As I kneel there, the cool tile against my cheek, I hear Will’s distant murmurings comforting the children. It’s an odd tableau—me, retching and weak, and him, stepping into the role of caretaker with a grace I hadn’t known he possessed.
And despite how sick I feel, I can’t help but get that familiar tingling sensation in my lower belly.
There’s no way I can lie to myself. Will taking care of us is hot as fuck.
I rinse my mouth and return to the living room, where Will has somehow managed to serve the girls their broth and settle Julian against his chest. “You don’t have to stay,” I whisper hoarsely as I sink back into the couch. My body is heavy; my pride is heavier still. Even though he’s giving me what I want—no, what I need—the fact that it’s coming from him is disarming.
Worse—I hate that he has to see me like this. My hair is slicked against my forehead and neck with sweat, and my breath must be terrible. I feel weaker than I have in a long time. I’m at his utter mercy, and if he wanted to, he could take advantage. I’m not sure how, exactly, but I feel vulnerable and exposed nonetheless.
“Of course I’m staying,” he responds, lifting an eyebrow in disbelief. Gwen shifts until her head rests on his thigh, and my heart breaks for her. “What kind of heartless idiot would leave you to fend for yourself like this?”
I huff out a humourless laugh. “Your buddy Matt, for one,” I tell him, not without a bit of spite in my tone. “If he’d bothered to answer the phone, you wouldn’t even need to be here right now.” The words scrape against my raw throat.
Will’s face contorts, and I brace myself. There it is. His nasty side is about to break out of this ‘nice guy’ facade. I should have known. But then?—
“Matthew isn’t my buddy,” he says flatly, and I hear the distaste in his voice, sharp and clear. His eyes meet mine for a brief second, dark with something that looks a lot like betrayal.
I try not to scoff. Matt and Will have been friends for almost as long as they’ve been alive. As far as I know, their mothers were friends or something. They were literally in diapers together. That image almost makes me chuckle.
Almost.
Instead, I focus on the bomb Will just dropped. “Since when?” I ask. The words hang in the air, heavy with my disbelief.
His gaze burns through me. The fingertips pressing against Julian’s back tighten, slightly rustling the fabric of the onesie. “You know.” His tone is clipped.
I blink, trying to process what he means. “Uh, no, I don’t.” Could he mean …
Will takes a deep breath. He looks down at Gwen, whose eyes are half-open, then focuses back on me. “Since that night. Since I saw you rushing out of the party. Since I saw what you had to see.”
I’m swept by a mix of emotions: first, gratitude that he has the tact to withhold the truth from Gwen. As much as I despise Matt, I’m not going to poison his daughters against him. ButI also feel the inkling of something else swell in my heart. Something dangerous.
Confusion sweeps the rest of it away. “Wait … you didn’t know?” All this time, I’d assumed Will knew of Matt’s betrayals. That he’d conspired with him to keep it hidden from me. It’s the whole reason I felt so disgusted when I saw him walk in that day at the café.
Remove that fact, and it changes everything.
Absolutely everything.
“No.” He repositions Julian against him to shift his position on the couch. “I found out five seconds after you did. And every ounce of love and respect I had for the guy went out the window the moment I saw.” He stands, gently coaxing Gwen’s head aside, and heads into the kitchen.
I’m left staring at his retreating back with a thousand questions running through my mind.
But he’s back soon, holding a glass of water. Julian’s no longer in his arms; I’m assuming he laid him down in his crib. He hands the glass to me. “Here, drink.” Will’s hand, warm and firm, wraps around mine, coaxing me to take the glass.
For half a moment, I revel in the comfort of his skin on mine. But I force the thought away.
I sip the water, the coolness soothing my parched throat. He watches me intently. The Will I thought I knew—the one who I assumed would side with Matthew without question—is nowhere to be found in those black eyes. In his place is someone I’ll have to get to know again from scratch.
“Thank you,” I whisper, though I’m not sure if it’s for the water or for something else. Like for kicking Matt out of his life when he finally let his true colours shine.
Even after I’ve thanked him, his gaze lingers. “Do you really think I could keep him in my life after he showed such blatant disrespect for you?”
I ignore the rush of warmth that floods through me. “I did.” And now I feel extremely ashamed for thinking it, too. Why did I assume he knew? I replay that moment from a year ago in my mind and try to remember the look Will and I shared as I ran from what I saw. Back then, I’d thought the worry on face was for his friend who’d just been caught.
But what if that worry was for me? For how frazzled I’d seemed?
Before Will can respond, I breathe out, “And I’m sorry.” His eyes soften. “I’ve been …” I look down at Heather, who’s still lying on my lap, then at Gwen, who doesn’t seem to be listening. I lower my voice anyway. “… a bitch.”
Will’s mouth lifts into a teasing smile. “I wouldn’t say that. You were just acting on what you believed.”
