Chapter 32 Shannon
Shannon
My heart is broken, it doesn’t make me feel any better when I re-read his texts.
Wesley hasn’t stopped texting me since this morning.
Last night I stayed at my parents’ house needing space from him, but this morning mum didn’t give me the chance to mope around, she sat me down like always when I’m feeling lost, she pulls out the biscuit tin and places it in the middle of the table and a cup of coffee in front of me.
Her hand covers mine, soothing it as she speaks.
“I think Wesley’s a nice man, he certainly cares about you, darling.
” If that were true, he has a funny way of showing it.
I don’t reply, just sit here and listen.
I know mum’s pissed off about me and Barney, she’s been walking around here with heart eyes since she heard he was coming back.
Dad on the other hand couldn’t care less about him, he thinks he’s wet around the ears, too soft for me. Everyone knows I love a good challenge.
“Is this why things didn’t work out between you and Barney?
” And there it is. I could skirt around and change the subject, but she wouldn’t believe me.
So, I tell her half the truth, leaving out the part where he came on to me way too strong, and Wesley punched him in the face, knocking him to the floor.
Doubt Barney would want my mum screaming down his neck and my dad plotting his murder.
“He’s going back to America. We both realised we were better off as friends.
” When I went to see him before the BBQ, we managed to talk.
He was so embarrassed, I could see he was sorry about what he did.
It doesn’t excuse him for putting his hands on me or kissing me without my permission, but he admitted he deserved what Wesley dished out.
“He wouldn’t be happy here, Mum.” She hums in response, she knows I’m not telling her everything, but doesn’t press on, besides, I’m done with talking about him. It’s Wesley I need to talk about.
She must sense it because she changes the subject.
“When your dad and I found out we were having you, I told him not to give up rugby.” She looks off into the distance like she’s back there. “He told me not on his life would he miss time with his kid,” she says, taking a Hobnob from the tin.
“Your dad gave up on his dreams to support me. He went out and got a job he hated, but he never complained.” Her hand, still on mine, soft and reassuring.
“I knew he hated it, but he had no choice, the bills were piling up, and we took a loan out so he could continue with rugby just before we found out we were pregnant.” I’ve always known how hard my dad worked and the sacrifices he made.
They both made, and this was one of the reasons, even though it’s a small gesture, I wanted to get them season tickets as a thank you.
Mum continues to tell me the story, and I’m sure at the end of her speech, there will be a moral to it.
“He had this friend who was telling him in the pub one night about a job he was going for in engineering. The money was a lot better.” She dunks her biscuit before taking a bite.
I wait for her to finish, wishing she would get to the point.
I have a feeling this is one of those talks where you have to look at it from everyone's side.
“What’s that got to do with dad?” I’ve eaten three Hobnobs while she’s been talking.
“Your dad left the pub and made up some excuse for needing to be home, only he didn’t come home.” I sit forward, resting my elbows on the table. “Where did he go?”
“He went to the company his friend told him about and applied for the same job.” My hand shoots up to cover my mouth. “He didn’t?” She nods, a small smile tugging at the corner of her mouth.
“He got the job. In fact, he got the only job they were advertising.”
“And the friend?” I ask because I hope he got a job too. Mum shakes her head again.
“No, he didn’t get it but gave your dad a smack in the mouth for it.” I get the feeling the moral of the story is about to fall into place.
“He was your dad’s closest friend, Shannon, but he didn’t have a choice.” And there it is — the bloody moral of the story.
Wesley never had a choice. He had to take the job. It wasn’t ever about him wanting the money. No, he needs the money.
Shit, I’ve messed everything up, and guilt rushes through me as I think back to the cruel words I said to him.
“I’ve got to go,” I rush out, my chair scrapes across the floor as I leap to my feet, panic rising in my chest.
What have I done?
Mum smiles, waving me off, as I grab my keys and leave.
Sitting in my car with the engine running, I drop Wesley a text.
Can you come over tonight?
He replies almost instantly, like he’s been waiting to hear from me. It makes me feel even worse.