Chapter 29
Wesley
As I stand here, staring at the girl I want to spend the rest of my life with, the hurt in her eyes—hurt I know I caused—claws at my chest, drowning me in guilt and breaking my heart.
I feel like the worst person in the world.
We’ve gone all these years with barely a hiccup in our relationship, and now, not even two months into taking the leap of faith into dating, I’ve already screwed it up.
“Wes.” Her voice cracks. “I don’t like this. Maybe this was all a mistake. If you don’t want to date me, then you just need to tell me so we can—”
“That’s not what it is, Addison.”
“It’s not?”
I shake my head. “No.”
“Then what is it? Why are you pulling away? What did I do?”
“You didn’t do anything, babe, I promise. I just—” I stop myself. Remembering the promise I made to my dad. I rub my hand over my face and look back at her. “Addie, I just have a lot on my plate right now with the farm and my family.”
Her jaw tightened as she swallows. “I know that, Wesley, but the way you treated me the other night was uncalled for.
“I’m sorry. I shouldn’t have treated you that way.” My voice is low and rough with guilt. I raised my voice at her the other night and it haunts me in my sleep.
“I don’t want to say ‘it’s okay,’” she murmurs, eyes falling to the ground, arms crossed.
“I don’t want you to be okay with it. I want you to give me hell if I ever treat you like that again.”
Her eyes lift back to mine and she suppresses a smile.
Relief hits me, but I don’t let myself feel it. I owe her more than that. She deserves the truth.
I take a few more steps over. “There’s something I need to tell you,” I say quietly. “But you can’t tell anyone. Not a soul, Addison. I mean it.”
Her eyebrows twitch and the her face pales. “Okay…”
I walk back to the woodstove and she follows behind. I’m expecting her to sit in her usual spot, but she sits beside me instead. The memory of last week crashes over me. Everything I’ve held in for the past week hitting me like a freight train all at once.
I break. The tears come before I can stop them.
Addison grips my arm, her voice alarmed but soft and gentle. “No, no, no, what’s wrong?”
I wipe my hand down my face, thinking it’ll stop the tears, but it doesn’t. I take a deep breath I want to look at her, but I struggle.
Addison’s voice is full of nothing but concern. “Wes, baby, what’s wrong?” I feel her hand swipe up my back and into my hair. She doesn’t wait for an answer. She wraps her arms around me and doesn’t let go.
I swallow. “My dad…had a heart attack. While you were gone.”
Her breath catches and she pushes back. “Oh my gosh, why didn’t you tell me?!”
“He doesn’t want anyone to know. You know how he is.” I bring myself to look at her, her eyes wet now too.
“Wes. You still could’ve told me,” she insists and hugs me again. This time I hug her back. “It’s just been a week of hell for Blake and I, and I’ve never been that scared in my life,” I admit. “Seeing him like that…it shook me.”
We let go of one another and I continue, “And of course he’s pretending like it was no big deal, like nothing happened. But it did. And I’ve been holding it in because someone has to keep going.”
My tears subside but Addison’s build, like my words are breaking her from the inside out.
“Wesley, you are a person, not a robot. You don’t have to hide how you feel.”
“Well, I’ve gotten pretty good at it.” I stand, taking a few steps away.
I think that’s sorta my thing, hiding emotions, not wanting to show them or even talk about them.
It’s kinda just what being a man looked like in my house and it’s all I know.
I guess that’s why I react how I do sometimes, like it builds up too much and I just explode.
That’s what happened with this entire thing about Dad and my feelings for Addison.
I know it’s not okay, and I know it’s something I need to work on.
Addison stands and closes in on me, placing her hands on my chest and gripping onto my sweatshirt. I look at her for a second before her gaze is too powerful, too knowing.
“Wes, I can understand feeling the desire to put your walls up around your parents, or mine, around my brothers, but not with me.” She grabs my face now and forces me to look at her. “You don’t have to pretend with me.” Her brown eyes are soft and sure.
I nod. “I know that.” I swallow. “I’m sorry I didn’t tell you. He didn’t want anyone to—”
“You tell me not to tell anyone something, I won’t. You know I won’t,” she says.
“I know,” I mutter, and my eyes fall away from hers again. But she turns my face, forcing me not to look away.
“Don’t you dare push me away like that again,” she scolds, her voice just steady enough not to crack.
I nod, my throat too tight to speak. I pull her against me for a hug, and for the first time in over a week, I feel like I can breathe.
I really need to remember this moment, that this is exactly why I love her.
Because even after everything I’ve put her through these last couple of days, she’s right here, still loving me.
“I love you.” I kiss her head.
“I love you,” she replies.
We exchange a soft kiss. It feels more meaningful than any that came before. We stop and rest our foreheads together and we just breathe—quiet and close, like the whole world has gone still around us.
* * *
Today is Valentine’s Day. I feel a lot of pressure for some reason.
I don’t know what Addison’s expecting and I don’t want to disappoint her.
I got her a necklace, a card, and flowers.
But that’s pretty much all I could think of.
