The Last Goodbye Read online

  Copyright © 2020 Abby McCarthy

  This is a work of fiction. All characters, organizations and events portrayed in this novel are either products of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously. The author acknowledges the trademark status and trademark owners of various products referenced in this work of fiction, which have been used without permission.

  All rights reserved. This book or any portion thereof may not be reproduced or used in any manner whatsoever without the express written permission of the author, except for the use of brief quotations in the book review.

  Cover design by Hang Le

  http://www.byhangle.com

  Editing by Author Services by Kyleigh Poultney

  Table of Contents

  Copyright Page

  Dedication

  The Last Goodbye

  Chapter One

  Chapter Two Past

  Chapter Three Past

  Chapter Four

  Chapter Five Past

  Chapter Six Past

  Chapter Seven

  Chapter Eight

  Chapter Nine

  Chapter Ten

  Chapter Eleven

  Chapter Twelve

  Chapter Thirteen

  Chapter Fourteen

  Chapter Fifteen

  Chapter Sixteen

  Chapter Seventeen

  Chapter Eighteen

  Chapter Nineteen

  Chapter Twenty

  Chapter Twenty-One

  Chapter Twenty-Two

  Chapter Twenty-Three

  Chapter Twenty-Four

  Chapter Twenty-Five

  Chapter Twenty-Six

  Chapter Twenty-Seven

  Chapter Twenty-Eight

  Chapter Twenty-Nine

  Chapter Thirty Six months later

  Chapter Thirty-One

  Epilogue

  Acknowledgments

  About Abby McCarthy

  Other books by Abby McCarthy

  Dedication:

  For Katie,

  I'm so glad you've fallen.

  PROLOGUE

  "There's still a chance. My lawyer says it's slim, but he thinks we have a shot." Even as he said the words, I didn't think he fully believed them. It was a fucking Hail Mary, and he knew it.

  "I warned you, Linc. I told you, nothing good would come from you going with Alex."

  "Lols, he's my brother. I couldn't let him go in there alone." His words rang hollow. I’d heard this before.

  "Yes! Yes, you could have. Or you could've talked him out of it. You could've walked away. I told you it was stupid, and you shouldn't risk it. You could've done a lot of things. But you didn't. You put him first in front of our life together. Always. Everyone else always seems to come first."

  "Lols. Love..." He looked heartbroken. He could see he was losing me.

  "Don't." He put his hand up to the glass, and desperation filled his features. He could see my light dimming. He knew that this was real, that I was done. He couldn’t make this right. It was too late.

  If he could’ve touched me, I would’ve faltered. But the glass that separated us was a barrier he couldn't break. And for the first time, I was glad that he wasn’t able to.

  He watched as I clutched the phone to my chest. I was struggling. I wanted to break down and cry, but I was trying to be strong.

  I took a deep breath, trying to prevent the quiver in my lip. I thought we had our whole lives together.

  He gave me this look that willed me to put the phone back to my ear. I took a couple deep breaths and let a mask slip over my features. My chin no longer quivered. My eyes were suddenly reserved as I held the phone to my ear.

  "Lola." Using my name, he begged me to forgive him, pleading with me to wait. My name on his lips implored that we were forever. It asked me to wait. It asked me to stay. It asked the impossible.

  I cut him off, "Lincoln, I'm done. I can't. No—I just... I won't do this anymore." I hung the phone up, and like so many times when he’d said goodbye in the past, I said those same words back to him. “Goodbye, Linc.”

  "Lola, no. Don't do this," he yelled. I couldn't hear him through the thick plated glass, but I watched his lips move, and I couldn’t bear the anguish. I had to turn and walk away for the last time. I couldn’t watch the guards escort him away.

  If I turned, he would see how completely gutted I was. He would see how badly I wanted to stay. But I was done letting my heart win out over my head. I hadn’t gotten very far letting that lead. It was time to use my head. It was time to let go.

