38. Chapter 38
Chapter 38
BECKY
I tapped my foot impatiently as I stared at the ancient laptop, willing it to boot up. The little loading circle seemed determined to twirl forever. Finally, the screen flickered to life, and I quickly signed into my email. As I skimmed through the clutter of new messages, my heart did a little flip when I spotted Weston’s name eighth from the top. I hovered over it, almost too scared to click on it.
After a few seconds of staring at the screen, I clicked open.
My eyes devoured his words. As I read, the paragraphs seemed to warm me from the inside out, each sentence dissolving my doubts, making my heart soften and swell. With every line, I felt myself sinking deeper into the belief that Weston could love me. Each word confirming what my heart so desperately wanted to believe.
Without thinking, I picked up my phone and hit Weston’s number. He answered on the first ring, as if he had been waiting for a call. My heart pounded in my chest, and I suddenly worried that I might be interrupting him at work.
“Hi,” his deep voice was steady, reassuring.
“Hi,” I replied, my voice trembling as tears welled up. I squeezed my eyes shut, trying to hold back the flood of emotions threatening to overwhelm me.
“Becky,” he whispered. The softness of his tone wrapped around my heart.
“You sent me emails,” I said, my words catching in my throat.
“I did,” he replied gently.
“I had no idea. If only I had known. I’m heartbroken, Weston.” My voice cracked, and I could no longer hold back the sobs. I pressed a hand to my mouth, trying to stifle the sound, but it was no use.
“Why? Why are you heartbroken?” His concern was palpable, each word laced with genuine worry.
“Because I missed you so much. I thought you wanted nothing to do with me,” I confessed.
I could hear the rustling of papers, a door closing, then the background chatter lessen.
“Becky, I’ve always wanted to be with you. I never stopped thinking about you. Those emails were my way of reaching out, hoping you’d see them and know how much you mean to me.”
I clutched the phone tighter, my knuckles turning white as if it were a lifeline. “I was so scared, Weston. I thought I had lost you forever.”
“You didn’t,” he said. “I’m here. Right here, and I’m not going anywhere.”
I imagined him on the other end, his strong, capable hands gripping his phone, his eyes mirroring the pain and longing in mine.
“Do you still feel the same way as you said in your emails?” I asked, holding my breath.
“I really do,” he affirmed. “I love you, Becky. More than anything, I want to be by your side.”
A sigh escaped my lips, the weight of my fears and insecurities lifting ever so slightly. “I’m in love with you too, Weston. So much.”
“Sweetheart, please don’t cry. You’re ripping my heart out over here,” Weston pleaded.
“I’m crying because I’m happy,” I managed to say between sobs, the relief and joy in my heart overwhelming. “I was so afraid that you had moved on. That you forgot about me.”
“Never,” Weston said, the word filled with conviction.
“Can we start over?” I asked, daring to hope.
There was a pause on the other end. “At this stage, I will take whatever you are willing to give me. I’ll do anything to show you how much I need you in my life,” he said, his voice raw and sincere.
Tears welled up in my eyes again, and I had to bite my lip to keep them from spilling over. “Don’t say things like that,” I replied, my voice shaking.
“Why?” he asked, his worry evident.
“Because I won’t be able to stand being so far away from you,” I admitted, my heart aching with the truth of my words. The distance between us felt like an insurmountable chasm.
“Then don’t stand it. Come visit me or I’ll come to you.”
“Really? Could we just do that?”
“It’s the only sensible thing to do.”
His adorable reply had me wanting to just do it, to jump on a flight in the next two minutes. But then reality came crashing in again. My court hearing was in four days.
“I’m so embarrassed to say this, but I have a court hearing in four days. Aside from the cost of flying, I can’t be going anywhere right now. ”
“I’m so sorry. I never gave you a chance to tell me what’s going on with all of that. Would you be willing to tell me now?”
I paused gathering my courage. “Um… I hate this… even talking about it now fills me with so much shame. I wish I could present to you a Becky who has it all together. A Becky who could seamlessly fit into your world without a second thought. But I can’t do that.”
