25. Chapter 25
Willow
My alarm goes off, and I’ve never dreaded the sound more in my entire life. I tossed and turned so many times last night that the blankets are a knotted mess. A reflection of my mental state right now.
Weston’s words replayed in my mind all night.
Part of me is relieved, and part of me is utterly gutted.
How could he do that? I know he was young and dumb, but when he realized it was a mistake, he never came for me.
I spent half the night wrestling demons inside my head, telling me to go and knock on his door.
I don’t know what I’m expecting him to tell me or what that’s even going to do, but I want to talk to him because no matter what he says, I still can’t make sense of it.
There were a million options out there, and he thought leaving me was the best one, even if it was for my sake, which I’m not entirely sure I believe he didn’t even care enough to loop me into the conversation.
Being mad at him when I thought he completely deserted me for no real reason was easier.
Now, I have to deal with the fact that he left me because he thought it was the best thing for me.
But it wasn’t. I almost failed out of school because of how heartbroken I was.
The amount of shitty dating decisions I made after him is insane.
I tried so hard to love every single person I came into contact with, thinking that if I loved them, I wouldn’t love him anymore, and if I didn’t love him anymore, I wouldn’t hurt.
And maybe I’d find someone who’d want to stay.
The only thing that taught me was to depend only on myself, because people are characteristically unreliable. So I learned to rely on myself.
I sit on the edge of my bed, swinging my legs over the side while rubbing my eyes. I thought seeing West on all the other days was hard. I don’t even want to think about what today’s going to be like.
Begrudgingly, I get ready, and I put on my favorite clothes.
Because if I feel good on the outside, it may help with the inner turmoil.
When you look good, you feel good, and when you feel good, it’s easier to handle the chaotic disaster that is my life.
At least that’s what I’m going to tell myself.
I crack my door open and peek around like I’m some sort of teenager trying to sneak out. This is ridiculous. I am a grown ass woman. I live here, and just because things are about as clear as mud between us right now, doesn’t mean that I cannot walk down the hall normally.
Wanting to get it over with, I walk down the hall and down the stairs. The smell of bacon hangs in the air. Weston is nowhere in sight, but my coffee sits on the corner of the counter like always. I walk to it and see the note.
Breakfast is ready in the oven, should still be warm for you -West
Walking over to the oven, I pop it open and see all the fixings for breakfast in there: bacon, scrambled eggs, and some toast. Closing it, I look around. Maybe he’s left already. I’ll have to see if his truck is in the garage.
Walking over, I swing open the door and peek my head inside. What I find are years’ worth of memories that I thought were gone forever, sitting on the shelves inside his garage. The old truck he had in high school still sits there.
I hear rolling, and Weston pops up from under the truck. He has a shop towel he uses to wipe his hands, and grease stains on his shirt and jeans. “Good morning, did you find the breakfast?”
“Yeah, but what’s this?” I look to the truck; every single memory we’ve had in that truck plays through my mind.
“You said you missed it. I tracked down the guy I sold it to and got it back.” He shrugs like it’s no big deal.
He looks back to me, where I stand speechless, he takes a deep breath and seems to debate his next words.
“I got rid of it because it reminded me of you. I couldn’t look at it, but now that you’re here, it felt… wrong not having it. So I got it back.”
This truck was his baby in high school; it never had less than half a tank of gas, it was always clean.
I was shocked to hear he had gotten rid of it.
Now that I know why, my heart breaks for him.
It breaks for us. We are in such a fickle spot, I don’t know how to move forward, or what forward would even look like.
He continuously shows me that I can trust him and pushes me to the edge of falling for him. There’s only so much digging my heels in I can do before I’m thrown from the ledge. Last time, it hurt, but what would this time look like? I’m too scared to think about it.
All the anger I had felt is gone, a bit of melancholy and forgiveness linger instead. I’m not over it, I’m not even sure I've fully processed it all, but today, I think I need to try something new. Try to do what I would have done years ago: lead with kindness.
“Are you at a stopping point? I was just going to eat breakfast,” I offer. It’s the world's shortest olive branch, but it’s all I have right now.
“Yeah, I can be. Are you sure you want me to eat with you? I get it if you need space.”
He’s so God damn respectful of me, it’s equally annoying and sweet. “I’m okay. Let’s eat.”
He smiles, tender and soft, and inside, I feel the ice fall from my heart.
My armor is gone; what comes next will be up to him.
“Okay, Sunshine.” He finishes wiping his hand clean and throws the rag in the garbage.
He nods to the door, to start heading that way, and places his hand on my lower back, guiding me inside.