  Chapter One

  It was early. Too early for my alarm clock. The incessant buzzing wouldn't stop. Why, oh, why did they make these things start your day off with the most annoying sound? I slapped it lazily and did a roll/fall out of bed—the bed that's been empty for two years, nine months, and six days. Not that I'd been counting the days that Lincoln was gone, but today was the day that the manilla envelope sitting on the mantel explained that Lincoln was up for parole. Most wives in my situation would be happy that their husbands had a chance at parole. Then again, most wives would have visited their husbands in jail.

  I untangled myself from my sheets that were still stuck around my ankles, just as Isabelle, purring loudly, rubbed against them. It was the only time of the day the cat was nice to me. She only ever warmed up to Linc.

  "All right, Iz. I hear you."

  I moved to the kitchen and sleepily grabbed a can of cat food from the cupboard. The coffee maker on an automatic timer went off, and my favorite drug, caffeine, began filling the small space with a rich aroma.

  I filled the cat bowl and watched as Isabelle left my side and strutted straight to her bowl, forgetting I existed.

  That figured.

  I shook my head and grabbed my coffee mug from the metal dish strainer next to the sink. Sure, I had a dishwasher, but it was just me now. What did I need a big ole dishwasher for? After pouring my coffee, I grabbed my French vanilla flavored creamer and poured a healthy amount into my cup. It tasted divine. I inhaled the aroma like it was a drug, and it woke me up instantly.

  I spent the next forty minutes getting ready for work. My hair was blown out. It was big, the way I liked it. The long thick black strands reached the middle of my back. My light hazel eyes were rimmed with black, and my eyeshadow was light, appropriate for office wear. I wore a subtle sheer lip gloss and used a bronzer, blush, and highlighter to contour my face. I dressed in a white blouse, a high-waisted black pencil skirt, and black pumps. This was my everyday polished look for work.

  I moved to my jewelry box and grabbed a small pair of gold hoop earrings. My eyes briefly landed on my wedding ring. The pear-shaped diamond glinted against my jewelry, standing out as the nicest piece. I tried to keep my mind from going to Lincoln, but knowing what today was, it was hard.

  What if he was released? How would I cope with that?

  I shook my head and tried to rid the thoughts, reminding myself that he didn't have my phone number anymore. He didn't know where I lived. The only place he'd know to find me would be at my work, and there was a security guard at the door.

  I took one final look in the mirror, accepting how put together I looked. I've always been grateful for my Spanish-Italian heritage. It gives me almost an exotic look, but today I thought about how my looks were what drew Lincoln to me. If I'd never met him...

  No.

  I needed to stop those thoughts and not continue to let my mind go there.

  I threw on a thin black coat that cinched at the waist, grabbed my handbag, and keys, then locked the door behind me. Seconds later, I was on the elevator heading down to the first floor of my apartment and taking off down the street. The street was busy, as usual. People were too distrac
ted on their phones to notice anyone around them. Not me. I was afraid of my phone today. I knew how resourceful he could be.

  I boarded the L Train taking it to downtown Chicago. It's a twenty-minute ride from here and was always crowded. There were four seats open, so I hurriedly sat down in an empty one.

  "Is this seat taken?" I looked up from my seat and saw an attractive hipster. He had a neatly trimmed beard, attractive glasses, and a tight man-bun. Even from down here, I could see how long his lashes were and the subtle pout to his lips.

  "All yours," I replied, standing up so he could get to the window seat. There was no way I wanted to feel trapped with him on one side of me and the window on the other. That was the worst.

  He sat down, and I did my best to not making eye contact. I didn't feel like talking. It seemed that these hipster types were always so friendly. I just wasn't up for it.

  "So, are you on your way to work? That was a dumb question. Of course, you are. I mean, it's eight-fifteen on a Friday. Where else would you be going dressed like that?" He rambled.

  "Mm-hmm," I answer non-committedly, hoping he'd get the hint.

  My phone vibrated, making me jump and accidentally dropping it on the dirty train floor. I reached down to grab it and smacked my head right into the hipster.

