32. CHAPTER THIRTY-TWO
CHAPTER THIRTY-TWO
Joss
M y knee bounces beneath the table, hands fiddling with my napkin as I try to center myself and take in my surroundings. I’m tucked away in a booth toward the back of the restaurant. It was the only table that would provide a modicum of privacy for us.
I rarely have the opportunity to dress up, and other than that double date with Jaz, I never go out to fancy dinners. So now, especially with what I’m about to do, I’m feeling more than a little uncomfortable in my skin as I shift in my seat.
What if he doesn’t show up? What if he decided I wasn’t worth the trouble and went home? I’m on the verge of getting up and walking away when I hear a voice behind me .
“Joss.” It’s just my name, but the fact that he’s really here calms me enough to face him.
“Hi, Brian.” My voice feels foreign, wavering over the name. Just like my resolve never to call him Dad again. Because in the light of today, with just the two of us here, I almost want to. I stand and take him in as he approaches the table. I was so focused on keeping my control yesterday that I never took the time to look at him closely. He’s still so tall, just like when I was a kid. I haven’t grown much since then, and I wish I could have gotten some of his height.
His navy suit is expensive-looking—exquisitely tailored and pressed to perfection. I never was very good at ironing; it’s the bane of my existence as a flight attendant. The slate grey tie matches his eyes. Eyes that are just like mine. I’d forgotten how alike we are in the nearly sixteen years it’s been since I last saw him.
His hair that became so disheveled yesterday as he ran his hands through it is styled neatly today. The same brown as mine but with grey streaked throughout, yet it only seems to make him look more distinguished. I can see a few women around the restaurant sending him appraising looks. He looks younger than he is. He has a wary smile on his face, like he’s nervous about this dinner too. It’s enough to make me drop my shoulders from my ears.
“Can I give you a hug?” he asks with tentative softness.
My throat closes up for a second, and I can see the same uncertainty mirrored on his face.
“Yes, I’d like that,” I say, realizing the words are true.
Since he left the apartment yesterday, I’ve had more than enough time to think about everything that unfolded. There are questions I need answers to, and he’s the only person who can give them to me .
He opens his arms, hope sparkling in his eyes. I walk into them, allowing his scent to surround me. It’s the same as it was when I was a kid, and it’s like a hit to my senses. I haven’t been in these arms in sixteen years. I haven’t smelled his woodsy smell in sixteen years .
My eyes fill with tears, and I have to pull away to keep a sob from ripping through me. It’s getting harder and harder to keep my walls up. Like they’re more permeable, breakable, now that I know what I need. They used to be fortress-like. Nothing and no one could get past them. But I’m determined to start fresh, and what better place to give it some practice than here and now. I step back and swipe under my eyes, careful not to disturb the makeup I spent twenty painstaking minutes on earlier.
We slide into the booth across from each other, and I inhale a few times to calm my system, grabbing the water in front of me and drinking half of it down. He looks just as out of sorts as I do.
“I’m really glad you called. Yesterday didn’t go quite like I planned. Seeing you grown…” He swallows hard, the words catching in his throat. “Well, I wasn’t prepared for how hard that would hit me. I don’t think I adequately expressed just how sorry I am about everything that’s happened.”
“Well, if I’m being honest…” I sigh and look him in the eye. “You showing up on my doorstep was not something I was prepared for either.”
“I am sorry for that too. Your mom was so sure you’d be okay with us showing up early. I should have made her call.”
“No.” I shake my head, knowing he’s misunderstood my meaning. “I mean, yes, that was unexpected, but I’m talking about you being there. ”
He looks confused, his eyebrows pulling together.
“What do you mean? Your mother didn’t tell you I was coming?”
A weak laugh escapes me as I shake my head.
“She told me she was coming and that she had someone with her. I assumed it would be yet another one of her horrible boyfriends. Seeing you in the hallway…” I have to stop, blowing out the breath that feels caught in my lungs. “It was like seeing a ghost.”
His eyes go wide with horror. “God, Joss, I’m so sorry. I had no idea. No wonder you reacted the way you did.” He scrubs at his face, looking genuinely distraught. “Why would she do that?”
“I stopped trying to figure out why she does the things she does a long time ago. There’s a reason I asked you to meet me here without her. I needed to get a feeling for this situation without her attempting to pull the strings.”
“You said you haven’t seen or talked to her in seven years. She stole from you?” The question in his voice is almost pleading, like he’s hoping that was a joke and I’ll have a new story this time around.
