Chapter Twenty-Four

West

The next time I woke up it was late evening.

My parents were in the room, their silhouettes wrapped together, engulfed by the darkness. They stood by the window, embracing each other, exactly as I saw them on the snow the morning Aubrey had died.

The familiar lump in my throat thickened. For a moment, I was tempted to pretend I was still asleep. But if Grace Shaw taught me one thing about this world, it was that running away from your issues was a bad idea, and it always came back, biting you in the ass.

I righted myself on the hospital bed, making a show of clearing my throat.

They turned around simultaneously. Mom didn’t gasp or cry. Her eyes traced my face like fingers, touching me softly. Dad—who looked a decade older than he had the last time I saw him almost five years ago—flinched, like he was the one who’d taken Appleton’s blows.

“Son.”

One word, and it sounded like it came from the bottom of the ocean, echoing everywhere in my body.

My parents looked worn-out—and had lost about twenty pounds between them. I barely recognized them, and yet I recognized that I was a huge part of why they were the way they were.

Dad was the first to rush toward me. He leaned over the hospital bed, his whole body brushing mine, giving me the gentlest, least touchy hug I’d ever received. We hadn’t hugged in half a decade.

“You can go ham, Pops. It’s your one and only chance at a hug I can’t escape,” I muttered. I felt his warm body quaking against mine as he tightened his grip. He was laughing and crying at the same time. When he stood up and stepped away, it was Mom’s turn.

I ran my eyes over both of them, flashing them a crooked grin.

“Got all worried when I didn’t send money this week, huh?”

It was so shitty and yet so classic me to say something like that. Neither of them winced or apologized. Mom’s eyes were hard on mine. Something had changed since the last time she saw me. I saw in her expression more of the mom she was before Aubrey died. Determination lit her eyes, coupled with a promise to give me hell if I misbehaved.

“We’re here to tell you we’re not going to let you kill yourself over what happened to Aubrey. We get that you are upset. We are upset, too. We’ll always be upset. We’ve lost our darling girl. But by God, West Camden St. Claire, we are not going to lose another child. Not to grief. Not to guilt. Not to anything. Ever again. You will outlive us, and you are going to goddamn enjoy it.”

Her spine straightened, and she looked me in the eye with a ferocity that gave me fucking chills.

“I hate myself.” The admission fell from my lips with a croak. “A whole fucking lot. And I don’t see how you don’t.”

“It is not your fault.” Dad took my hand. I looked away. The possibility of crying was getting too real to risk eye contact. “Even if it was—we’d still love you, still forgive you. Could you have done things differently? Yes. But you didn’t. You did not commit a crime, West. The consequences of your bad decisions just happened to be exceptionally tragic.”

“I broke my promise to Aub.”

“We all break our promises sometimes.” Mom took my other hand, and now I had nowhere to look, because my parents were everywhere. I could no longer avoid them. Ghost them. Dodge them. Pretend I could silence them with a check.

“It was never about the money.” A warm tear fell from Dad’s face onto my arm. “We never wanted you to pay our way out of this thing. At first, we thought maybe it was your own way to deal with the grief, to quiet the demons. By the time we knew better, it was too late. You were far away, and we didn’t know how to find our way back to you.”

“We were a mess,” Mom interjected. I turned to look at her. She was crying, too. “The period we went through right after Aubrey’s death—”

“You had every right,” I interrupted, my voice thick with emotion.

Don’t cry. Don’t you dare fucking cry.

It had been so long since I’d let myself feel, that I wasn’t sure I could even if I wanted to.

“No. We had no right, Westie. We still had you to think about, to take care of. Instead of considering the consequences, we let ourselves slip into depression.”

“You don’t slip into depression. It grabs you by the foot like Pennywise and drags you down a deep, dark sewer full of shit. Depression is never your fault. So don’t apologize for that.”

I couldn’t hold it any longer. My eyes and nose burned, and a hot tear slid down my cheek. I wiped it with my palm quickly.

“We love you, Westie.” Mom dropped her head, burying it in my shoulder. “We love you so, so much. We never wanted the money. We just wanted to talk to you. We want our son back, and we refuse to get a dime from you from this point forward. When Easton told us what you’ve been doing to help us pay our loans, you know what I did?” she asked.

