Page 64 of Bossy Mess

Yet, in a sense, that is what it felt like when I was around him. Like he was a missing piece in my puzzle and made me a more complete person. And vice versa. I brought him out of his shell, and he calmed me down when I needed it. Which was fairly often, especially lately.

“Here’s what I know, Sloane: Your face lights up whenever you mention him. I haven’t had a whole lot of time to talk to him, but from what I can gather, he’s sweet and sexy and absolutely adores you. You can usually find one of those three things. Every once in a while, you might get two of them if you’re lucky, but to find a man with all three?”

She let the thought trail off. The implication was clear: she thought I was making a mistake. A huge mistake that I’d never live down.

“This is your knight in shining armor,” she said. “You can’t throw that away on just a feeling.”

Maybe she was right. She was certainly convincing, but she couldn’t understand the real issue at play. Nothing Mila could say that would change the punch-in-the-gut reaction I worried about every time I saw him. And what if things continued and we discovered that we truly were incompatible. I mean in terms of making a baby together? There just wasn’t much time. Wesley was getting older, which was one concern.

But the other was that I was falling for him fast.

The very reasons that Mila gave to tell me how amazing Wesley was were the same reasons I had to call things off now. If I didn’t, I would fall too in love with him to ever say goodbye. The only way to leave a man like Wesley was to cut him off cold turkey and to have the strong resolve to never go back. The more I fell for him, the weaker that resolve would become.

“I need you to promise me something, Mila, okay?” I asked.

“Anything.”

“I need you to trust me on this. I have my reasons and I may not be able to explain them to you, but you need to trust that they’re there.”

“I know,” Mila said. “I just… I want the best for my little sister.”

I knew that Mila meant well, but I’d made my decision and I couldn’t send myself on the rollercoaster ride of questioning it. I was putting my foot down: I wouldn’t be letting Wesley back into my life. And this time I meant it.

“I know you do,” I said. “You probably think I’m stupid and I’m making a huge mistake. And I probably am, but please just let me live my life.”

“Okay,” she told me, and I knew I could trust her. I could always trust her.

At that moment, there was a knock at the door.

“Are you expecting someone?” I asked.

Mila shook her head and walked over to the door, looking in through the peephole. Then she turned towards me, her face looking like she’d seen a ghost.

“It’s him,” she said. “Wesley’s here.”

CHAPTER28

***WESLEY***

Iended up driving to Mila’s apartment every day after the trip to the hospital. I’d park my car outside and look up at the building, contemplate going in, then somehow convince myself that I shouldn't. Sloane told me via text message she just needed a little bit more space. And a little bit of time.

I decided to give it to her.

We both lost our child that day, but she was the one who had Grace growing inside of her. Grace was physically a part of her. In a very real sense, a part of Sloane died that day. And as hard as it was hitting me, I couldn’t imagine how bad it must have been for her.

So, I gave her that space she asked for, but, while she needed space, I needed to see her. For a while, just knowing that I was in close proximity to her was enough, but it could only keep me going for so long. That led to the day when I not only parked the car, but also got out and walked towards the building with every intention of going up to see her. I made it as far as the front door of the complex, but it was locked. Sure, I could have buzzed up to Mila’s apartment and hoped that she would buzz me in, but I couldn’t bring myself to do it. It somehow didn’t feel right to me. I wanted to talk to her directly, not through a distorted box. I waited for somebody to come in or leave so I could get in that way, but nobody did and after a few minutes, I retreated back to the comfort of my car.

I drove back home and kept playing solitaire with that old worn deck of cards, telling myself that I should have waited just a few minutes longer. There could have been someone just around the corner waiting to come in. And I vowed the next day to wait until somebody showed up at the door.

Again, I drove up to the apartment complex and mustered up the confidence to get out of the car. Again, I walked up to that door and again I waited. This time, an old lady came by and opened the door, but looked suspiciously at me and refused to let me go in after her. It was no worry; I'd wait for someone else. Again, nobody came. After an hour of waiting, I was worried I looked like I was loitering and I drove back home.

That night I told myself I was being silly. I could just buzz up to the apartment and if she didn't let me in, then I'd deal with that at the time. Either Mila or Sloane was bound to let me in, right? It would have been rude not to after I drove all the way out to North Hollywood like that.

The next day, I drove to the apartment with every intention of buzzing up to Mila’s apartment, but, as luck would have it, that was the day somebody had put a brick between the door and the frame, propping it open for me to go inside.

I stood outside the door to Mila's apartment and took several deep breaths, trying to prepare myself for the awkward conversation. Maybe Sloane had moved out already. Maybe Mila was back to living alone again.

Maybe. Or maybe not.

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