Chapter 38
Wes
“You’re not coming home,” Ivy rasps.
If she could only hear her voice. It’s choppy, and cracks on almost every word. I try to calm my racing heart. Try to take deep breaths. It’s no use.
“Why wouldn’t you tell me?” I ask, my voice sharp.
There’s silence for a moment, and then she answers.
“Tell you I was allergic to walnuts? I don’t know, it’s not something I think about all the time.
I haven’t had a reaction in years. It’s not a regular thing I have to worry about,” she says.
“I just avoid them, and it’s not an issue. It was a mistake.”
Her voice starts out strong, but gets weaker by the end of her sentence. I’m an asshole. I don’t need her explaining herself, she needs rest.
“If I would’ve known you were that allergic to something, I would’ve made sure your medicine, or EpiPen, or whatever it is, was nearby,” I say, my voice so low I might be just talking to myself.
Listening to Sophie try and find Ivy’s EpiPen, was my own personal hell. All I heard was her shouting, and throwing shit around.
I felt so unbelievably helpless.
I squeeze my eyes shut, and try to push away the burning sensation.
Visions of Sarah being wheeled out of the hospital room flash in my head.
The doctor’s cold hand on my shoulder as she told me Sarah wouldn’t be coming back.
Me sitting on that shitty plastic couch, cradling our brand new daughter, just staring at the door she left through—waiting for someone to come in and tell me it was a mistake.
I wouldn’t be able to survive it if something happened to Ivy. If I ever lost her–
“Wes?” Ivy’s voice breaks through.
“Are you sure you’re okay?” I choke out, as one singular tear escapes.
“Yes, I promise.” Her voice softens. “I’ll make sure I have my medicine easily accessible from now on.”
I clear my throat and wipe the wetness away. “How many more do you have?”
She’s silent.
“Ivy?” I repeat, my tone harder now.
“None.” I can hear the wince. “But I’ll get some more,” she rushes out.
“I’m buying a hundred of them,” I say through gritted teeth.
Ivy giggles at that, but I’m not joking. The second I get home, I’m buying as many as I can get my hands on. I don’t care if you can’t get them over the counter. I know a doctor, I have an in. I’ll threaten Beau if I have to.
Speaking of.
“I need to call someone real quick, and then I’ll call you right back to check on you,” I tell her.
“What? Okay, Wes? You’re not coming home, alright?” There’s a plea in her voice, but I ignore it. “I promise. I’m fine, baby,” she says quietly.
“Oh, barf!” I hear Sophie in the background.
Ivy giggles again, but then says more seriously, “You’re not coming home.”
It’s my turn to laugh. “Watch me.”
————
Calling the woman I’m in love with in hopes of having some hot as fuck phone sex again, but being greeted by my hysterical sister telling me the one I love is in fact dying, is not my most favorite thing to have happened to me.
That’s why I’m opening my front door at five in the morning, two days earlier than planned, in desperate need to see Ivy in the flesh. I need to see that she’s okay for myself. Ivy protested furiously about my return, ensuring me she was absolutely fine. But it wasn’t good enough.
Even after Beau checked Ivy over, and concluded she would be just fine, I still booked the very next flight home.
Ivy had a lot of opinions about Beau coming over with Sophie there, but I don’t give a shit about my sister’s lovers quarrels when Ivy’s life is on the table.
When I said the same thing to Ivy, she reminded me that her life was firmly not on the table.
Not good enough. It’s not good enough.
I need to see her, touch her, hold her.
Sophie did apologize for her dramatics, remembering that claiming the woman in my life is dying, could be triggering for me.
Understatement.
That entire phone call was a nightmare. Hearing Ivy’s ragged breaths, trying to instruct and tame a wild, frantic Sophie had me feeling entirely hopeless.
I was hours away, in another state, with absolutely no way of stopping my worst fear from happening. Thank god Ivy had what she needed in the house, but what would’ve happened if she didn’t? Would an ambulance have made it in time? Could she have made it to the emergency room in time?
Intrusive thoughts and what if’s haunted me my entire flight. Ironically, I feel like I haven't been able to breathe since last night. Each mile closer to Ivy has lessened the noose on my ribs, and the only thing that I’ve been able to think of, is that I haven’t told her I love her.
What if I lost her and I didn’t get a chance to tell her how utterly and completely gone for her I am. I drop my bag by the door, and toe off my boots, careful to be as quiet as possible to not disturb the house.
It’s dark and silent, along with the world outside. The only light on is the small lamp in the kitchen Ivy brought with her when she moved in, in addition to her spiel about never using the “Big light.” Whatever that means. A light is a light.
I creep down the hall, and peek into Lilah’s room. Her tiny sleeping form is upside down in her bed. Head, at the foot of her bed, and completely splayed out. And of course, snoring.
I continue down the hall, and peek into the guest room, finding a pile of blonde sticking out of the blankets. I need to thank Soph for staying over. I know she was just as shaken up last night as I was, and it gives me a peace of mind that Ivy had someone here for her all night.
Time to go get my girl.
I quicken my pace, moving deftly through the house.
I come to a stop outside my shut bedroom door, and take a deep breath.
I crack it open quietly and slip in, shutting the door once more behind me.
The room is cool and dark, but the faint silver morning light just barely lights the space through the blinds, giving me just enough visibility, but not waking Ivy.
