35. Wes

THIRTY-FIVE

I had always thoughtI was smart enough not to go to jail. I've made a million bad decisions and done enough stupid things to land me in hospital a few times, but this one takes first place.

I've never been a violent person. Even when I played football, any of the fights I got in were to back up one of my teammates, and even then, I was still pretty tame. But when it comes to Ryan Valla, that tame side of me does not exist. He makes me see red. Just from how he looked at Nora, my blood ran cold. I should have thrown those punches a long time ago, and it felt good to release some steam. If those strangers hadn't called the police, who just so happened to be around the corner, I don't think I would have gotten off him.

Ryan, being the rich asshole he is, managed to get out of holding within ten minutes of glaring at me from the other end. He's as stupid as he looks. He thought running would mean he wouldn't get caught, but he severely underestimated how far he could run whilst being out of his mind drunk. I, however, have to spend four hours next to three guys who smell like they've wet themselves.

It already feels like I've lived a million lives today, so the last thing I want to do is see seven people all standing outside the station when I get let out. They're all shouting and screaming, running toward me like I was placed in an actual jail cell for years, not a couple of hours. I'm too exhausted to even say anything when they're all fawning over me.

"He got a real hit on you, huh?" Connor says, clasping my shoulder as we stand in the parking lot. I haven't seen a mirror since it happened, and I'm honestly not sure how bad my face looks. All I know is that my ribs hurt, my knuckles are red, and my thighs are aching. What kind of dude aims for your thighs when fighting?

"Apparently," I grumble. Archer comes into my view now, and when I can't see much out of my peripheral, I take it upon myself to realize that my eye must be swollen. For one of the first times in my life, Archer's got a smug smirk on his face as he watches me. "Take a picture. It'll last longer."

He scoffs. "Damn, prison changed you."

"It gets to you in there," I say hauntingly, tapping my skull.

He lets out a low chuckle. "Glad to know you're okay, man."

"Thanks," I reply. Then Elle and Cat come into my view, again staring at me with a pained grimace like I look like I have no eyeballs. The medic said I'd be fine, but they're looking at me like I've been run over or something. "Thanks, girls. I really appreciate the concern."

Elle lets out a choked laugh. "We're sorry, Wessy. You just… You look horrible." Cat elbows Elle in the rib. "What? It's true." I just shake my head at them, no matter how bad it hurts, as they end up arguing about what not to say to a person who had just been in a fight and spent the last three hours in a prison cell.

My vision finally clears when I spot Nora sitting on the hood of Connor's truck. It's like she's stuck in her own world, biting her nails. I've never seen her do that before, and it worries the fuck out of me. I make my way over to her. "You okay, Sunshine?"

Her head snaps up, and she slides off the car, running towards me. I don't get a second to breathe before she jumps at me and wraps her arms around my neck, squeezing me tight. "Oh my god, I'm so sorry. I should have gotten involved or done something or told him to fuck off, and I didn't. And now this is going to be on your record, and it's all my fault, and I feel selfish for getting worked up over it, but you scared the shit out of me, Wes."

"Hey, it's okay. I'm okay, you know?" She just nods against my neck. I hold her closer to me, thankful to have her in my arms again. I try to pry her off me when my ribs start to ache, but she doesn't budge. "Hey, Nora?"

"Hey, Wes," she sniffles.

"I don't know if you saw what happened, you know, back when I was in a fight with your ex-boyfriend and everything, but my ribs are kind of sore, and you're hurting me," I grumble.

"Fuck. I'm so sorry," she says. She jumps apart from me. "What do you want me to do? How can I help?"

"How about you kiss my bruises better?" I murmur, leaning down to her. She presses her lips together. "Come on, Nor. You're not going to make a wounded man beg, are you?"

"Trust me, I'd love to see you beg, but your parents are right over there."

I turn to follow her line of vision, and she's right. How weird is today going to get? Both of my parents are standing next to each other beside my dad's car like they've been waiting for me.

"I'll wait in the car," she says to me as I'm still staring at them like they might disappear. "Go talk to them."

I walk over to them, and my palms instantly grow sweaty. Maybe it's just the last of my energy wearing off and I'm now put on high alert again. I haven't seen them in the same place for almost a year, and now they're both casually standing there as if this is completely normal. I lift my head up when I get to them. I was expecting a lecture. Or at least one of them to tell me that what I did was stupid. But I get a hug instead.

I melt into both of their embrace, and I can feel the tears prickling the back of my eyelids. You never know how much you need something until you don't have it. If I knew how good it would feel to have both of my parent's arms wrapped around me, I would have fought harder for this months ago. I don't know how long we all stay like this, just holding each other, but I'm almost too afraid to let go. I feel like a kid again, needing to hug both of my parents twice before going to school.

My mom pulls away first, and I see that she's crying. "Are you okay, darling? You're not hurt, are you? Well, of course, you're hurt. I mean?—"

"I'm okay, Mom," I say, and she just breaks down into another fit of tears. "Hey, weine nicht. Mir geht es gut, versprochen." She sniffles. "I might have got it bad, but the good part of my brain is still working."

"Are you sure you're okay?" my dad asks. He's got tears in his eyes too. God. What is with the emotion today? I don't think I can handle this right now.