Trying to ignore how utterly aware of him I am, I ask, “What do you guys have going on at the ranch today?”
“Well, we have to separate the calves from their moms, so most likely I’m gonna get my ass kicked. That’ll be fun.“ The mental image that flashes through my brain, and I feel guilty for the bit of joy it brings.
“Funny enough, my schedule just opened up. It looks like I’m free for the show.” I laugh as I say it.
He steps in front of me, leveling me with a look as he sweeps past me to open the oven. “Ha, ha, very funny. You know you’re always welcome to tag along with me whenever you want. If the office and cabins start to make you crazy, some fresh air and cows might help.”
Those things are all lovely, but the thing that grounds me the most is him, but I get the feeling he knows that already. “Actually, I love the work I’ve been doing; my boss is a bit annoying, but it’s my first project, so micromanaging is to be expected.”
He brings the tray of food to the table, laying it down on the center. The cloth and runner are still on it, a harsh reminder of last night. “Do you need me to talk to him?”
I groan, “Did we not learn our lesson with the contractor?”
He holds his hands up. “You’re right, you can handle your business.”
He gets my plate and serves me a plate while I watch him. Weston doesn’t do anything half assed. If he’s going to care for you, you’re going to feel pampered. Which is exactly how I feel when he sets my food and coffee down in front of me.
“Please accept my ‘I’m sorry I was an idiot breakfast peace offering’,” he says as he sits across from me.
“I’ll accept it only because I know being an idiot comes so naturally to you,” I say with a wink. Weston is far from an idiot; he’s kindhearted and selfless. He was just a kid who made a dumb decision that blew our love into smithereens.
He feigns being hurt by my words and places a hand over his injured heart. “Did anyone tell you you’re kind of mean in the morning?”
“That’s because I haven’t had my coffee yet,” I say, blowing into the hot mug.
“You mean your creamer with a splash of coffee,” he challenges with a raised brow.
“Yes, I do,” I sass back with a smirk.
He shakes his head, laughs, and brings a bite of food to his mouth. This is nice. Starting my day with him. Teasing, laughing. My eyes linger on him, thinking about whether this is what I want.
“So, what have you got going on today?” he asks as he takes a sip of his own coffee.
“Well, I need to take pictures of progress to email to my boss because apparently my word is no longer good enough. Then I’m going to continue to work on the bookkeeping. And then I need to call your sister and see what she wants to do for interior decorating.”
“Why do you need to call Aspen? I can help you with that. “You’re good at man caves, but I think you might want to go for a little bit more of a homey feeling, and I think Aspen has the perfect eye for cozy rustic that will make this a success.” In reality, this is a really nice cabin, and it’s not as bachelor pad as I was expecting.
The flowers up front are already sprucing it up.
If I could talk him into matching furniture, we’d really be on a roll.
“Yeah, I’m gonna need you to drink that coffee faster before I need an ice pack for the burns that you are delivering to me.” His smile is devilish.
I chuckle and I hate myself for it. I love giving him a hard time. It used to be our favorite pastime. But mostly, I teased him. He never really gave it back to me; in fact, if you dare to ever insult me, even to this day, he comes running to my rescue, apparently.
“I’m sorry that was kind of mean. Your cabin is really, really nice, but I think your sister will be the perfect person to help make each cabin special for your future guests.”
“That she does. I guess I can hand the reins over to her when it comes to interior decorating. Will you show me what you come up with?” he asks, hope in his eyes.
“Sure, I can CC you on the email proposal I sent to my boss.” I angrily stab my pancake with my fork as I think about that.
“Yeah, or you can just show me when you get home?”
I take a moment to look at him, really look, and I can see he’s trying. He’s giving me full reign of the project, and I see the remorse that’s still in his eyes, and I decide to give him this win. “Okay,” I agree as I finish up with what’s left on my plate and go to take it to the sink.
“I can get that for you, don’t worry about it.” Weston stands, grabbing my plate and empty mug.
I sigh, “West, I know you’re sorry, but I promise I can clean up after myself.”
“Yeah, and I promise I don’t mind helping you out. I’m going to take my plate in a second anyway.”
“Okay, that’s sweet of you. Thanks.”
“Willow, are you going to be able to forgive me?” Weston asks, his voice low and his back turned to me.
The sudden shift in conversation throws me off.
“I do forgive you, but what does that mean for us? I don’t know yet.” The roaring voice inside my head wants me to run into his arms right now, but the smarter part of me wants to take a breath and think it through. I don’t want to hurt him, so I tack on, “You’re still the best guy I know, West.”
My feet carry me up the stairs, and my thoughts are going in circles, practically making me dizzy. What do I do when the only person I want is him?