
Abby had thought being bad was tough, but it had probably been worse to be Molly and have that constant pressure to be the best. She wasn't surprised that Mol had finally cracked and run away. Abby had had a lot less pressure and had run a lot longer ago.
"If she's not alone—" a smile tugged at Abby's lips "—there's even less reason to worry about her. She's safe. She's fine. She'll be back when she's ready."
Brenna sighed. "I hope she doesn't take as long as you did to come home."
Abby would have protested that she wasn't home, but she could see Clayton moving through the crowd toward them. "I have to go," she told her friends, before vanishing through the open door.
A headache pounded behind Clayton's eyes, nagging like a hangover despite the fact he'd had only one glass of champagne the night before, when he'd toasted Abby's return. Then, of course, he'd also had that sip of Rory's punch. But the hangover wasn't from drinking. He was hungover from the kiss.
He hadn't slept at all. He'd have liked to blame Molly, because he'd been too worried about her to sleep. Or Rory, for continually testing him. Or maybe he just wasn't used to having a houseguest. The best man, Nick Jameson, had slept in Clayton's spare room, since it had been too late for him to drive back to Grand Rapids after the reception.
With a cup of fresh-brewed coffee in his hand, Clayton headed to the loft's living room with the two-story-high windows looking down on Main Street. The first rays of morning sun reflected off the glass, momentarily blinding Clayton. Not that there was anything to see this early on a Sunday morning. No one was even up for church yet.
Squinting, Clayton peered out through the slats of his wooden blinds. While nothing moved on the street below his apartment,
If she had, the girl kept her secret; and it wasn't the only secret she and Abby shared. "So you think Molly's really okay?" Colleen asked. "That she just needs time, like her note said?"
Abby's guilt increased. Instead of thinking about Molly, she'd been thinking about her friend's brother. She reached into her purse and checked her cell phone. "No messages."
Brenna shook her head. "I think she meant that she needed more than a few hours."
Colleen sighed. "She also said she wanted time alone. Do you really believe she's alone? When I called Eric, he said he hadn't seen her, but..."
"Eric would lie for her," Brenna said of their fourth friend, the one who'd skipped the wedding entirely. They'd all called him., but he claimed he hadn't seen the runaway bride.
"He'd do more than lie," Abby reminded them. She doubted that much had changed in eight years.
"So we're pretty sure we know where she is," Brenna agreed. "What do we do now?"
"Nothing." Which was exactly what Abby intended to do about Clayton. She'd be gone soon, and they'd never have to see each other again. Unlike the rest of his family, he had never come to visit her since she'd left town. He'd never even called. Despite the kiss, she doubted anything had really changed between them.
"What?" Brenna's voice went deep when she asked the question, as if she were in pain.
"I told you what her note said," Abby said. She hadn't shown it to them—they didn't need to know that Molly wanted her to stay. She wasn't sure she could fulfill that particular request, but she fully intended to honor Molly's first request and make sure that everyone else honored Molly's request for time alone, too. "Ever since her dad died, she's been so focused on college and then on medical school. She's pushed herself so hard that I think maybe she just burned out. She wants time alone to think, and with luck she'll rest and figure out what she really wants."
"But she's probably not alone," Colleen reminded them. She'd always been a little jealous of Eric's interest in her older sister. Heck, she'd always been a little jealous of Molly, who'd always been so close to perfect.
Abby had thought being bad was tough, but it had probably been worse to be Molly and have that constant pressure to be the best. She wasn't surprised that Mol had finally cracked and run away. Abby had had a lot less pressure and had run a lot longer ago.
"If she's not alone—" a smile tugged at Abby's lips "—there's even less reason to worry about her. She's safe. She's fine. She'll be back when she's ready."
Brenna sighed. "I hope she doesn't take as long as you did to come home."
Abby would have protested that she wasn't home, but she could see Clayton moving through the crowd toward them. "I have to go," she told her friends, before vanishing through the open door.
A headache pounded behind Clayton's eyes, nagging like a hangover despite the fact he'd had only one glass of champagne the night before, when he'd toasted Abby's return. Then, of course, he'd also had that sip of Rory's punch. But the hangover wasn't from drinking. He was hungover from the kiss.
He hadn't slept at all. He'd have liked to blame Molly, because he'd been too worried about her to sleep. Or Rory, for continually testing him. Or maybe he just wasn't used to having a houseguest. The best man, Nick Jameson, had slept in Clayton's spare room, since it had been too late for him to drive back to Grand Rapids after the reception.
With a cup of fresh-brewed coffee in his hand, Clayton headed to the loft's living room with the two-story-high windows looking down on Main Street. The first rays of morning sun reflected off the glass, momentarily blinding Clayton. Not that there was anything to see this early on a Sunday morning. No one was even up for church yet.
Squinting, Clayton peered out through the slats of his wooden blinds. While nothing moved on the street below his apartment,
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