“This is a mighty nice dinner, West,” I say as I bring my glass of wine to my lips.
“I think it’s the least I could do after everything,” He shrugs and looks at me sheepishly.
I roll my eyes, “I’m over the cabin ordeal, it’s okay, really.” In fact, in the long run, it was probably better; I got great ideas for our project.
“I think I owe you an apology and an explanation for a whole lot more than the cabin. I’ve made some pretty massive mistakes.”My hands start to shake with that statement. “What do you mean?”
“I’ve been really wanting to talk to you about that night. I wasn’t quite honest all those years ago when I left you on the doorstep.” His finger drags up and down his fork. Confusion washes over me and my face pinches.
He looks at me, stares into the depths of my soul, straight down the pieces he shattered. “The reason I broke up with you was that I thought you staying in this town was going to hold you back. I thought that I needed to put you first and that meant putting us last. Now that I’m older and definitely a lot more mature, I realize how stupid that was.”
My breath catches, and a million emotions flood my system all at once, overwhelming me. Breathing suddenly feels impossible. I’vewondered for years why he left me, and that is why. “You seriously expect me to believe that you dumped me to make my life better?”
“I swear my life on it, Willow. It never was because I didn’t love you. It was because I did, I wanted to see you shine, and I didn’t think you could do that here.” His voice shakes with emotion, his eyes shining.
If I didn’t know the man so damn well, I would think he was lying. But he means it. My hands fist on the table as I try to get a hold of my anger. “That wasn’t your decision to make, Weston. That was mine. I get to decide what is or isn’t enough,” hurt and anger intermingle in my tone.
He wants to reach for me, I can tell by the way his hands keep inching closer. “I didn’t want to hold you back, Sunshine. You’re so much bigger than this small town and I didn’t want you to be stuck here.”
My voice cracks as my control starts to wane. “You didn’t think maybe looping me in on that thought process would be a good idea?” I say, cocking my head to the side, letting anger take the forefront here.
He blinks up at the ceiling, taking a deep breath. “At the time, no. I knew that you would disagree. And I really wanted you to give you a fair shot. I thought that I was putting you first. I was eighteen and self-deprecating.” The way he looks at me right now, shifts something, I can’t tell if it’s in the right direction, “I loved you so fucking much that I wanted you to have better than me and this town. Believe me when I say I regretted it every single day you’ve been away. I’ve grown up and I realize that you can chase every dream you want and still live within the county lines. Even more, I could’ve gone with you. I just thought that I was doing the right thing.”
I hate this. I hate that this is the reason why we fell apart. We should have been so much more; we should have been endgame. But instead,I got a broken heart and trust issues. “Did you know that I almost failed out of my first semester of college because I was so depressed? You never even called to check on me.” My voice teeters on a full sob, admitting what I’ve never told anyone.
He rubs at his chest, like it hurts the same way mine does right now. This was supposed to be a fun dinner, but this, this is brutal. “That's not quite true. I mean, I didn’t call, but I did check on you."
Taken aback, I ask, “You never came to see me, you never called, you didn’t check in on me.”
He sits too still for my liking. “I came to New York. I got your address from your grandpa. It was about a year after you left. I asked your grandpa about you every single time I saw him. He finally convinced me to go talk to you, but I wanted to do it face-to-face. When I got there, you were walking into your apartment with a guy. You were smiling and laughing,” he pauses for a second, the pain in his heart glints in his eyes, “and I thought that maybe my plan had worked out and that you were thriving.”
For the second time tonight, I feel like I can’t get a hold of reality. They say the truth can set you free, but this? This feels suffocating, like I'm drowning in what could have been if he had just talked to me. I squeeze my eyes shut, feeling the tear leak out the side. “I don’t know what you expect me to do with this West.”
“Honestly, I’m not sure either, but I wanted you to have all the facts before you end up married to the wrong guy.” His eyes glisten with tears as the full weight of what his decisions have come to settle on him.
Unable to take this anymore, I stand up. “Well, next time you decide to make a life-altering decision for me, maybe consider respecting me and my thoughts enough to have a conversation,” I point at him, “because you ruined everything for no good reason. You broke my heart that day. And I’ve been fighting every single day to put it back together, and now you tell me this?” My hands drop off the back of the chair as I step away. “I think I need to go. I can’t do this.” I sob, as my tears steadily track down my face.
The sound of Weston’s chair scratching against the floor fills the room. “Willow, wait, please talk to me.” He reaches out, gently wrapping his hand around mine.
Wiping my tears, I pull my hand out of his. “The time for talking was twelve years ago. This is too much. I need some space from you right now.” This dinner has suddenly become another scrape on my heart. I rush to the stairs, wanting a wall and as much space between us.
“Willow, wait.” His hand gently stops me as I stride up the first few stairs. My temper is fully boiling now, I whirl around to find him eye to eye with me. He leans in close, the scent of him wrapping me up; it’s almost like a balm over my scuffed-up heart, turning my anger to a dull simmer. After all this time, even when he’s the one who’s the reason my heart is broken, it still yearns for him.
With his face so close to mine, we are eye to eye. God he’s so close, if I moved just an inch forward my lips could be on his. And I hate that I want that. I shouldn’t. I know it was twelve years ago, and he was young and dumb, but he’s had years to fix it.
“I have something I really need you to know.” He wets his lips and my eyes track the movement.
Breathlessly, I ask, “What?” What could he possibly need to say this close to me?
His own eyes catch on my lips before he looks at me again. “I’m gonna make you trust me again, Willow. I’ll put in the work everysingle day to show you that I am the man for you. I spent the last twelve years obsessing over you, missing you, and wishing you were here for me to love, and now that you are here, I’m gonna win you back,” he says with finality. “I’m pretty sure I have quite a big say in that,” I say, holding my head, squaring off with him.
“Yeah, but when your head catches up with your heart, there’s gonna be no denying that you were made for me. And I’m not letting you go this time.” He says it with such conviction and passion that I have no choice but to believe him. “I made that mistake once and I’m never making it again. You’re gonna be mine again, Willow, just watch and see.” He grabs my hand, squeezing it before starting down the few stairs he climbed, “I’m sorry for ruining dinner. I can leave so you can eat?” he asks.
“I just want to go to bed.” My voice sounds as breathless as I feel. Without looking back, I rush to my room. Once the door is closed, I sink to the floor. A guttural sob crawls up my throat. Half because of his confession, half because I miss him, and I miss us. There’s no denying it anymore. I feel so incredibly lost in this chaos that he created.
I stay there, getting my bearings and letting myself feel the things I’ve been refusing. If there is going to be any moving forward, any chance of me coming back from this, I can’t shove it down.
A gentle rap at the door startles me; I don’t get up right away. I wipe away my tears, steeling my nerves for whatever he has to say. When I swing open the door, he’s nowhere to be found. But my plate of dinner is sitting there, alongside a steaming brownie and “I’m sorry,” written on the back of an envelope in his messy scrawl.