I approach with gentle steps, and see Ivy on my side of the bed, face buried in my pillow. Her long inky strands are fanned out on the white sheets, and like a homing beacon, I run my fingers through the wild waves and finally, finally breathe.
Ivy starts to stir in the cloud of blankets, lifting her hands above her head to stretch like a lazy cat and wiggle. Finally rolling over, she blinks her sleepy eyes open, and our gazes lock.
“Hi,” I sigh out heavier than intended.
Still stroking her hair, I move to her face and caress her cheekbone with my thumb, taking her in, and chanting the words in my head I hope will calm my racing heart.
She’s okay. She’s okay. She’s okay.
I clench my jaw so hard I’m surprised I don’t crack a molar. “Don’t ever do that to me again, okay?” I whisper.
“Okay,” she replies softly, her voice still rough from sleep.
Ivy is quiet, staring up at me with a small dreamy smile for a minute as I continue touching and tracing her features. I’m about to open my mouth to speak again, when her words cut me off at the knees.
“I love you,” she whispers.
My heart seizes in my chest. I’m rooted to the spot, stunned silent. She took the words right out of my mouth. If she only fucking knew. I try to recall the speech I had prepared on the plane, but it escapes me.
My silence doesn’t deter her.
Ivy takes a deep breath, puffing out her cheeks on the exhale, and continues to unravel me completely.
“I love you so much, I feel it in my bones,” she rasps, gently placing a hand over her chest. “You and Delilah. I don’t know how I got lucky enough to land in your life, but I don’t care.
I’m taking it and running. Being with you feels like I stumbled into the best part of my life without even realizing it.
” The grey light in the room has brightened the slightest bit, showing me Ivy’s shrink wrapped eyes.
“You’re it for me, Wesley. You don’t have to say it back, but I just needed you to know that.
That I love you.” Her whisper is so faint, I have to strain my ears to hear the last couple words.
“Ivy.” My voice is pure gravel.
“Really, you don’t–” she cuts me off.
I place a finger to her lips. “Honey, please.”
“Sorry,” she mumbles around my finger, and I drop my hand.
I shuck off my pants, pull off my socks, and grab the back collar of my shirt, pulling it up and over my head. Ivy instinctively opens the blanket, and scoots over to make room for me. I slide into bed with her, and lay on my side, soaking up the warmth from her body.
Facing each other, I wrap my arm around her small frame and drag her into me, wanting there to be absolutely zero space between us.
Looking down at her with our noses almost touching, I take a lungful of her sweet familiar scent.
It cloaks the pillows, and makes me never want to wash my sheets again.
I tuck a rogue curl behind her ear, and her eyes flutter closed as she hums in answer. I go for it, completely forgetting what I had planned to say, and speaking from the heart. “I didn’t fall in love with you.”
She scrunches her nose and whispers, “Ouch.”
“I fucking plummeted.” I say, and my voice cracks. “A fucking nosedive, baby.”
Her eyes fly open at that. “Oh,” she breathes out.
“Headfirst, without a goddamn parachute. And I’d do it again in a heartbeat.”
She inhales shakily, and scans my entire face, nodding.
I think she’s nodding to herself, more than me.
So I continue, “I’m so entirely gone for you it's concerning. You make it impossible not to love you. You came into our lives like a hurricane, but now I can’t even remember what life was like without you.
You’re the fucking sun,” I say, my voice thick.
I brush my nose against hers, and keep going.
“I tried to fight it…but I didn’t stand a fuckin’ chance.
I think I’ve been yours for a very, very long time, Ivy. ”
She sucks in a sharp breath.
“So yeah, baby.” I feel the corner of my lips lift into a smirk, “I love you. I love you so much it hurts, so much that I can’t fucking see straight.”
Ivy lifts her hand up and presses the tip of her finger into my exposed dimple. I lift my hand as well, and wipe away the stray tear rolling down her nose.
I don’t know who moves first, but we meet in the middle and mold our mouths together. I open my lips, and Ivy sweeps her tongue in without hesitation. The kiss is soft and searching, but it’s not just a kiss. It’s the final thread pulling us together.
Having Ivy in my arms feels like the earth finally righted itself on its axis. Like my mess of a life, finally found its peace. Like the noise in my head finally quieted, and all the pieces of my life shifted into place. She makes me feel steady. She’s home.
I cradle her head in my hands, and when I start to deepen the kiss, a small voice echoes just outside the door.
“Iby?” Lilah calls out.
Ivy pulls back, and grins against my lips.
Sniffling, Ivy clears her throat. “Come in,” Ivy calls out.
The hinges creak as the door opens, and we both turn our heads to see the little form in the doorway. Delilah walks over to the bed, with Burrito in tow and nightgown twisted to the side.
She climbs up onto Ivy’s side of the bed and cuddles into her, when she finally spots me.
“Daddy, you’re home,” her soft, sleepy voice says with a yawn.
I reach over Ivy, and grab Lilah’s hand, locking our fingers as best I can with the size difference, and rest our joined hands on Ivy’s stomach. We’re all on the same giant pillow squished together, even though there’s plenty of space on either side of us. I peek over Ivy’s face at my daughter.
“I am,” I reply hoarsely, meaning it with my whole being.
The faintest pink sunlight shines through the room, casting a soft rosy glow over the perfect faces of the two loves of my life. Blue and pale green eyes side-by-side, a pile of dark curls and freckles stare back at me.
You are.
The familiar voice rings through my head, and my throat burns with emotion.
Yeah, I am.