My bag falls off my shoulder, and I don’t bother catching it before it plunks against the concrete with a dreary plop. My tears follow its lead as I dip my head and begin to cry.
“Willow,” Wes breathes, dropping everything in his hands as he steps up behind me and wraps his arms around my middle, nuzzling his chin into the crook of my shoulder. “Tell me what to do. Tell me how to fix this.”
“I don’t think I can go to sleep until we talk about it.” I shake my head, wiping my eyes and swallowing down the emotion choking me. “I can’t go to sleep beside you until I know how you feel.”
Wes moves away from me, a chill biting my spine in the absence of his warmth. I hear the sound of shuffling before hewalks past me, sliding through the gate that leads toward the guesthouse. “C’mon, love,” he says quietly, holding it open for me before he continues to the porch. He drops our things on the bottom step, but rather than ascending toward the door, he spins, taking my hand as he walks around the railing and toward the staircase that leads down the cliffside.
“The beach?” I ask.
“When we step back inside that house, I’m going to make sure you understand exactly the way I feel about you, Willow. I figure the sand and beneath the stars are as good a place as any to lay it all out.”
He moves with purpose, fingers locked tightly around mine, shoulders flexing as he bustles down the steps, hauling me along with him. When we reach the sand, I slip off my shoes, leaving them beside the bottom stair as I follow Wes toward the waves.
The clock on Liv’s dash read just after two o’clock in the morning, and the crescent moon is high above the horizon, the night barely lit by its soft white cast over the rippling expansion of the Pacific. It’s dead silent outside the sway of palms and the lap of low tide crashing against the shore.
Weston finds our familiar piece of driftwood, stepping over it before sinking down in front of it. He peers up at me, patting the ground beside him. I fall into the sand, drawing my knees to my chest and clasping my arms around them.
My shoulder aligns with Weston’s bicep. Warmth radiates in each place our skin touches, but he doesn’t hold me. We take a quiet moment to watch the tides rise and rinse over the sand before retreating home.
“I’m not upset with you for not telling me. I want to make sure you understand that, and if you’re still not ready to talk about it, that’s okay, but if you’d like to...” He gently places one of his hands over mine. “I’m here.”
I don’t know if I’m ready to talk about it. If Parker hadn’t shown up at the competition, if he hadn’t said what he did, today wouldn’t have been the one I’d have chosen to disclose this part of my past to Weston. Not because I don’t trust him, and not because he doesn’t deserve to know, but because I wanted to savor this happiness just a little longer.
The more time I spent with Weston, the more I confident I became that he’d accept every part of me, but that lingering fear still gnawed at the depths of me, and I couldn’t force the words from my mouth, even in the moments I wanted to.
Though, now that I’ve seen his reaction, I feel silly for ever doubting him to begin with. I now realize that I’ll likely never feel ready to talk about this, but that doesn’t mean Weston doesn’t deserve to know. I’ll face it for him, cut myself open, because I know he’ll heal my wounds.
That he’ll let me heal his too.
“Part of me was scared of how you’d react to it,” I admit. “Sometimes, I’d think I found the courage to tell you, and then the realization that I’d have to go through this with every new person I meet for the rest of my life would settle in, and it would become overwhelming. It’s so... heavy. The wondering whether someone I’ve grown to care may actually hate me if they knew the depth of my past.” Emotion pricks the back of my throat, making my voice rough and grainy. “I don’t regret it, and I’m not ashamed, but sometimes those reminders are a mantra I have to keep on repeat in my mind, because I know there are people out there who desperately want me to feel both. It’s exhausting.” I bite my lip, nose stinging with tears as I look at Weston, who is watching me with misty eyes of his own. “You were an escape, I think.”
“I’ll still be that for you, Willow.” He squeezes my hand, smiling softly. “It’ll be easier now that I know what I’m helping you escape from.”
I squeeze his back—four times. Resting my head on his shoulder, I sigh. “I’m sorry you had to find out that way.”
“Don’t apologize for that. It isn’t your fault.” His gaze drifts toward the dark horizon, and I follow suit. “I’m sorry you had to hear the things he said to you, and I’ll be reminding you every fucking day how incredible you are until they’re forgotten.”
I love you.
The words are right there. Lingering on my lips, desperate to float into the air between us, and yet... I think I need to hear him say it first. I need the confirmation that every piece of me will be accepted, that I can truly let go of my past and my pain—I can hand it all to him and he’ll cherish me anyway.
“Thank you,” I whisper.
He nods, pressing his lips to the top of my head before we both look out the ocean again. We’re quiet for a while, soaking in the warmth of each other’s body heat and the crashing of the waves.
“I wanted to hurt him, Willow,” Weston finally whispers, as if speaking too loudly may wake some sleeping monster beneath his skin. “Walking away from him reminded me of the moment I was hauled off my father. The sick smile on his bloodied and broken mouth when they pulled me away, because we both knew he’d won. He’d never face the consequences for his crimes, but I paid on his behalf. I haven’t felt a primal urge to harm someone since I last looked into the eyes of the man who made me—but it awoke in me today when I looked into the eyes of the man who hurt you. I hated leaving Parker there, knowing he’ll get to go home, go back to his life and, so long as he adheres to the restraining orders, he’ll be able to pretend like nothing happened.”
Disgust trickles down my spine, nipping at my nerves with a frost-bitten chill.
The restraining order I filed against Parker two days ago hasn’t processed yet, but it should go through soon. I know we’ll have that to protect us moving forward, especially after we add today’s confrontation to the file, but it doesn’t change the fact that he’ll never truly be held responsible for my assault.
“I thought about reporting him for the assault, but I ultimately didn’t have the strength. Not after... everything,” I admit hoarsely. “I wasn’t sure what good it would do. What difference it would make. It would be too hard to prove, and it all felt heavy. It hurtallthe time, and I just wanted to find a way to see past it.” My voice shatters when I add, “You made me see through it. Something brighter on the other side of healing. I wanted to leave it behind me.”
His hand moves to my back, dancing over my spine, just a whisper of a touch. “I don’t blame you. The justice system had all the evidence they needed to incarcerate my father for the lifetime of pain he caused my mom, for her death itself, and yet he walks free even now.” Weston sighs, a shuddering and haunted breath that seeps into my very bones. “Your healing is the priority.” Wrapping his palm over my knuckles, he squeezes. “It’s my priority too.”
I’m still looking at the horizon when Weston shuffles, pulling my gaze to him. He’s facing me now, fierce conviction shimmering in his eyes as he studies me with thorough intensity. “I wanted to hurt Parker the same way I wanted to hurt my father. The kind of way that makes me wonder if the world wouldn’t just be better off without them. I wanted to hurt them in the kind of way that feels like taking justice for myself.Thatis my deepest truth. It wasn’t the snap of a band that launched me at my dad that day, it was an instinct to well and truly kill him. Sometimes...” He swallows, eyes drifting down. “Sometimes I wish I had.” He lifts his chin, gaze clashing against mine again.“I felt that today, but unlike before, I walked away. I walked to you.”
I flip my hand over, twining my fingers with his. “I don’t blame you for those thoughts. I don’t judge them. I think I’d have them too.”