I’d take her to dinner, but I know that’s triggering for her anxiety and I don’t want that.
When I get to her house, she’s out the front door before I can even step out of my truck. I have to hurry up if I’m gonna get her door for her.
“What’s the rush?” I wonder.
“It’s cold,” she says.
“Well, I had a whole thing planned out,” I tell her, and she scrunches her eyebrows, reaching for my truck door. I beat her to it. “Uh-uh.”
“Look at you.” She smiles and gets in. I stand in the opening and point to the gift and flowers sitting in the middle seat.
“Those are obviously for you. I was going to come to the door with the flowers, but you didn’t give me much chance.”
“I’m sorry.” She rubs my shoulder and smiles.
I eye her up a beat before shutting the door. She’s wearing a long skirt and a chunky red sweater over top. Some of her hair is tied back while the rest is curled and draped over her shoulders.
“You look beautiful, by the way.” I lean in and kiss her smiling lips from the driver’s seat.
Once we get down the lane and onto the road, I can’t help but look her over once more.
“You’re dressed up more than usual?” I say. She’s dressed like she would for church. I’m not complaining, obviously, but it raises questions.
She looks down at herself. “I am?”
“For a truck date? Yeah.”
“Well, I didn’t know about grabbing dinner,” she mutters and looks down at her hands in her lap.
“Oh.” My demeanor perks up. “Really? You wanna?”
“I just wanna try.”
“Where you wanna go?”
“I was just thinking Emilio’s, but if you wanna go to Longhorn or something nicer we can.”
“You pick, baby. I want you to be comfortable.” I rest my hand on her thigh and wait for her decision.
“Then let’s just do Emilio’s. It’s low-key and if I can’t do it—”
“Then we’ll leave,” I finish.
“Okay. I am sorta hungry for their bottomless fries.”
“Yeah, me too. And a burger.”
We get to Emilio’s in town and the parking lot’s packed, as expected.
There aren’t a ton of restaurants around here.
I grab Addison’s hand before we head towards the door.
I notice her body language is different immediately, she’s stiffer.
I watch her take a few deep breaths of the cold air.
Squeezing her hand in mine, I notice her grip is loose.
“You okay?” I ask gently.
She nods. She’s lying. She’s not breathing.
“Maybe we just wait another minute before we go in?” I pull her off to the side. Away from the door and windows. We face each other and I know she’s not going to look at me. I know she’s mentally fighting her mind to stay calm so she doesn’t get sick.
She tilts her chin up to the sky, clearing her airway, and takes in a breath through her slightly ajar lips. Her eyes are delicate. I can’t see much of them in the darkness, but I can see them glistening with unshed tears she’s trying so hard not to let out.
“Take your time.”
She shakes her hands slowly in front of her like it’s going to help stop the ride.
“I just…I don’t know,” she says.
“You wanna get back in my truck?”
“I just…I think it’s the fact that it’s Valentine’s Day. It feels like a bigger deal and—”
“It’s just a day, sweetheart.”
She doesn’t say anything, just nods. Her face pales and she starts gagging.
I spin around and coax her back to my truck with a hand on the small of her back.
She throws up once onto the concrete. I rub her back and open her door to get her some water and a napkin.
She climbs in and I shut the door for her before heading to my side. She’s holding her head in her hands, her elbows on her legs.
“Addison,” I say, “it’s okay.” I reach for her, running my fingers over her back.
“Just…take me home,” she says.
“Can you look at me first?” I ask steadily.
She sits up and her eyes flick over to me, though I know she doesn’t want to.
“Don’t be so hard on yourself.”
“I’ve never gotten this anxious with you, Wesley. I don’t understand.”
“Yes you have. Plenty of times.”
“When?” She crosses her arms.
“Baby, you had a few moments on our trip to Billings.”
She looks out the window. Her shoulders relax. “But I didn’t throw up,” she mutters.
“You had Dramamine in you.” I remind her. “Why don’t I go in and order us something to go? We can eat it at your house?”
“Huh,” she sighs.
“Don’t be upset, please,” I say softly.
“But I told you I wanted to go out, and now I can’t, and I just—”
“Would you stop? It’s fine. I don’t care, babe. I don’t.”
She wipes under her eyes, and I scoot over to wrap an arm around her. “I love you, I appreciate you trying. This was a step in itself.”
“I guess.” She sniffles.
“It was.” I kiss her head. “I’ll be right back. You want a burger and fries? Tomato, pickles, no lettuce?”
“Yes, please,” she murmurs.
I run inside and place our order. The parking lot wasn’t lying…it’s pretty busy tonight, not too many empty tables.
“I changed my mind,” I hear Addison’s voice call out from behind me and then she’s beside me. “I wanna sit,” she says.
“Alright, let’s grab a table.” I gesture to an empty table without a question. I don’t give her a second to overthink it.
While I will never understand why her head works the way it does, I have sat back and listened—learned—for years. And I might not get it right every time, but in this specific moment, I know not to question it and to just follow her lead.