Page 11 of Entwined Hearts
I blinked quickly, forcing the remnants of the dream away until my bedroom took over. The walls were butter yellow fromthe morning light, illuminating all my scholastic awards from middle and high school.
Clearing my throat and ignoring the ache in my chest, I rolled over and checked my phone. There were at least ten notifications, most of them from Stewart.
Missedcall Stewart Kessler
Stewart Kessler: Call me please.
Tess Hayes: Taking Luke to get ice cream if you want to come
Claire Hayes: Staying at Beau’s tonight. Love you
Stewart Kessler: I just want to know you’re okay.
Missed call Stewart Kessler
Missed call Delilah Chase
Voicemail Stewart Kessler
Stewart Kessler: Seriously Savannah? You can’t keep ignoring me like this. It’s immature.
Inbox: Timothy Maddox ([email protected]) Re: Bereavement Leave
I staredat the notifications until my screen dimmed, unable to deal with any of it right now. I knew I needed to talk to Stewart, that he deserved an answer to his proposal, but I didn’t know what to say. “Sorry, I panicked when you proposed and didn’t give you an answer?”, “My mom just died, so I don’t know anything anymore?”, “I watched my estranged ex I never told you about nearly die three days ago, and I lost it?”
None of it would’ve made the situation any easier, so I was determined not to respond unless it was with an answer. But seeing Weston last night rattled me to the point that I wasn’t sure which way was up anymore.
Stewart was a good man, if not a little boring. He was a fantastic lawyer, and we initially bonded over work and the intellectual stimulation that it provided, but there was never that spark. I’d never felt like I couldn’t live without him. But maybe that stability and calmness were good and what I needed.
A loud crash from outside made me jump, followed by muffled voices. Men’s voices, but I couldn’t make out what they were saying.
When I got up and looked out my window, Weston was yanking his free arm out of Colt’s grip, refusing help. His face was tight with pain and frustration as he took the porch steps one at a time. His left arm was in a sling. And he looked utterly exhausted in a way I’d never seen before.
My heart sank at the sight of him.
I should go down there and help. But really, what help would I be? I’d probably just be more of a nuisance than anything. And what if I got down there and he wanted to talk about us more? What if he gave me that gut-wrenching, hopeful look he had in the recovery room again? I didn’t think I could take it a second time.
Colt said something, and Weston flipped him off, making Beau laugh before they all went inside.
I walked away from the window and got dressed for the day. I needed to start working on this merger as much as I needed to get away from here.
When I went downstairs after getting ready, Claire was walking through the door. She was already sweaty, and her tank top was dirty despite it only being eight. “You want to break a colt with me?”
That’s the very last thing I wanted to do, right next to figuring out my feelings. I waved my laptop at her before putting it in my tote bag. “No can do. I think I’m going to go to the diner and get started on the merger. Get out of the house for a while.”
“You mean get away from Weston now that he’s home.” It wasn’t a question, but an accusation.
I froze, staring down at my tote. I swallowed hard. “He’s home?” My voice was too high, too uninterested. She’d see right through it.
She walked past me to the kitchen. “You’re too smart to play dumb, Savannah.” She poured herself a glass of water and drained half of it. “Are you ever going to tell me what happened between you two?”
My nosy sister had been trying since I woke up Saturday morning to get answers, and I’d yet to give her any. Simply because I didn’t know what to tell her. I didn’t know how she’d respond when I admitted to sneaking behind her and everyone else’s backs for two years while I fell in love. Or that I kept it hidden for another eleven years after the fact. The secrecy made it seem way more significant than it was, when it was just a high school romance doomed from the start.
And that was all it was. Nothing more.
It didn’t matter that Weston thought he still loved me. That was probably just the morphine talking anyway. And it didn’t matter that hearing him say that made my heart skip a beat. It was just the shock of the evening.
“It’s not important,” I said, throwing my bag over my shoulder. “I’ll see you later.”