  "Ouch,'" I said at the same time he said, "Ow."

  I sat up and rubbed my temple.

  He handed me my phone, and for the second time, I thought that he was really attractive, almost pretty.

  My phone vibrated again, and I looked down, seeing Ty flash across the screen. I let out a sigh. Ty is Lincoln's brother, whom I swore to secrecy with my phone number and address. He was the only person from my life with Lincoln that I continued to stay in contact with. No one else understood why I had to let Linc go. I couldn’t handle the judgment. As if me finally being finished with my con of a husband was so absurd.

  I looked over at the man next to me. It was rude taking a call on the train, but I answered anyway.

  "Hey, Ty."

  "Hi, Honey. You doing okay?"

  "Yeah, I'm all right. Trying to keep my mind off things."

  "I talked to Ma. She thinks it's going to happen. Said there's no reason he won't get released."

  I nodded and foolishly realized that he couldn't see me. "Remember, you promised, Ty."

  "Are you sure this is what you really want? He loves you."

  I could feel my throat getting tight. I'd done so well by not crying in so long.

  "Ty," I sighed out his name.

  "All right, I just think..."

  "I'm hanging up now," I said, almost croaking that out.

  "Okay. Listen, I'll text you when I know for sure."

  "Bye, Ty." I tapped end without waiting for a response. It all felt too overwhelming.

  I slid my phone into my purse and glanced at the man next to me. His eyes met mine, "Was that your boyfriend?"

  It was a little presumptuous for him to ask the question, but I shook my head no.

  "I'm sorry, it just sounds like you're having a rough morning?"

  "You have no idea," I responded.

  "Look on the bright side. The sun's shining."

  I looked out the window and noted it was going to be a beautiful day. "You're right, and it's a nice day."

  "Sorry, I don't know you. You don't know me. Maybe you think all this stranger talking to you business is a bit much, but I can't really help it, see my mom's a hippie."

  I wondered briefly what in the world he was going on about.

  "Anyway, she taught me that when things seem bad, look around you for the good. The sun shining is always good."

  I didn't know this man, but I admired the way he openly shared.

  "What's your name?" I asked, which I never do.

  His face softened, and there were small creases around his mouth as he smiled. "My name is Jet. What's yours?"

  The smallest amount of guilt passed through me, and I pushed it aside. "Jet?" I asked because it was a peculiar name.

  "Like I said, mom was a hippie, and Dad, well, Dad did the seventies. You know, I usually save this story for the first date." He said with levity to his voice, then studied me for a second. "What do you say?"

  He talked rapidly, leaving me confused about what he was asking. My name, right? "Oh, sorry. I'm Lola."

  "Well, Lola, what do you say? Can I tell you all about how a hippie and a Travolta-wannabe made a Jet?"

  "Oh," I said, shocked. I was not picking up on the fact he was flirting at all. I rubbed my ring finger where my ring used to be, unsure of how I was feeling.

  "Not the dreaded, ‘oh.’"

  "I'm sorry, Jet. You seem like a really nice guy, but I'm–well–I'm complicated."

  "I'll tell you what? When you un-complicate things, call me."

  He handed me his card, and it surprised me to see he was an audio engineer for Sound Machine Recording Studio.

  "Sound Machine, huh? I'm in accounting at Black Label." I worked for a music label and often paid invoices from Sound Machine.

  "Small world. See how much we already have in common?" Gosh, he was charming. Something about his carefree nature put me at ease.

  The train stopped, and we all moved slightly forward as it lost momentum. "Well, this is me. I hope you'll call me when life gets less complicated." He tilted his head to the side, pondering his next words as I stood to let him out. "Come on, Lola, one date."

  I had the smallest flutter low in my belly at Jet, saying my name. I shook my head, "We'll see. Nice to meet you. Oh, and Jet, you enjoy that sunshine."