I paused, swallowing hard. “The truth is, this is who I am,” I continued. “I’m just this Becky, the one with heaps of debt, the one who’s struggling to keep her head above water. I know it’s not what you expected or wanted, and I’m sorry for that. But I need you to see the real me, not the person I wish I could be.”
“Becky, please don’t feel embarrassed. I care about you so deeply, and your happiness is what matters most to me. Your financial situation won’t change how I feel about you. Can you tell me what happened? How did you end up in this situation?”
My heart ached at his words. Could he look past my debt? “Ah, my face is so red right now,” I admitted, feeling the heat in my cheeks. “Basically, from the time I knew how to earn and spend money, I have been overspending. I kept living in denial, thinking I could get on top of it next month, and I never did. Eventually, it all caught up with me. That’s what you saw. You saw Debtsure delivering my summons. I’ve been going to therapy since I got back to Atlanta, and now I realize I was using shopping as a crutch to support my shaky sense of self. But I am working through it.”
“Oh, my girl, I am so sorry you’ve had to deal with this.”
“It’s okay. It’s good for me to face the consequences. But that’s why I can’t see you right now. I need to deal with this court hearing.”
“Darcy told me you were hosting a garage sale. How much of your debt have you managed to cover?”
“As it stands, I have about a third covered. But at the hearing this week, we’ll agree on a payment plan, and I will have to chip away at it.”
There was a pause, the kind that makes your heart skip a beat. I imagined Weston on the other end, his brow furrowed, deep in thought. Was he finally realizing that I was too much of a mess for him?
“Becky, I don’t want to say the wrong thing here.” His voice was soft, hesitant.
I took a deep breath, bracing myself for the impact of the words I knew were coming. “I can handle it,” I said, my voice trembling but resolute. “Just say whatever you need to say. I know I messed up. ”
“Oh Becky, it’s nothing like that. I wanted to know if you would let me help you cover the remaining debt?”
“Oh.” The offer caught me off guard, and I stumbled over my words. “I couldn’t possibly accept something like that, Weston.”
“Why not?”
“Because I created this problem, and I need to fix it.”
“Becky, you created this problem when you were eighteen, without proper guidance from the adults in your life. It’s not like you got into this mess with a clear understanding of the consequences. I love that you want to solve it all yourself. And if that’s what you truly want, I won’t interfere.”
“I feel like it’s too much.”
“I promise. I can handle it. Please let me handle it for you. I don’t want it to be something that stresses you out. Plus, if the debt is paid, I can buy you a flight to Hilton Head. I am aching to hold you in my arms. Or I will come there. Whatever. I know I sound desperate right now. But I am.”
“Why are you so sweet?”
“I’m not so sweet; I just miss my girl too much and I don’t want you to stress about this anymore.” There was a brief muffled sound, and I heard Weston telling Demi to block his calls. “Sorry, I’m back. ”
The mere thought of seeing him again, sent a shiver down my spine. “Weston, I... I don’t know what to say.”
“Just say yes, Becky. Let me take care of you.”
I closed my eyes, imagining his wonderful arms around me, the scent of his cologne, the sound of his heartbeat. “I must be losing my mind because I feel like I want to say yes to your offer. I just want to be where you are.”
“Say yes then. Please. We’ll both be happier for it.”
“Okay, only if you promise this won’t put you in any difficulty financially,” I said, my voice tinged with concern.
Weston’s deep, reassuring laugh came through the phone. “My bank account probably won’t even notice. So, is it settled?”
I hesitated for a moment, my heart pounding in my chest. “Okay, yes, please.”
“Consider it done.”
“Thank you, Weston. I don’t feel like I deserve this.”
“Nope, I don’t feel like I deserve someone as precious and pure as you,” he countered softly, his words melting away my doubts.
“When can I see you?” I asked, a sudden wave of longing crashing over me. The thought of being apart any longer was almost too much to bear .
“Is now too soon?” he replied, a hint of mischief in his tone.
“What, like, get on a plane today?” I asked, my eyes widening at the thought.
“Like the first possible flight. And I’ll pay for it,” he said, his eagerness pouring through the phone and filling up my heart.