“She did. I don’t know what to make of her story about Bill, whether any of that’s true. My only interaction with him was during that visit.” I didn’t plan to go into all the details, but he’s here, and I don’t know if I’ll ever get another chance to explain it to him. So I do, and he listens patiently while I tell him about that horrible time, never once interrupting.
“Jesus, Joss. I’m so sorry. I-I never would have brought her to your door if I’d known.” He shakes his head and looks indignant, frustrated. “I was struggling to find you on my own, and she was easier to track down. She seemed so excited to come visit you. She never once mentioned that it had been years since you spoke.”
“You’re not responsible for her actions.”
“Aren’t I, though?” I feel the anger, even though I know it’s all directed at himself. “I left, and it drove her to become whatever she’s become.”
“I think she thought if she could just find a new husband, we would be okay. But she was a mess, and she’s never been a good judge of character. The men we ended up living with…” I shudder as I think about how terrible some of them were—Tom in particular. I catch the look of concern on Dad’s face, but I continue. “I left the day I graduated high school and never looked back. But we kept in touch, at least somewhat. Until Bill.”
“I want you to understand something, Joss. Although I know it can’t change the past, I need you to know that I never wanted to leave you.”
I stiffen at his words. How can he say that to me? If he hadn’t wanted to leave, he wouldn’t have.
He must see my apprehension because he holds a hand up. “Wait, please, let me finish. Your mom—she was so angry at me, rightfully so, for cheating and wanting to be with someone else. But I never wanted to leave you .” He emphasizes the word, and my body locks up at the implication.
“I wanted to figure out a way to share custody of you. I even offered to take you full time. She told me she’d ruin me, my reputation, and destroy me in court if I even tried.” He hangs his head, bringing a hand up to the back of his neck. “I was too much of a coward to fight for you then, so I left. And as the years went by, my cowardice only got worse. I was too afraid to see you and be met with the hate in your eyes—as would be your right. It was easier to stay away.”
“You wanted to take me with you? You wanted me?” I barely whisper the words as I stare at the table in front of me. This changes everything, and also nothing. I feel his warm hand over mine and lift my gaze to see his face.
“I always wanted you. I’m sorry I was too spineless to fight for you.”
That sob from earlier comes back, and I don’t bother holding it in this time. I have to pull my hand from his so I can cover my face. I could have had a relationship with him all these years…
“How could Mom do this?”
“I won’t make excuses for her, but I know she was angry with me, and she probably figured you’d be better off without me as well. She wouldn’t even cash the checks I sent for you, not wanting a single thing that would tie us together. I eventually stopped sending them and put it all in your trust instead.” He looks heartbroken.
“But she listened to me cry myself to sleep for weeks and weeks after you left. She saw the way your leaving affected me. She let us live in those terrible places. God…” I look around the room, glad that it’s not crowded. Less people to witness my breakdown. The server’s eyes glance toward our table and quickly away—clearly having no desire to get in the middle of it either. “I’ve been afraid to trust anyone not to abandon me for sixteen years, all because she was a spiteful bitch.”
“Joss. I-I’m sorry. ”
I shake my head, trying to make sense of all this new information, to make it fit together with the life I lived, with all the things I believed to be true all these years.
“Joss,” he starts, the word filled with such sadness but also something that sounds like love. “If you believe nothing else I tell you today, believe this. I have always loved you and wanted you. My leaving never had anything to do with you. You deserved better than what your mom and I ever gave you.”
I take a minute to absorb his words. He loves me . He always did.
“Why wasn’t I enough for you to stay?” I can’t make myself look at him, but I hear his broken sob and know that he’s just as much of a mess as I am over this.
“Oh, sweet girl. It was never that you weren’t enough to keep me, it was that I wasn’t strong enough to stay. I’m sorry I made you doubt that. Joss, please…”
I look up, knowing my makeup is surely wrecked now, and wish that I could hide away from him, from the world, for a while.
“ You are why I’m here. Not your mother, not even because of the trust. Just you. I couldn’t go another day of my life without seeing you, without trying, without at least telling you how much I love you and want you in my life.”
The click of my heels on the sidewalk is the only sound penetrating my mind as I walk back to my building. I feel emotionally drained. Physically drained too after my five a.m. wake-up to surf. The conversation with my dad left me with so many things to think about. How could Mom cut me off from him without giving me a chance to be a part of that decision? She let me hate him when we could have had a relationship this whole time.
Before I know it, I’m exiting the elevator and approaching Wes’s door. I want to walk straight inside, into his arms, but I need a few more minutes to process everything on my own. I let myself into my apartment and slump against the door. Taking a deep breath, I let the smell of home calm me.