  "The sunshine's not what brightened my day." He left, and I found myself smiling. I usually shot men down right away, but something about how he shared so freely left me feeling intrigued. I could feel the lingering guilt that wanted to return full-force. It would consume my thoughts if I let it, and I couldn't do that. It had been years; long, hard years. I briefly wondered what it had been like for Lincoln, and I hated that my mind traveled there again. I usually did a good job of keeping my mind off of him, but today it seemed impossible. I tried to think of Jet and his carefree demeanor, but it was useless. No matter where I told my thoughts to go, they eventually led directly to Lincoln.

  I got off at Union Station, and the bustle of people, like always, astounded me. I placed Jet’s card in my purse and headed to the office, which was on the forty-seventh floor of the Hancock Building. The street seemed busier than usual at this hour. I walked down Michigan Ave, and once I got to the Hancock Building, I greeted Richard, the middle-aged but handsome doorman.

  He had a few specks of grey in his hair but looked polished. He was clean-shaven, had great lips, and an even better smile. I wasn’t interested in him, but I could appreciate his attractiveness.

  “Morning, Mrs. Paige.”

  “Hey, Richard. How’s Sam doing?” Sam was Richard’s wife, who just pushed out an eleven-pound baby.

  “She’s doing great, exhausted but good. She’s hardly sleeping because Logan seems to be up every hour to eat, but besides that, she’s great. You should come by to meet him. I’m sure Sam would love that.”

  I’d only met Sam a few times, but every time I did, I thought she seemed incredibly kind and welcoming. One thing I noticed immediately was the way she loved her husband. It was evident in every single look she gave him. I knew that look. It was how I looked at Linc.

  “I think that’s a great idea, but I’ll give her a little more time. I’m betting if I just pushed out a three-month-old sized baby I’d want to wait until I had a handle on everything before I had a ton of visitors.”

  “Good point,” he said with a smile. “I’ll tell her you asked about her. You have a great day.”

  “Thanks, you too.”

  Using my key card, I headed up the elevator, past Tiffany, our receptionist, and to my small office. I did this with a smile on my face thinking the second I had a little bit of extra money, I would buy Logan some super cute boy clothes.

&n
bsp; The sun was shining so brightly into my office that I needed to close the blinds. I’d never be able to get any work done if I didn’t. As I moved to do so, I noticed the tumultuous waves on Lake Michigan today. Tumultuous, now there’s a feeling I could relate to.

  My workday passed like every other day. I was at my computer, with the occasional phone call asking for receipts and invoices. It flew by, like usual, and I was completely immersed in work all day.

  On the way home, I thought about my encounter with Jet. He seemed so much easier going than Linc. What would it be like to date someone as carefree as him? I waited for guilt to course through me, but it didn’t. Instead, I realized that I hadn’t checked my phone all day. How could I not check? It was probably my mind’s way of trying to protect me.

  Sitting on the L Train, I pulled out my phone. I needed to know one way or another if Lincoln was getting out. I closed my eyes before looking and took a deep breath. Come on, Lola. You can do this. Once you find out the hearing results, today will be no different from any other day. He won’t know where you live. It’ll be okay. I told myself this lie because I wanted to believe it. Lincoln was and always would be resourceful. I hit the circle with Ty’s face on it.

  Ty: Call me!

  Ty: Don’t ignore me, girl!

  Ty: All right, I get it. You don’t want to talk.

  Ty: They paroled him.

  Ty: Did you read this yet?

  Ty: I said Lincoln’s free.

  There it was, in bold letters.

  He’s free.

  Chapter Two Past

  I watched as Ellie chatted with Camille and Erin. Ellie wanted to be a part of their clique for as long as I could remember. I never cared the way she did. I looked at Camille with her blonde highlights and shorts that were way too short. She wore a green shirt with cap sleeves and buttons down the middle, stopping mid-belly and tying neatly in a little bow. Erin dressed a little more modest in a jean skirt with jewels on the back pockets and a black tank top. Ellie tried to dress like them and fit in, but she never quite hit the same mark of desperation. She was dressed similarly, but it didn’t quite look like she was trying as hard to fit in.