17
Abby’s hand was still trembling. She stood in the doorway of a one-room suite that overlooked the dark alley and the garbage dumpster, and the smell wafted in even through the closed window. The building was old and rundown, but at least it was a roof over her head and she could afford the rent. She stared up at Eric, who looked so handsome and tall. She wanted to reach out and run her hand over his cheek and the darkness always shadowed there. He needed to shave. She squeezed her fist, feeling the wall she’d put between them. What right did she have to touch him? This was the first time she’d ever seen tears in his eyes, and that hurt worse than anything she’d been through.
“Why?” he asked, his face taking in a mix of emotions she hadn’t seen before. She didn’t think she could stand