Quickly disowned your son for being so goddamn stupid?

“I slapped Easton in the face for never telling us. For never warning us. You’ve been risking your life every Friday to help us. Please forgive me for not knowing what you went through in the last five years.” She grabbed my cheeks in her palms. It hurt like hell, but now wasn’t the time to point it out. “I know it’s a lot to ask, but I’m willing to work hard to show you what it means to me.”

Another traitorous tear rolled down my cheek.

I opened my mouth and said the two most liberating words in the English language.

“You’re forgiven.”

Grace

The sun had dipped below the tall trees by the time I parked my pickup at the hospital parking lot, and it was almost completely dark. The traffic was insane, there had been two car accidents on the way, and most of the roads were blocked due to festivals. Each moment away from West sent me into the arms of despair, and I was so sick with worry, all anxiety about Grandma Savvy’s first day at Heartland Gardens had magically disappeared.

West was awake when I got there.

Tess was the first to greet me, throwing her arms over my shoulders. “Grace! I’m so glad you’re here. He just woke up.” I patted her back awkwardly, shell-shocked. There was something weird about being on good terms with her again after everything that went down, but if I’d learned one thing from the moment I met West, it was that even though forgiveness is the underdog in the battle of feelings, it should always win.

Easton and Reign were plopped on a narrow seat outside West’s room, napping in positions that couldn’t be comfortable. Tess took a step back, scanning me. “Easton said he asked about you.”

Exhilaration bubbled in my gut, but I made myself swallow it down.

“Is he in a lot of pain?”

Tess nodded slowly. “I haven’t gone in yet. Didn’t think he’d appreciate seeing my face after everything that happened. But Reign and Easton say he’s looked better. Go. He’s waiting for you.”

I pushed the door open just as his parents were leaving. I recognized his mother immediately. A petite woman with striking, dark features. She wrapped her arms around me in a recharging hug.

“Grace. Thank you for coming to see Westie.”

“Of course.” I rubbed her arm, smiling nervously. “I came as soon as I could.”

“I prayed every night that you two would work things out. I’m glad you did,” Caroline said. I grimaced, because West and I were as far as geographically possible from being worked out.

West let a low groan from the depths of his room. His parents blocked his figure, so I couldn’t see him.

“That’s enough, Mom.”

Caroline did an exaggerated eye roll that made my heart surge, because if she could joke about it, maybe he didn’t look as bad as he sounded.

“Take care of my son.”

She kissed my cheek and left.

Closing the door behind me, I spun to face him. Heat crawled up my neck.

He looked horrible.

His nose was misplaced, his eyes swollen and purple, and it looked like he’d been stitched together five times over, bunched into a West I hardly recognized and was a far cry from the flawless Adonis I’d known.

An urgent need to look away took hold of every fiber in my body, but I soldiered through, training my eyes on him.

He loved you at your worst, knowing what you look like. Now it’s time to prove you love him as he is. Scars and all.

“How do I look?” He gestured toward himself with his casted hand, giving me a humorless wink.

“Alive,” my voice broke mid-word. “Which is more than I could ever wish for, everything considered. East told me on the phone you showed up trashed and didn’t even put up a fight. What the hell were you thinkin’?”

With every step I took into the room, my muscles had loosened. His friends had already brought him Coke, snacks, flowers, and an iPad. I hadn’t had time to buy anything to bring to him. I’d driven straight from the nursing home to the county hospital, which was even farther away from Austin than Sheridan. Heck, he didn’t even know Grandma Savvy was in Heartland Gardens. So much had happened in the short time we’d been apart.

“I was thinking I needed to protect you at any cost.” His jaw tightened. “Even if part of the price was getting my heart broken.”

I took a seat in front of his bed, my eyes never wavering from his face.

“I knew after Kade sent people to raid the food truck, that if word got out I had a girlfriend, you’d be a target,” West explained.

“Why didn’t you tell me?” I choked, careful not to touch him. If I started, I’d never stop. I’d hold and kiss and drown myself in him, never coming up for air.

