I’ve been open about my decision with my family, but Chelsea’s response is a stark reminder why I don’t share it with anyone outside of those who love me most. It’s why I haven’t told Weston, and now, I can’t imagine how I ever could.
I won’t allow her, or anyone else, to shame me for this.
I straighten, schooling my features. “I don’t think I’m comfortable talking about this with you. I shouldn’t have blurted that out, and I apologize, but the fact of the matter is, I made the decision to leave Berkeley and move home. I had my reasons, and there is no future left for Parker and me. I would appreciate it if you told him to let it go and move on.”
She scoffs. “You never told Parker? You just... abandoned him? You didn’t think he deserved to know, to be part of that decision?”
“No, Chelsea.” I sigh. “He doesn’t deserve to know anything about me ever again.”
Her lips form a line as she blinks in shock before tucking a strand of hair behind her ear. “Honestly, Willow. I’m disgusted right now. You are... You’re kind of an awful person.”
The first tear that spills over my cheek is hot, my hand trembling as I lift it to my face and wipe the moisture away. The light inside me that just began to reignite in the weeks since I returned home snuffed out by the chill of her reaction.
I’m not sure I can blame her. Without the full context, I do sound terrible. Though, I realize now that the truth wouldn’t matter to Chelsea. She was never my friend, she was always his first, and no matter the truth behind my decision to keep my abortion from Parker, she’d choose him anyway. Perhaps she’d accuse me of lying, or she’d believe my choice outweighs his assault—regardless, I don’t want to know. I refuse to sit here and give her the opportunity to explain her contempt.
“I think I should go.” I quickly wipe my eyes, pushing back my chair to stand. “Like I said, I’d appreciate it if you kept this between us. Parker needs to move on. I don’t want to hear from him again.”
Chelsea only stares after me, mouth gaping and eyes wide—appalled and dumbfounded, as I leave the cafe on shaky legs. I stumble through the back, vision blurred by my heavy tears. My chest tightens as a sob rips from my throat. I clutch my ribs, gulping for oxygen, choking on my anguish. The world tilts, and I’m not entirely sure how I even make it to Heathen’s without collapsing.
The bell chimes when I swing the back door open, and the first inhale I’ve been capable of taking rushes through my nose when I find Weston standing behind the register next to Rob, Heathen’s shift manager. His head whips in my direction, hisbeautiful face losing all its color when he soaks me in—a crying, trembling mess.
“Willow, baby,” he gasps, closing the distance between us as he takes my face between his hands. “What happened? Who did this?”
“I need you,” I murmur, voice fractured as the words spill from my mouth in shattered pieces, and I break down in his arms.
CHAPTER 24
WESTON
“C’mere, Wills,” I whisper, hushing her sob as I cradle her head against my chest. Reaching into my back pocket with one hand, I pull out the keys to the shop and toss them at Rob, who’s staring after us, mouth agape—horrified. “Do you mind closing up for me tonight?”
A quiver rushes through Willow as she turns her head into my chest, seemingly hiding from him. Luckily, the shop is otherwise empty, but I’m sure she doesn’t like the idea of anyone seeing her this way—let alone one of her dad’s staff members.
I’m damn-near shaking myself, desperate to know what happened. I need to know who made her feel this way, then I need to figure out how to fix it.
“Don’t you think we should call her?—”
Willow shakes her head against my chest. “Please don’t.”
“I’d appreciate if you could close up for me so I can take my girl home,” I snap. “Can you do that or not?”
He recoils. “Um... yeah, man. I can do that for you.”
“Thank you.” I turn Willow toward the door, guiding her out of the building. “Where are your keys, Wills?”
She pauses, trembling as she pulls them from the purse slung around her shoulder. I lead her to where her car is parked behind Honeysuckle, unlocking it and opening the passenger door. “Let's get you home, love.” I kiss the top of her head as she sinks into the seat before helping buckle her in.
Rounding to the driver’s side, I start up the engine and back out of the spot, leaving the boardwalk. We don’t speak on the short drive back to her parents’ house. Willow only quietly cries beside me, and all I can do is brush my thumb across her thigh, drawing soothing circles.
I need to know every detail of what, or who, upset her, but more importantly, I need to get her home. Help calm her and ensure she’s safe. My only instinct is to cease her tears, and all the adrenaline in my body is surging through my veins, wholly focused on it.
I pull into her spot in the driveway, next to where my truck is parked in the gravel. Killing the engine, I turn to her and ask, “Do you want me to take you to your room, or mine?”
She looks at me, bottom lip quivering, tears swimming in her glistening eyes. “Yours.”
“Okay, baby.” I smile softly.
I hop out of her car, but she exits before I can round the side and help her out. I reach around her, closing the passenger door before wrapping my arm over her shoulder, tucking her in close as we walk through the gate separating the main house and the garage. Willow sniffles when we reach the door of the guesthouse, and I plug her birthday into the keypad, unlocking the door.
