Chapter 27
Wes
I lean against the back of the door to my apartment and lift my hand.
It’s shaking like fuck. My heart is hammering against my chest so hard it hurts.
I slide to the floor, stunned, processing, trying to grasp the fact that I went from having one of the best nights of my life to being dumped so epically that it made my head spin.
My beautiful fucking ‘Whiplash.’
My hands rush to my face as a sob tries to escape me. How can this be over already? It hurts unlike anything I’ve experienced before. I’m struggling to believe that we’re over, just like that. Even breathing is fucking hard.
I still don’t know what the hell just happened.
No, I do. Or I think so.
Jett was clearly triggered by the meds in my hand.
That was the source of his freak-out, and he fucking freaked.
A panic attack, I’m assuming. It has to be related to what happened to him at the Olympics.
I don’t know his story at all. I can only assume, but it explains why he’s been so tight-lipped about it.
It must’ve been really bad, and it’s clearly still affecting him.
It could be something else entirely, but I don’t think so.
I understand well enough the stress that athletes go through and how they can struggle with mental health.
But if you combine that with his strained relationship with his father, he could’ve been the one to exacerbate that stress.
Then there’s the secrecy behind his disappearance from the spotlight.
I’m only putting two and two together. I could be totally off base, but I don’t think so.
Maybe I should’ve pushed him harder to tell me about his past. Maybe he would’ve even felt better after.
Or he could’ve pulled away from me, like this morning.
I wipe my eyes with the heels of my hands and stand.
Jett needs time. That’s all. I’ll give him a little time to calm down, then reach out to him to talk this out.
I’m not about to fucking give up on him.
If there’s anything I’ve learned from my family, it’s that you don’t give up on the people you care about and love.
Oh, fuck.
He at least needs to know that, so I pull my phone out of my back pocket and shoot him a text.
Me: I love you.
Simple and to the point. No word vomit, as I tend to do. It’s not how I wanted to tell him, but he needs to understand that I won’t turn my back on him. I can handle this. He’s fucking worth it, dammit. What I’m not going to let him do is disappear from my life.
God, and that amazing connection with him during sex. I could’ve sworn he felt the same as me. Maybe he didn’t say the words, but I still felt them. All that’s been obliterated. It’s not his fault, though. I’m certain of it.
Give him time, Wes.
I’ll reach out in a couple of days if I don’t hear back.
In the kitchen, I wipe my face with a paper towel and blow my nose. Leaning against the counter, I look around the place. It’s not dirty, but I need a distraction. I’d go out for a run if it hadn’t started raining.
After having some coffee, I set about scrubbing the kitchen, changing my bedsheets, and folding the clean clothes I never got to. I don’t want to do fucking anything but bury myself in bed for the rest of the day, but I need a distraction.
It takes all my willpower not to keep looking at my phone to see if Jett’s responded. The only thing holding me back is being unable to handle the silence. I’m not ready to see that he hasn’t reached back.
A few hours later, I’m tired, emotionally drained, but I feel a little better, filled with more determination to make this work with him. I just need to be patient and give him time to process.
With nothing left to do, I can’t take it anymore, so I swipe open my phone, but there’s nothing there. The amount of disappointment that consumes me nearly knocks the breath out of me. I knew there wouldn’t be, but it still fucking hurts.
Patience, Wes. Patience. He’ll reach out. He can’t ignore you forever.
I look outside, and the rain seems to have stopped. It’s wet and soggy, but I can go for a run. After that, I’ll grab some late lunch.
I avoid the track at the university and go for a run in nature.
It’s muddy, wet, and cold, but I’m in my element.
My head is clearing, and I’m only focused on my feet sloshing through puddles and mud.
With every mile, my head clears, and determination rises in me.
It isn’t just me. I know he feels it too.
What we have is something worth fighting for.
When it starts raining again, I head back home, shivering.
Out of breath, I step into the elevator, carrying the shoes I removed. Everything reminds me of Jett, even this damn elevator. I almost press the button to his floor instead of pressing mine. Everything screams at me to go to him, but I don’t.
The door opens to my floor, and I unlock my condo. I drop my shoes into a trash bag as soon as I step inside. They’re pretty much ruined.
With a sigh, feeling the weight of my loss again, I strip out of my wet clothes and take a shower.
