Page 100 of From West, With Regret

I sift through the memories that have come back to me of that night.

West had told me I was safe, then when he made sure, he slowly walked over to Ryan, the older foster kid who’d bullied me for three years since the day I moved in. West lightly kicked hisshoulder. Ryan moaned but wouldn’t wake. He was still alive, and I couldn’t look at him for long or else I was certain I was going to vomit. I covered my exposed chest with my arms, and West walked back over to me, kneeling in front of me. He asked me what I wanted to do, and I felt like my world was crashing down around me. I was attacked on my last day there. Nearly raped. But West saved me, and then I was losing him, too. My eyes fell to West’s hands covered in blood.

I told him I didn’t want him to jeopardize his chances of being adopted, because there was a possibility West could be charged with assault. Knowing Ryan, he would twist the story to turn himself into the victim. He’d claim West attacked him. Then I told him not to tell anyone about what Ryan tried to do to me. I knew I needed to leave the past behind me the second the Walkers signed on the dotted line that I was theirs. I needed to live my new, beautiful life, trusting West would follow through on his promise to find me.

I made West not only promise to find me, but that he wouldn’t tell anyone what happened that night.

“I remember,” I tell West as I spin around and slip both of my legs on either side of him.

He pulls me close, wrapping his arms around me.

I press my hands to his bare chest, then remove his necklace from around my neck, returning it to its rightful home. “We promised to never speak of it again.”

“I did as you asked,” he chokes out. “But only until after you left.”

“What?” I ask, looking up from the Big Ben charm below his neck.

“I waited until I was certain you were far away from the foster home when I made the anonymous call to the police. I couldn’t let him get away with it, London. I just couldn’t. They showed up the next day, arrested Ryan on all sorts of charges,including drug possession. They never investigated your attempted rape because I never gave them your name, only that I’d witnessed him attacking someone in the home. Apparently, there were a whole litany of charges that were more solid than my anonymous tip, but after Ryan was arrested, the foster home lost their credibility and reputation. All the children still there were either placed into another foster home, an orphanage, or adopted out.”

“What happened to you?”

West’s neck bobs as he looks down, his gaze heavy, and I run my hand along his sharp jaw, forcing him to look up at me again.

“Glenna Hall showed up and saved me.”

I press my fingers to the side of West’s face, pulling him in for a kiss. We stay like that wrapped up in each other until the night sky starts to lighten.

Closing my eyes, I remember the day of the accident before it happened.

I pedaled down the street as fast as my legs could take me, soaking up the warm autumn air. Leaves were falling all around me, and I’d spread my arms wide. I felt like I was flying. Then I smiled, finally feeling free for the first time.

I’m filled with immense sadness for that hopeful fourteen-year-old girl I left behind.

I crack my eyes open, looking at the man I love. I study his face, taking note of every lash and every imperfection. His blue eyes brighten, like the sun glistening off the ocean.

“So, what do we do now?” I ask him, holding back my tears.

He pulls me closer, feathering his mouth over mine. “We breathe, Dimples,” he whispers. “We breathe, and we start living.”

TWENTY-EIGHT

WEST

Besides grief, regret is the only emotion to stretch on forever.

London regaining her memory has turned my world upside down. We’ve spent the past several weeks exploring, relearning, and wrapped up in each other. Not as who we were since Heath’s death, but as who we would have been had we never separated the day she was adopted by the Walkers.

I’ve told London about my time in high school, the vacations the Halls took across the world, and how that sparked my passion to start my own business. I’d experienced more cultures in a few short years than I had my entire life before them.

London shared her love for the family that adopted her, and how they were what she clung to during the darkest of times. Then how she met my brother, fell for him, and married him.

It hurt to hear her tell that story, but I knew her love for him wasn’t true love. Not like the love we have. Heath lied, offered her a false sense of security, then took her for granted. He used her.

She felt she had no way out. His death opened the door to freedom, and she stepped through it.

There are no more secrets between us. No more gaps of losttime. We can’t change the past, and I can’t take back the regret I feel for letting London slip through my fingers time and time again, but we have forever to try.

Now, she’s here where she belongs, and I’m coming home to her.

---