“Bringing the authorities into it was out of the question. My illegal fight scene would have come up, and everyone would have gotten screwed. They wouldn’t have just thrown my ass in jail, but Max, East, and Reign, too.” His eyes searched my face, looking for clues as to what I was thinking. “I decided I’d do whatever it took to keep you safe. At first, I tried to cancel the fight, like you’d asked. Told Max I was out at Reign’s party. Max called Shaun, but he had none of it. See, for Kade, it was a pride thing. So I figured I’d throw the fight, let the asshole get his moment in the sun, and get this nightmare over with.

“But I underestimated just how crazy Kade Appleton is. He nearly killed me before the fight. Had me attacked at the food truck and thrown off my bike on my way home from yours. It wasn’t about money anymore. I wanted to lose so he wouldn’t hurt those around me. Still, I couldn’t dump all this bullshit on you. You had Grams to take care of, a caregiver to find, and Professor McGraw’s threat hanging over your head. I never planned not to tell you, Tex. I just wanted to do it on my own terms.”

He took my hand in his. His skin felt wrong. Cold and dry, clay-like. His mortality crashed into me like a wrecking ball.

He could have died.

He almost had died.

“Well, suffice it to say, things didn’t work out the way you wanted them to.” I sniffed, brushing my thumb over his knuckles. “You humiliated me beyond belief, West. You took the promise you made me and crushed it into dust in front of everyone we know.”

He screwed his eyes shut, drawing a breath. The scars from that day were rawer for me than anything I’d worn on my face and arm. Because the person I loved the most made them.

“You said you were my girlfriend, and you were. Fuck, part of me is pathetic enough to hope you still are, and all I could see was Kade Appleton’s little rats running back to him and telling him about the pretty blonde that had my balls in a grip. I knew you’d be a target. I needed to throw him off your scent. To make sure he stayed far away from you. And the only way I could have done that was to make you straight up hate me that week and ensure you stayed the hell away.”

“Mission accomplished. But you still visited my house. Spied on me.”

He shrugged, a sad ghost of a smile passing through his face.

“I never pretended to possess admirable self-control where you’re involved, Texas Shaw. Hence why we’re in this mess. If only I could stay away from you.”

“You’d still be in this position. He wanted to ruin you because you were better. And you let him.”

Silence blanketed the room. Eventually, he turned his face toward me. “Baby”—he smiled triumphantly—“You’re not wearing any makeup.”

My mouth dropped. I put a hand to my injured side, feeling my eyes narrowing. Christ. My face was completely bare. I’d spent the entire day at the nursing home without a drop of makeup and hadn’t even noticed people’s reactions. No funny looks. No disgusted frowns. No children pointing and laughing at me. No hushed whispers or judgmental sneers.

Huh.

“I’m proud of you, Texas.”

“You’ll be prouder when you hear this—know where I’ve been today?”

He closed his eyes, pretending to say a little prayer.

“Wherever it was, I hope there aren’t any attractive men in this story.”

I chuckled, rolling my eyes. “I helped Grams unpack her things. She moved to a nursing home just outside Austin. The one from the brochure you left me—Heartland Gardens. She’s adaptin’ well and has an equally eccentric roommate to keep her company.”

“Holy crap,” he boomed. His voice was so loud, Mrs. St. Claire rushed into the room to make sure everything was okay.

“Westie? You all right?”

“Yes, Mother. I’m injured, not six. Shut the door.”

She laughed when she saw the grin on his face, shaking her head and closing the door again, giving us privacy.

“I’m so fucking proud of you, it’s unreal. You taking part in the play. Doing the right thing by Grams. You’re like my hero, Tex. Can I get an autograph?”

“Sure can.” I laughed.

“Anywhere on my body?” He wiggled his brows. I took his casted palm in mine and kissed the tips of his fingers.

It was late evening, and I needed to go. Not because I wanted to, but because I had to. Staying with West was tempting, but facing the music was part of my healing process. I had to see tonight through. It was my first night alone in the house, without Grams. My first night alone, period. I had to get used to that.

“I’m glad you’re okay, West. I’m sure you need your rest, so I’ll be goin’ now.” I stood up, sliding my hand out of his. His grip tightened around mine. His throat worked around the word that slid out of his mouth.

