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Choosing the Present
Última actualización:
2026-01-19 23:36:10
Último capítulo
Too Close To Handle A Promise Without Words
“Red.”A familiar voice called out to her.Abigail and James both turned toward the man approaching them.“It’s cold out here,” Edward said calmly as he reached Abigail’s side. Without hesitation, he draped his jacket over her shoulders, his movements natural, possessive, protective. “You should’ve gone back inside.”“Are you done?” Abigail asked, looking up at him.“Yes,” Edward replied. His eyes softened as they stayed on her, as if James wasn’t even standing there. “Should we go now?”“Uncle Edward,” James burst out bitterly, “you’ve really let yourself be fooled by that woman.”Edward didn’t even glance at him.“Oh,” he said lightly, a faint smile tugging at his lips, “she can fool me, use m anything she wants. I’d surrender willingly.”He leaned down and pressed a gentle kiss to Abigail’s temple.“Can I really?” Abigail teased, tilting her head to look at him.James could only gape at the sight before him.This wasn’t the Edward he knew.His uncle was completely, shamelessly down
Too Close To Handle Choosing the Present
“You’re leaving this house?” Edward’s father said in disbelief when Edward announced that he and Abigail would be moving out of the mansion and returning to their unit.Now that their secret was out, Edward believed there was no longer any reason for Abigail’s parents to harass her. Besides, at Abigail’s request, he had decided not to proceed with the purchase of the island. Even after everything her family had done to her, she still chose kindness over resentment.Edward hated that about her, how gentle and forgiving she was, even when she had every reason not to be. And yet, that was exactly who Abigail was, and he loved her all the more for it.But that was not the only reason he wanted to leave.Edward knew that as long as Abigail remained under the same roof as his family, the pain would never stop haunting her. The walls of the mansion were filled with memories of what had happened, of what they had lost, of the child they would never get to hold. He could see it in her eyes eve
Too Close To Handle The Night They Chose Each Other
The night deepened around them, the hum of the city fading into the quiet rhythm of their breaths. Edward’s hand still rested at the small of Abigail’s back, his thumb drawing slow, absent circles against her skin through the thin fabric of her blouse.Neither spoke. Words felt too fragile for the moment, too small for everything that pulsed between them.Abigail looked up at him — the curve of his jaw lit by the city’s soft glow, the tenderness in his eyes. There had been a time when that gaze terrified her — when love had felt like a promise destined to be broken. But now, standing in his arms, she understood that what frightened her wasn’t love… it was the possibility of losing it again.“Edward,” she whispered, her voice trembling but sure.He tilted his head, waiting.“I don’t want to be afraid anymore.”His expression softened, his hand coming up to cradle her fac
Too Close To Handle One Heartbeat at a time
The first light of dawn slipped quietly through the sheer curtains, painting the room in a soft golden hue. Abigail stirred, her lashes fluttering open to the sound of steady breathing beside her. For a moment, she didn’t move. She only watched — the way the sunlight touched Edward’s face, the calm rise and fall of his chest, the peacefulness she hadn’t seen in him for so long.He had fallen asleep sitting beside the bed again, one arm resting on the mattress, his hand still loosely holding hers. The gesture was so simple, yet it carried all the words neither of them had dared to speak.Her heart ached, but in a gentler way this time. The pain was still there — it always would be — but now it pulsed alongside something else: gratitude. Hope, perhaps.Abigail slowly sat up, careful not to wake him. She studied his face — the faint shadows under his eyes, the traces of exhaustion softened by devotion. This man, who once li
Too Close To Handle I stayed because you’re still my home
Edward paused in the doorway of the guest room, the soft glow of the bedside lamp spilling across the quiet space. His brows furrowed when he saw Abigail sitting at the edge of the bed, her hands folded neatly on her lap as if bracing herself for his arrival.“Why are you sleeping here?” he asked gently. His voice was calm, but there was a faint note of hurt beneath it.After the confrontation at the convent, Abigail had come with him willingly—silent, distant, but compliant. She hadn’t argued or complained. He knew she wasn’t ready to face his father or anyone else after what had happened. And truthfully, he wasn’t ready either. Seeing his family again would only remind him of the pain that had taken everything from them.He took a step closer. “We have our own room, Abigail. Why—”“I’m more comfortable here,” she said quietly, her tone steady but fragile. “I came with you, but that doesn’t mean…”“Doesn’t mean you want to live as husband and wife again?” he finished for her softly.
Too Close To Handle Dangerous hope that maybe
Days passed quietly in the orphanage.The rhythm of life there was simple — bells in the morning, prayers before breakfast, laughter echoing faintly from the courtyard where children played.Abigail had always thought of silence as punishment. But here, in these soft, measured days, silence began to feel like something else — a kind of mercy.She woke each morning to the scent of bread baking in the kitchen. The air was cool, filled with the sound of small feet running down the halls. Sometimes one of the younger girls would peek through the door, eyes wide with curiosity.“Are you the lady from the rain?” they would ask, and she would smile faintly, nodding.“Yes. The one who forgot her umbrella.”They would giggle and disappear again.At first, she barely spoke to anyone. She spent her hours helping in the garden behind the chapel, her hands finding comfort in the soil — planting, watering, tending. There was something about watching things grow that eased the ache inside her, even
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