I’m in there for a long time, letting the heat of the water warm my cold bones and soothe my sore muscles. Fragments of that day in the locker room shower with Jett wash over me. Fuck, is everything going to remind me of him? Tears press against my eyelids again, and I swallow back the hurt.
As I get out, running a towel through my hair, I hear my phone blowing up with texts and calls.
“Shit!” I yell out loud. He’s calling me back sooner than I expected. Fuck, yeah! Excitement and relief course through me as I rush to snag my phone, but instead of seeing ‘Whiplash’ calling, it’s my granddad. My soul deflates in disappointment.
“Hey, Granddad! What’s up?” I answer with more excitement than I feel. I’m not ready to tell him what’s happened yet.
“Wes! There you are,” he says out of breath.
I swallow because his tone sends warning bells through me.
“What’s going on?”
“It’s your mom… You need to get home. She’s had a seizure.”
I freeze, and my hand grips my phone so tightly I’m afraid I’ll break it. “What do you mean? Is she okay? What happened? She hasn’t had one in so long. Has she not been taking her—”
“Hold on, son… Before you work yourself up, she’s fine. She fell when she seized and hit her head… again. They have her in the hospital for observation, but I know you’ll want to be there for her. And she’s been asking for you. She needs you, son.”
I run a hand through my wet hair. The last thing my mother needs is more brain injuries. “Jesus. Yeah, I’m on my way.”
“Don’t rush and risk a car accident. The roads are wet.”
“I won’t.”
We say our goodbyes, and I email my boss and Don to let them know I’ll be out on Monday due to a family emergency. Don can help out with my rounds.
I get dressed, grab my keys, and run out of there.
I want to call Jett, but I don’t. In fact, I need time to process everything myself. Mom needs me now.
It’s late afternoon by the time I arrive at Providence Seaside Hospital. As soon as I step inside, I see my grandparents in the waiting area.
When they see me, they stand, and we all hug, holding each other for a long time.
“How is she?” I ask when we pull away.
“She’s getting another round of scans, and we were told to wait out here. The first scans were for her concussion. Now they want to check the left hemisphere from when she first injured herself years ago.”
I sit down, and my grandparents follow my lead. “Have you seen her yet? Tell me everything that happened.”
“Yes, we’ve seen her. She’s madder than a hornet, but who can blame her after everything she’s been through?” Grandma says.
Granddad grabs her hand. “We didn’t even know she had seized and fallen. She was supposed to come to the kitchen for breakfast…”
“I found her on the floor, lying facedown… God, I thought… I thought….” Grandma grabs a tissue from the box sitting on the table and wipes her eyes. “I don’t know how long she was lying like that. Seizures don’t last that long, so I know she hurt herself again.”
“Your grandmother called for me, and we lifted her onto the bed. She had some bleeding from her temple. We think as she went down, she hit her head on the corner of her dresser.”
I rest my elbows on my knees and rub my face. “Jesus. Poor Mom. Do they know if she’ll have more brain damage or…”
Granddad shakes his head. “We don’t know. They want the swelling to go down a bit before they do more scans to be sure.”
I’m not sure what I’d do if I lost her. She’s everything to me.
She chose to keep me after getting pregnant, and even with a disability and struggling to speak, she’s been an amazing mother.
She stepped up to the plate and did what she had to.
My mom’s the one who really taught me determination and how to push myself to do what’s best, even when it’s hard.
Yes, she had a support system, which definitely helped, but I know even if she didn’t, she wouldn’t have done anything differently.
It took over an hour before we were allowed back into her room. My grandparents stayed behind, allowing me to be alone with her.
When I step inside, she’s resting, her eyes closed. Seeing a bandage on the injured area tugs at my heart. It’s something I haven’t seen since I was a young teen. That’s how long it’s been since she had a seizure.
I sit on the edge of the bed and hold her hand. Her eyes flutter open and land on my face. As soon as she sees me, her face crumples, and she starts crying.
Fuck.
My eyes start watering, too. Between this and Jett, I’m emotionally wrung out.
She reaches for me, and I lean forward to hug her as she cries. You can feel how tired she is. Not from exhaustion, but frustration.
“Hey, mamasita.”
“Sssorry…” she says.
I pull away and brush back her hair from her face. “There’s nothing to be sorry for.”
“I-I-I ssssstopped… t-taking it.”
“Your anti-seizure meds?”
She nods, her wide, red-rimmed eyes filled with guilt. “Thought I-I… www-was okay.”