Written With Hearts

Written With Hearts - Chapter Twenty Three

Abby....

Exhausted but happy, I look over my shoulder at a sleeping Lily in her car seat. A reflective warm smile accompanies my memories of the day as Yate carefully drives beside me.

The day at the farm couldn't have gone any better. To me, Lily is the cutest little girl on the planet. Her exuberant innocence is so very endearing, and even during a tired tantrum, she's still the loveliest little thing. She and Yate share an unbreakable bond, and it's one that I watched with pride and envy. It was also one that I sometimes felt like I was intruding on. So at the beginning of the day, I held back a little. I let Yate take the lead with everything. I didn't want Lily to feel like I was encroaching on her time with her daddy, so I kept a respectable distance; close enough to be involved, but not enough for her to feel threatened by my being there. I wanted to give her the time that she needed to get used to me being around. So any hand holding with Yate was kept to a minimum, and kissing him in front of Lily was strictly off limits. Again, I didn't want her wondering why this strange woman was kissing her daddy, although Yate did sneakily kiss me when Lily was going down a long tunnel slide. Another smile quickly comes to my mouth as I remember his playful words after that cheeky chaste kiss. "It's our little secret," he said with a wink and a smirk as Lily came sliding out of the tunnel and into his open arms.

I blissfully commit these wonderful small moments to my memory. I want to remember this day forever, because I hope that together, we'll have many more of them.

"Penny for them?" Yate quietly asks, as he reaches across to sweetly touch my hand.

With a peaceful smile pulling up the corners of my mouth, I inhale softly then slowly exhale a sigh that is so calmly content. "I'm just thinking about today," I admit, my smile still firmly in place as I glance sideways at him.

"Lily has certainly enjoyed herself." His eyes flick up to his rearview mirror, looking at her while she sleeps. "I think we've tired her out." He quickly looks back at me, before focusing on the road ahead again.

"I don't know about Lily, I am too." I gently laugh, as to not wake Lily in the back seat.

Yate lightly laughs now. "I think that's all the excitement of the tractor ride. I honestly couldn't tell who was more excited about that, you or Lily?" He laughs more, looking at me with brown eyes so playfully bright.

A crimson flush creeps across my cheeks with embarrassment. "I've never been on one before," I sheepishly admit, squirming with an open mouthed smile, my eyes widening with my feeble explanation.

Yate's grin deepens; his brows rise with his continued toying with me. "I think everyone on the tractor quickly found that out."

"Shut it, Sheridan!" I snap at him with a teasing warning, hitting the side of his leg. My mind then flicks back to the cringe-worthy moment. Replaying the bit where I kind of squealed with delight when we sat down in our seats on the tractor trailer, telling everyone that this was my first ever time on a tractor. Thinking back, maybe I was just a tad too overexcited; even Lily was looking at me strangely at the time.

Yate reaches for my hand, bringing it back into his lap as he drives. His fingers lovingly curl around mine, as he gently says, "You were great today, Abby . . . Lily likes you."

I turn my head to look at him, with my head lightly against the headrest. "I hope so," I nervously admit, with a tentative smile soon reaching my lips.

Yate reassuringly squeezes my hand. "I know she does," he tells me with a confident grin.

Turning my head again, with that same hopefulness filling my soul, I start to remember the one and only time that Lily held my hand during the entire day. We were just about to go and see the lambs after lunch, and Yate and I were walking shoulder to shoulder with Lily lightly skipping just ahead of us. Suddenly she turned around, shouting excitedly. "Swing me, Daddy!" In a flash she was between us, taking hold of both our hands. I remember her tiny palm being so very delicate and soft, as it held tighter onto my hand. I also remember looking down at her, and she was looking straight back up at me; beneath her beautiful long lashes. "Swing me, Abby?" she asked in an angelic small voice. I had no idea what to do; I just knew that I needed to make that little girl happy right at that very moment. So I copied what Yate was doing. I gripped her firmly as we both swung her through the air between us. Her giggles were followed by loud squeals of delight and shouts of, "Weeeeeeeeeee." Her laughter echoed between the two blocks of stables that stood opposite each other as we swung her back and forth, over and over again. Even though our arms were aching, we kept on doing it, because Lily loved it. Maybe she really does like me? I wonder to myself. It may sound completely ridiculous and completely desperate to want a two-year-old to like you so badly, but this isn't just any two-year-old; this is Yate's precious little two-year-old. Lily is his everything, and he is quickly becoming mine. So it's crucial that she likes me. Although, it's not only about wanting Lily to like me for Yate, I want her to like me for me. It seems strange to seek her approval, but I do. When her pure brown eyes look at me, she kind of looks right into me, and yet it doesn't scare her.

She doesn't seem aware of the demons that exist within me, and that strangely makes me feel better. I know that they are still there. I guess they always will be. Yet Lily makes it all seem that much easier, just like her dear daddy does. Maybe spending time with her will make me stronger? Since the abortion, I've avoided having anything to do with children. By choosing to be with Yate, I now have to face my fears, absolutely head on.

With my wandering thoughts going off in many directions, I am quickly brought back into the moment by the touch of Yate's velvety smooth lips warmly pressed against my curled fingers. "I hope you're resting over there, Abby Blair. I have plans for us later on." His voice is low and deep with sexual promise.

With my very full attention, I smirk. "Don't you worry about me, I'll be fully rested come the evening," I provocatively reply, my words laced with the very same sexual promise.

Yate says nothing. His reply is only given with a silent squeeze to my hand and a brief desirous look in my direction, before placing his concentration back on the long road ahead.

My sideways stare on him quietly lingers. I study his every curve and contour of his masculine profile. Dreamily taking in every inch of the parts of his face that I can see: the relaxed, full pout of his mouth, the curved end of his nose, the natural arch of his brown brows, and an appreciation of his long and dark lashes. Everything about Yate is perfect. To me, he's flawless. This is one of those moments where I actually want to pinch myself before the doubts consume me.

Why would such a flawless man want to be with someone like me, so very full of flaws?

Will he run, once he's aware of them?

Will my past imperfections, eventually kill our future?

I know I promised him that one day I'd tell him all about my past, but now, I don't think I can. I'm afraid that if I do, he'll look at me differently. To finally reveal every single flaw that I've kept so deeply hidden away, could be relationship suicide for Yate and me. I just don't think I can face doing that to us. I know it would change things. It will change how Yate feels for me, that I'm absolutely sure of.

So I have to keep quiet. The more time I spend with him, the surer I am about that. Although I will admit, there have been many times when we've been snuggled up together, that I've almost told him. It's just that I'm always so very happy when I am lying in his safe and secure arms, that I always change my mind. I'm just so happy with how things are going between us, how can I tell him something that might destroy everything that we now have? By confessing to my past, I could be destroying my future. I honestly feel like I don't really have a choice anymore. Besides, I'm probably on borrowed time. Something will happen that will be like an emotional dam bursting inside of me. I'll more than likely spill my guts out over some stupid little thing that has upset me, and destroy it all anyway. I close my eyes, shutting out the possibility of that ever happening. Then just as I'm sinking into the abyss of fears that are always nearby, I hear the sound of Yate's silvery voice, which pulls me from their grisly clutches. "I'm glad you came today, Abby." His tone is light and thoughtful.

With emotion rushing through me like a warming flood, I quietly reply with a quivering smile. "Thank you for inviting me. It's been wonderful," I say, stroking his knuckles with the tips of my affectionate fingers.

He then sighs, smiling. I get pleasure from caressing his skin with my fingertips and from thinking about how wonderful today has been. Every single part of the day has been wonderful; I've no doubt the evening shall be too.