“I never regret what I do.” To my surprise, Weston snuggled closer. I hadn’t counted on him being affectionate and sweet. “Or whom.” He grinned, and ran a foot over mine. “But just so you know, I have no intention of this happening with anyone else. We might’ve started out hating each other, but somewhere, it got turned around, and now I can’t stop thinking about you. I’m not looking to question or analyze it. I want to see where this takes us. If you’re ready.”
Stunned by his revelation, I licked my lips. “I-I think I am.” Who was I kidding? “I definitely am. I think that’s why I didn’t fight you about going home after my first doctor’s appointment.” The heat of my secret truth warmed my cheeks. “Maybe I was hoping this would happen since that first time.”
West’s soft eyes crinkled half-shut with laughter. “As if I’d let you leave. And no need to figure it all out tonight. Right now we should go to sleep because I’m tired, and you must be as well.”
Of course as soon as he said it, I yawned. “Kind of, but I need to wash up.” I wiggled my fingers. “I’m a little sticky.”
With a rueful smile, Weston flung off the covers and circled the bed to my side. “I’ll help you. Plus, I have to clean up in the living room.” He offered me a hand, and I gingerly swung my legs to the floor and stood. I made to reach for my crutches, but Weston held me. “You don’t need them. Not while you’re here. Lean on me.” At my hesitation, he squeezed my shoulder. “I’m not asking you to marry me, Brenner. Don’t make a big deal out of it.”
“I’m not.” I glared at Weston, and he snickered.
“Has anyone told you you’re cute when you’re annoyed?”
“That means I must be fucking adorable whenever I’m with you,” I shot back, but of course Weston ignored me. He left me in the bathroom to wash up, and after I finished, I thought Iheard the television on low. Holding on to the wall, I crept to the hallway and peeked into the living room, where Weston sat on the couch, watching his father’s victory speech for the second time. Try as he might to deny it, the hurt ran deep from his father’s words.
There were different types of abandonment. Some of us were rejected by our parents, or put in impossible situations that risked our lives. Others, like Weston, had to learn to deal with a parent who gave everything except what a child most desired and needed—unconditional love; a parent whose main concern was himself, his wants and needs, not those of his child.
I returned to the bedroom as quietly as I could, and with my ribs and heart aching for both of us and what we’d lost, got into bed. I closed my eyes, waiting for Weston to return. I must’ve fallen asleep because I awoke to complete darkness and Weston lying curled up in a tight ball, miles of empty space between us.
**
It had been odd between us since that night together. There’d been no repeat, no kisses or touching. In fact, it almost seemed as though Weston had been going out of his way to avoid me, and now, at the end of the second week, I made the decision to return to my apartment. There was no need to stay with Weston any longer, and I needed my life to return to normal, whatever that meant.
My doctor appointment went smoothly. The bruising around my ribs looked worse than it felt, and he put me in a small, soft brace for my ankle and said I should be able to put weight on it again. Before returning to the office, I stopped at a sandwich place and picked up something for lunch. At first it was weirdnot using the crutches, and I moved slowly, but when I didn’t fall, I gained more confidence and waited for a car. This proved to me I’d made the right decision to go home. I couldn’t depend on Weston anymore.
But Weston didn’t see it that way. “Why did you go without me? I said I’d take you. My meeting got held up but only by a few minutes.” His eyes shot fire at me from across the desk.
“It wasn’t a big deal. The bruising is healing nicely, and my ankle is much better.” I made an attempt at a joke. “Look, Dad, no crutches.”
“You’re not funny.”
“I think I’m hilarious.” Struggling to understand why I was so afraid to tell him I was leaving, I decided to blurt it out and get it over with. “I’m going home tonight. I appreciate everything you did, but I think it’s time.”
Expecting an argument, I received a shock when all Weston did was shrug. “Suit yourself. If you need help bringing anything, let me know.”
“It’s not much. I can handle it.”
Weston opened his mouth as if to say something, then changed his mind and gave a sharp nod. “All right.” He turned to leave.
“West, please wait.” Using the desk to brace myself, I got to my feet and walked to where he remained standing, stiff and still as a soldier. “Is everything okay?”
“Yeah, sure, why wouldn’t it be?”
“That’s why I’m asking. Ever since…that night, you’ve changed. I thought…I don’t know. I thought things were going to be different between us. Better.”
“Nothing’s changed. It’s been a busy week, and I’m tired.”
My door was closed, so I took the chance and touched him. A simple hand on his arm, but I heard his breath hitch. “Talk to me. Tell me what’s wrong.”
“I saidnothing.” He wrenched away and opened the door. “Have a nice weekend.”
I watched him leave without trying to stop him. If he’d wanted to talk to me about it, he would have. I had no desire to chase after him. One thing I’d learned in our brief time together was that despite our differences, we were very similar. If we didn’t want to talk about something, we wouldn’t, and no amount of pressure would change our minds.
Of course I’d forgotten about my friend Christine, who called to find out how I was feeling. At least that was her claim, but I knew otherwise.
“Darling, that’s wonderful. I’m glad you’re healing. And how is that gorgeous roomie of yours?”
“He’s not my roomie, as you so quaintly put it. In fact, I’m moving home tonight. I just have to pack up some things.”