My apartment feels strange with so many of my things over at Wes’s place. My room feels different too, cold and quiet. We fell so easily into sharing his space, like it was meant to be ours. The way our two homes melded into one was nice, and now I find myself craving the comfort and rightness of that space more than this one.
I slip out of my dress and shoes, groaning in pleasure as I stretch my feet. Those heels were not my best idea in conjunction with my choice to walk to and from dinner. Wes’s hoodie is on my bed, where I left it earlier. I’ve worn it almost nonstop since I walked out of his apartment yesterday, needing some semblance of connection to him even as I was pushing him away.
And I was pushing him away. I realize that now. I’ve known from the very beginning that his being here was temporary, that he would go home eventually. I created special boundaries just for him, yet over these last few months, he’s done a good job of dismantling them piece by piece. I never stood a chance, and then this whole fake relationship thing obliterated all that was left.
It opened us up to think of each other differently—at least for me—and now where are we? Attracted to each other, closer than ever, and still with a looming end date. But now I know how he tastes, how his body moves over mine, how it would feel to be his. Really his. It was simple to pretend with each kiss that he wanted what I wanted, with each touch that we could be more to each other. But all I’ve really done is leave myself vulnerable to have my heart broken. It’s become more complicated than I could have possibly imagined.
The words he exchanged with my dad float to the surface of my mind.
I’m glad she has someone like you in her corner. She deserves someone who loves her like you do.
Yes, she does.
Wes was never interested in a relationship. Love has always been out of the question for him, and yet his words contradict that at every turn. The things he says, the way he is with me, I’d love to believe that they mean more than they do. But if I do and he still leaves, then I’m just the stupid girl who fell for the guy who as good as said he’d never love her.
Jaz’s words are what I hear now.
I think Wes might be worth the risk.
I know he is, but I’m struggling to rewire over a decade of protective tendencies. The idea of putting myself out there completely, telling Wes how I really feel, terrifies me.
I’ve been standing in the middle of my room unmoving for at least five minutes now, his hoodie still in my hands. I finally pull it over my head, letting the comfort of his scent engulf me. I lift my phone off the bed and pull up our text thread. There have been two messages since I walked away yesterday—the first came through shortly after I left and the second came through a couple hours ago.
Wes
Take all the time you need. I’ll be here if you need me.
Grey, I’m really trying here, but I’m worried about you. Please don’t shut me out. I miss you. My apartment doesn’t feel right without you in it.
My heart seized when those words came through on my walk to dinner. I’ve repeated them an unhinged number of times in my head. So, when I hear a sound through the wall of his apartment, I can’t stop my feet.
He says he misses me, that his apartment doesn’t feel right without me. Well, same here.
I’m out my door and standing on the other side of his in the next breath.
Can I just walk in? Do I deserve that privilege after ignoring his attempts to help? I don’t know, but I slip my hand around the handle anyway. I just have to hope he’ll forgive me for running scared.
I know he’s here, but when I get through the door, I don’t see him. Everything is exactly as I left it yesterday. It makes me smile to see one of my blankets haphazardly strewn on the couch next to his Kindle, like he was snuggled under it just a minute ago .
His voice draws me toward his bedroom. “Yeah, I was already thinking I’d apply for the airlines. That’s the easiest possible transition.”
The airlines? Transition to what? Oh my god, is he—is he leaving?
“I didn’t want to leave you high and dry, but it sounds like the timing might actually work out well for both of us.” His words freeze me in place. Who is he leaving high and dry? “That’s an amazing offer you got. I’ll really miss working for you though.”
No. I let out a shaky breath. I’m only a few steps from him, but it feels like an insurmountable distance. I’m frozen. Unable to move, unable to speak, as my heart cracks in my chest.
“Yeah. Yeah, I’ll call you tomorrow and—”
Wes swings the door open only to find me on the other side, eavesdropping. I can’t even pretend that I wasn’t. Shock flits across his face, but it’s instantly replaced with relief.
His thumb hits the end button, effectively hanging up on Breck, before he slips his phone into his pocket. His hands reach for me, but I flinch away, pain searing through me as his words echo through my head. But he doesn’t stop, not until his thumbs coast down my cheeks and I realize they’re wiping away tears.
“Joss? Sweetheart, what happened?”
I yank out of his grip. How can he ask me that? How can he call me sweetheart when he was just talking about leaving like it was a foregone conclusion?
I do what I do best. Run.