I laughed, the sound echoing through my empty living room. His enthusiasm was contagious. “Okay, I have my laptop in front of me. I will see what I can find.”
“Yes! Would it embarrass you to know that I am dancing in my office right now?”
“As long as you are dancing to Enya, then I approve,” I teased, picturing him moving around his office, a grin plastered on his face.
“Looks like the next flight will arrive tonight. Will that work?” I asked, my fingers flying over the keyboard as I searched for more flights.
“Yes, send me the details, and I’ll book it.”
I booked the flight while still chatting with him, my heart overflowing with joy. The thought of seeing him so soon filled me with bubbling excitement, like a shaken soda bottle ready to burst. Thank you, God .
I heard Weston talking to someone on the other side of the phone. Then his voice filtered back to me again. “Hey sweetheart, I have to go. But I’ll see you soon. Okay?”
“Okay.”
“I’ll be the love-struck fool waiting at the arrivals terminal. 8 pm, right?”
“Yes, I can’t wait,” I squealed into the phone.
I canceled the call and took a moment to dance around my apartment for a solid five minutes. Then I got to planning my trip. It was Thursday, and I realized I could easily have one of my friends cover for me during class this afternoon and the following day. Plus, with the countless hours I’d poured into work, my request for leave would be met with nods, not questions.
The moment the decision settled in my heart, my hands moved of their own accord, stuffing clothes, toiletries, and essentials into my bag. As I moved around my small apartment, excitement coursed through my veins. The prospect of seeing Weston again after all this time was both exhilarating and nerve-wracking.
With a restless energy, I got myself to the airport. In my eagerness to get to Weston, I landed up getting to the airport three hours early. So early that when I tried to check-in, the flight attendant offered me a spot on an earlier flight. Of course I took it. I could surprise Weston by getting there in the afternoon instead of the night. Every second in transit was a countdown, each tick of the clock bringing me closer to him. The plane touched down, and I rushed through the airport processes. I just wanted to get to Gray’s house as quickly as possible hoping that I could be there before Weston arrived home from work.
I called Hank, my trusty driver, and he arrived promptly. The journey to Gray’s house was a blur, my mind a whirlpool of thoughts. Perhaps a little late, I wondered if he’d still be staying there? I sent Elle a text, seeking reassurance. The reply came swiftly—Weston was indeed still there, his renovations unfinished. Phew.
When I arrived, I opened the gate with the code Elle had given me and I sat on the front steps of the house for what seemed like an eternity, waiting for Weston to arrive. The late afternoon sun beat down, warming my skin, but I didn’t care. I was lost in thought, lost in anticipation. What would Weston think of me getting here earlier than expected? Would his eyes light up at seeing me?
An hour passed and nature called. I needed to use the restroom, but I didn’t want to leave. I contemplated my options, trying to think of a way to stay and wait for Weston. Eventually, I decided to climb through the lounge window again. I didn’t want to trespass, so I promised myself I would only use the bathroom and then return to the front steps.
As I climbed through the window, memories flooded back to me. This was the same window I had climbed through the last time I was here. But this time was different—this time, I dared to hope Weston would be happy to see me.
As I washed my hands, I glanced up at the mirror and saw a less than perfect reflection staring back at me. My hair was a mess and my barely there makeup had faded throughout the day. But as I focused on myself in the mirror, I couldn’t help but smile. This was a different Becky, one who was confident and unapologetic. My hope was placed firmly in God, not in someone else’s perception of me.
I made my way toward the exit window. I didn’t even bother checking the pots on the stove. This was not a time for distractions. The curtain flapping from the open window beckoned me. That’s when it hit me—I’d never climbed out of this window before. I tried to figure out the best way to make my escape. Should I go headfirst, like in the movies? Or maybe sideways, like a ninja? In the end, I played it safe and wiggled out feet first. Worm vibes all around, but it was the smartest option. I didn’t want to break any bones before I reconnected with Weston.
As I dangled out of the window, I giggled at how ridiculous I must look. My feet scrambled for purchase on the wall as I lowered myself to the ground. My hands still rested on the windowsill when I heard someone clear their throat behind me.
“What do you think you’re doing?”