I shrug. "Yes, I'm good."

"Right, I'm not happy about what happened, but when Nora told me why, I understood. Doesn't mean I'm not a little disappointed in you, Wes," he says. I just nod. "I know communication between us has been strained, but waiting for you to come out of here has made us realize that we need to try to be better for you."

"I know, Dad, and I'm sorry. If you had heard what he said about my Nora then–" The rest of his words hit me, and my sentence came to a screeching halt. "Wait. What?"

"We're still separating, but we're going to work on being friends at least, so holidays and birthdays aren't hard. The way things happened wasn't fair to anyone. Everything was up in the air and we all had a million things going on, but we want to try to make this work," my dad explains. The balloon that was lodged in my throat starts to deflate. "I know it might not be what you want, but?—"

"No, it is what I want," I admit, swallowing. I look between the two of them, seeing them differently already. "As long as it's what you both want, too."

"It is, my love," my mom says, smiling softly.

When they update me about how they've started seeing a therapist and clearing the air between them, the future doesn't look too bad. It doesn't look filled with strained relationships and awkward family dinners. My path might still be a little unclear, but I've got more than enough people in my corner to help me through the fog.

"Should I get a new cloth?"

If Nora could dress up in a nurse costume instead of this annoyingly cute outfit she's had on all day, I'd be enjoying this a lot more. Surprisingly, I haven't sustained a lot of injuries in my life. Nothing that a damp paper towel couldn't fix. So, having Nora in my lap, tending to my bruises, is out of the ordinary for so many reasons.

"I think I'm okay now, Stargirl," I laugh, watching the look of concentration on her face, her tongue poking out between her lips.

"Are you sure?"

"Yes, I'm sure. Now can you get the hell out of this outfit so you can stop torturing me with that fucking skirt," I say, giving her ass a firm smack. She laughs as she slips out of my lap, and I lean back against the headboard, watching her.

I could get used to Nora walking around my room like this. I could get used to her wearing my clothes and using my shampoo whenever she wants to. I could also get used to her walking out of my bathroom in my shorts and one of my jerseys, giving Adam Sandler a run for his money. I don't care how baggy my clothes look on her; she still looks gorgeous, and she looks like she's all mine.

When she gets back in bed, she just pulls out a paperback that she was reading earlier, and I watch her get lost in her own world. My TV is playing quietly in the background, but there's no use in it being on when she's all I can focus on.

I feel like one lucky motherfucker to have her in my life. Everything that has happened to us was meant to happen so we could get here. I think she knows what I'm thinking when we both settle to go to sleep. It's fucking uncomfortable with the way my ribs are aching, but she's lying on her side, looking at me, and I have to look back.

"Can you do me a favor?" I ask into the silence.

"Anything," she murmurs.

"Don't break my heart, Nora," I say shakily, running my fingers through her hair.

She frowns. "What? Why would I do that?"

I sigh. "You know that what I feel for you goes deeper than we'd both like to admit. I just don't want you to wake up one day and realize that you need more… or less. I don't know. I just don't want you to miss out on something that could be better than me, more talented than me, or someone that fits your lifestyle better. I don't want to be a mistake that you've made." I swallow. "One that you'll regret."

Her eyes dim, and she shakes her head softly. "You know, you're the only thing that I feel like I've done right. Every decision I've made regarding you has just been right. I don't need anything more from you or anything better. You try harder than anyone to make me smile, to make me laugh and you're there for me in the moments where I don't feel like I want to do any of that for myself."

I take a deep breath, letting her words wash over me. She guides my hand from in her hair and presses our hands right against my heart, where it feels like it's going to fall out of my chest. "You're the thing I've been missing, Wes, and there's nothing in this world that is better than having you. I would never do anything to break your heart. Ever."

I nod, swallowing so I don't bawl like a fucking baby. "Good, because I don't think I even know what to do with myself sometimes when I think about you. It's like I've been spun around on a rollercoaster, and I'm in a constant state of dizziness. Just pure disbelief that you're real."

She lets out a soft laugh. "You sure that's not the pain meds talking?"

I shake my head firmly. "Do you ever think about how we were just destined to meet each other? Like, how life worked out so well in our favor."

"Like the invisible string theory?"

"Yeah, but think about it," I start and she shuffles closer to me, caging us in our own bubble. "Out of every place in the universe, it was the house across mine that your parents moved into. Sometimes, I think that you were always destined to be this for me. Like it was written in the stars or on the back of a rock at the bottom of the ocean. Or someone a thousand years ago predicted this would happen."

She lets out a chuckle. She probably thinks I'm crazy. It might just be the medication that's making me more sentimental than usual. But after standing up for her and fighting Ryan back about what he said about her, I'd do anything for her, and I want her to know that. "I'll never be able to understand your mind, Wes. Like ever."

"I'm being serious," I whisper. She shivers, her eyes softening. "You might be my best friend, but you're also everything else for me. You're my favorite person, Nora. Sometimes, I think you're the only person in my universe. You're the only person I see. Some people might close their eyes and see a galaxy or a whole load of nothingness, but I don't see that."

She swallows. "What do you see?"

"You," I say shakily.

"Me?"

"Just you," I confirm. "It's always been you."