Page 87 of Puck with Karma
He gives me a kind smile. I wish we would’ve clicked and fallen in love. It would’ve saved a lot of heartache for me.
“Because I should’ve realized from the beginning how good of a person you are, Abby. I wish things worked out between us.”
He is so close to what I was just thinking only seconds ago.
“But I met someone else, and… I fucked up with her,” he admits, a pained look on his face. “I don’t know if it can be fixed.”
I touch his arm softly. “I’m so sorry.”
He turns his head to look out through the windshield.
“I could tell you met someone, too, from the moment I saw your face at your folks’ house.”
I let out a long breath of air, wondering how he can tell. I doubt he knows me that well.
“I recognized the look on your face,” he continues. “It was misery.” I laugh at the dry tone of his voice. “I am just as miserable.”
“I don’t know why you’re telling me all this, Wes.”
He laughs again. “I’m not sure.”
We remain quiet in the confinements of his car. I don’t have anywhere to go, and he doesn’t seem to be in a hurry to throw me out.
“But I’ve been thinking that you should go to New York.”
Okay, now I am truly shocked.
“Why New York?”
“Because Brandon is there, and I think it will help you heal. For all these years,” he looks at me again, “you’ve been trying to hide how much you missed your brother. Now you have the opportunity to go to him. Your relationship with your parents is in the toilet anyway. What’s stopping you?”
I stare at him, the wheels turning in my head. And he has a great point. What’s preventing me from turning up on Brandon’s doorstep?
“It’s just an idea,” Wesley shrugs. “I’m trying to help you like you’re trying to help me.”
An awkward pause ensues.
“Thank you for your offer to invest in my business. I accept.”
I wave him off. “I probably should’ve asked more questions about that. But I am committed to it, and I will send you the name of my attorney to look everything over.”
“Fair enough,” he agrees.
Meanwhile, I grab my cell phone and start typing on it like crazy. I have lots to do.
“You wanna come inside?”
I blindly open the door to Wesley’s car and walk to his front door without taking my eyes off my phone. I somehow end up on the couch in his living room, but I don’t remember getting there.
First, I text my two best friends. It is a message of distress in a way, but I do inform them that there’s been a change of plans, and I will be heading to New York.
Next, I look up flights.
“Wow, these are not cheap.”
“Why would you want to fly there?” Wesley’s voice sounds incredulous. “It’s within driving distance.”
I look up at him. “Because I don’t have a car,” I remind him. “What am I supposed to drive there?”