“Don’t.”

I studied him silently.

“Don’t leave me. I’ve been getting real good at recognizing goodbyes, and once you go through that door, you are not going to come back.”

He wasn’t wrong. I couldn’t do this anymore. Put my heart on the line and hope he’d keep it safe. Not when he’d handled it so carelessly before.

“You’ll survive without me,” I whispered, a tear sliding down my cheek. It slipped into my mouth, its saltiness spreading over my tongue.

“Surviving is not gonna cut it anymore. I survived for five years before I met you. It wasn’t enough.”

He took a deep breath, groaning. Every breath put him in pain, and I was the reason he’d gotten beaten up so badly.

“I can’t unfeel, unlaugh, undo everything that went down between us.” He shook his head. “I can’t unlove you, Grace Shaw. You’re inked in my fucking DNA, to a point I’ve completely lost my ability to think straight. One second I mauled you like a bobcat, the other I pushed you away, not wanting you to get tangled up in my shit. I pushed you and pulled you and chased you and hurt you and worshipped you every which way, because I couldn’t say those fucking words the first time they sprang into my mind. I love you.”

I couldn’t breathe.

“You love me?”

“Shit, Tex. There’s no word for what I feel for you. That first night we hung out? When Grams went missing? It was the first time I felt like my old self again, before Aubrey died. Something about it was light and fun and just … real.” He let out a sigh. “You were stressed, and worried, and suddenly, I needed to step up. It was the first time I saw crumbs of my former self. I think it was because you gave me so much shit.” He laughed, covering his eyes with his forearm. “You just gave zero fucks about who I was. What my name meant in this town. I was drawn to that. And ever since that night, I couldn’t get enough of you. I consumed you in every form possible—friend, lover, roommate, colleague, peer. I just needed you around. Constantly. I tried to fight it. I tried telling myself it was nothing. But every time I took a step back, you, or Easton, or Reign—any-fucking-one in my life—put me back in my place and made me see I was all about this Grace Shaw life.”

I bowed my head, biting my lip to keep myself from bawling like a baby. I’d dreamed of this moment every night for weeks. Months, even. Yet now that he’d finally confessed his love to me, the words felt like beautiful, empty bullet cases.

He hurt me.

Not once.

Not twice.

I wasn’t stupid enough to put myself through it a fourth time without some sort of commitment. A sign that he would at least try to protect me from himself next time things didn’t work out.

“I love you, too, West. Which is why you have to let me go. What you are offerin’ me is not enough. I want everything. The fairy tale. The romance. I want a man who will parade me around like I’m the most beautiful girl in the world—precisely because, fixed or not, I will never be pretty in my own eyes. I need someone who is good for me.” I slipped my hand from his, watching him taking a ragged breath that nearly tore his chest apart. “And I’m dead scared that someone is not you.”

His eyelids fluttered shut. He was giving up. I could practically see the fight evaporating out of his body.

I wanted to drop to my knees and beg him not to.

Convince him to give me everything I needed so we could be together.

But it wasn’t on me.

It was West’s commitment to make.

His fight to win.

I turned around and walked away.

This time, I didn’t look back, as I left both the love of my life and my old, insecure Grace behind.

Slipping into bed that night was surreal.

The lack of sound Grams usually made around the house was jarring to me. Moving objects, snoring, talking, breathing—all those things were missing, and the loud quiet leaked into my bones like poison.

Karlie had texted me earlier, asking if I wanted her to drop in for a spontaneous slumber party. Nineties-themed movies, cheap wine, and this or that games. As tempting as it was, and as much as I wanted to get away from the chaos teeming in my own head, I knew my new self was better than running away like that.

I needed to see tonight through—and come out of it a better version of myself.

Still broken.

And wonky.

Asymmetrical.

But also whole.

And independent.

Stronger than I’d ever been.

As I tossed and turned in a bed that felt strange without West in it, after making sure the doors were locked, and the TV on, its static light dancing across my face so I wouldn’t feel quite so alone, I had a feeling I was on the right path.

It was going to be a bumpy one, for sure, but wherever this road was taking me—I was ready.