“My name wasn’t always Lucy Washburn. I was born Abigail Winston.”
His eyes narrowed as he tried to process what I was saying. Before he could ask questions, I told him the rest.
“It was my freshman year of college when I heard from friends that Greg was missing in action and presumed dead. That’s when part of me died too. Not only had I lost him, but we lost the choice to have our own family. The fury I felt toward my parents was something I’d never felt before. But what was worse was the disgust I felt toward myself, and the guilt. I cried all the time, didn’t care about going to classes, and I realized I’d already lost myself. Abigail was dead; she died on the same day Greg did.”
I sobbed, gasping for air as I tried to speak, but I couldn’t do it. My cheeks were wet with tears, but I needed to go on or I’d never finish my story. I swiped at my face with the back of my hands.
“Lucy, you don’t need to.” Drake took a step toward me, but I shook my head.
“Yes, I do.” My chest shuddered as I took a breath and tried to go on. “So I completely cut myself off from my family and started over. I hired a lawyer and legally changed my name, and then transferred out of Colorado State to JMU. I had a small trust fund that my grandparents had left me, money my parents couldn’t touch, so I was able to support myself through college without their help. I’m so sorry, Drake. I should have told you sooner.”
He stared at the floor, seeming to process what I’d told him, but he didn’t say anything for what felt like an eternity.
“Please say something,” I begged. My heart felt as if it had been stabbed. I hated to think how Drake felt.
Frowning, he glanced up at me. “Who else knows about this?”
“Mason. He’s the only one who knows my story.”
Staring at the floor, he said in a low voice, “You should have told me.”
I nodded. “I know, but I was scared.”
His head snapped up as if he suddenly realized something. “Is this why you didn’t want your picture in the paper? Because you thought you might be recognized?”
“You’re a pro-life Republican, Drake, who also happens to be Catholic. I couldn’t let my past be associated with you. And if the school board found out about this, I’d most likely lose my job. It wasn’t something I’d want to put on my résumé, but I wasn’t asked about it either. I was just happy to have a job where I could teach.”
His face hardened. “So you waited until I fell in love with you to tell me you aren’t who you said you were?”
I was stunned. He loves me?
At my shocked expression, Drake stood up a little straighter, his face drawn tight with emotion. “Didn’t you know how I felt about you? You could have told me at the very beginning, and I wouldn’t have thought less of you. What happened to you was a long time ago. It wasn’t as if this happened to us. But you decided to keep this from me. Now, we’re here with my family, who adores you by the way, and you spring this on me?”
I shook my head, wanting him to understand. “This is why I held off meeting them.”
“One week. You held out for one week, Lucy.” His shoulders slumped and his head fell forward, utterly defeated. “I don’t know what to do here. You’ve given me a lot to think about.”
“I’m sorry. I really am so sorry. But I needed to tell you before someone started digging in my past.”
“I understand, and I’m sorry you didn’t tell me until you felt you had to.”
“What was I supposed to say? Hi, I’m Lucy Washburn, but I was born Abigail Winston. I changed my name because I had an abortion and hate my parents? Oh, and the boy I once loved died fighting for our country, so we’d never have the life we wanted?” My words felt like blades slicing my mouth as I spoke.
Drake paced away from me, his hand over his mouth. His voice was hoarse as he said, “I need time to figure out how to handle this.”
“Does this mean we’re over?” I choked out.
Facing the darkened window that looked out over the beach, he kept his back to me as he said, “It means I need time to think, that’s all.”
I nodded, determined not to let any more tears fall. I’d wait until I was back home.
“For what it’s worth,” he added, “I appreciate your telling me.”
I tried to smile, but it probably came out as a grimace. He didn’t see it anyway, because he averted his face as he opened the door and walked out.
Pain struck me so hard when Drake walked away, it was difficult for me to stand. I shouldn’t have gotten as close to him as I had. In fact, I shouldn’t even be here right now. At least here he’d have his family to help him process it all, a family I could only wish to have one day.
Devastated, I watched him walk out of the room and probably out of my life. The click of the front door closing downstairs echoed in my soul.
I was already responsible for destroying Greg, and I couldn’t do the same to Drake. He deserved to live his dreams, without the problems my past would cause him. He’d be forced to make excuses for me, and my past would become fodder for the next news cycle.
The headlines alone would be brutal, and once my family found out where I was, everything I’d worked so hard to put behind me would be front and center once again. I wasn’t so much concerned with myself, but if my parents found out that my boyfriend was a prominent political figure, they’d feast on that—especially my mom.
I grabbed my phone, looked up the bus schedule, and called a cab to take me to the terminal. Then I sent Mason a text, asking him to pick me up at the station. Knowing he’d be confused, I also told him Drake knew the truth.
Not wanting to discuss it right now, I turned off my phone and tossed it back in my bag. Mason would be calling, wanting to be sure I was okay, but I just couldn’t talk right now.
The only thing left to do was to pack my bag, which didn’t take long. I turned to look at the bed Drake and I shared in this beautiful oceanfront room. We might not have been here long, but I’d fallen in love with it. Knowing Drake would expect me to be here when he got back, I went to the desk next to the window, took out a notepad, and wrote him a letter. It was the hardest letter I’d ever written in my life.
When I was done, I placed the paper on my pillow, wiped my eyes, and headed downstairs to wait for the taxi.
Sounds from the TV were coming from the den, and I peeked in to see Drake’s brothers, father, and sister watching a baseball game. I felt horrible not saying good-bye to them, or at the very least thanking them for their hospitality, but I’d send a card later, once I got home.
My heart sank as I stepped out onto the porch. The night air was cool, and the salty breeze blew my hair into my eyes. A noise startled me, and I turned to find Drake’s mom sitting on the swing I’d admired when we first arrived.
“Lucy, sweetheart, is that your bag? Are you leaving?” Her posture straightened as she slid over and patted the seat next to her. “Come and sit with me.”
“Thank you, Tina, but I’m waiting for a cab. It should be here any minute.”
“Did something happen at home? Was there an emergency?” Then she looked behind me. “Where’s Drake?”
I shrugged and my eyes filled. “I had to tell him some things from my past that I’m not proud of. He may need to talk to someone, but he might think he needs to keep my secret. Please let him know that I told you it was okay for him to talk to you if he needs to.”
Sympathy filled her eyes. “You love my son, don’t you?”
“Yes, I believe I do.”
“Then why are you leaving? I’ve never seen my boy look at someone the way he does you. He’ll be back, I’m sure of it.” Tina stood and approached me.
I gave her a hug. “I’m sorry, Tina. He may need time, but I’m afraid this is one instance where time may not heal all wounds.” The sound of a horn grabbed my attention. “That’s my ride. Thank you so much for accepting me, even though you didn’t know who I was.”