“Is this a big glass or small glass kind of talk we’re about to have?” Wes’s voice is casual, but I can hear the undercurrent of concern there.
When I look over the fridge door, he’s standing with one of each in his hands, weighing them up and down.
“Definitely the big one,” I say with a smirk.
“I knew you liked big ones.” The way he deadpans this statement nearly makes me drop the bottle of wine.
I recover quickly and volley my comeback. “True, not sure why I hang around you then. All you’ve got going on is that big ego.”
I shoot him a devilish smile, proud of myself for that sick burn.
“Ouch, Joss. Taking size jokes to a whole new level.” He shakes his head at me like he’s disappointed. “You get the small one for that—and I’m taking my hoodie back too.”
He moves to put the large wineglass back in the cupboard.
“No! I’m sorry.” I put my hand on his arm to stop him and give him my biggest doe eyes, rapidly blinking my lashes.
“Okay, you can keep it, but only because you’re my favorite,” he says before giving me a little peck on the cheek. Placing the smallglass back in the cupboard, he grabs a second large one and turns to walk into the living room, leaving me stunned.
I recover quickly, grabbing the bottle of rosé with a grin, my cheek pleasantly raw from his stubble. Steeling myself, I walk into the living room to have a conversation withmyfavorite person… about my least favorite person.
CHAPTER TWENTY-THREE
Joss
We’re sitting on opposite sides of the couch while I fiddle with the hem of Wes’s hoodie. He’s quietly watching me, giving me the space to talk when I’m ready. I don’t think I’ll ever be ready for this. The way he never talked about Brenna… That’s how I am with my mom. The difference being that his silence lasted less than a year, and mine has been going for seven.
I pick up my glass off the coffee table, taking a fortifying sip of liquid courage, and lock all my emotions up tight so I can get through this. Then I start at the beginning.
“My dad left when I was fourteen. He had an affair, and another daughter as a result. He started another family and I… I haven’t heard from him since. He chose them over us.”
“Shit, Joss, I had no idea. I’m so sorry.”
I shake my head. I don’t want his pity, especially on this. That’s just a small part of the story, and if he’s feeling sorry for me already, things will only become more difficult as I keep going.
“It’s okay. Well, no. It’s not.” I huff out a breath, my shoulders sagging. “But it’s not your fault, and honestly, that betrayal was just the first of many.”
He reaches across the couch to grab my hand and gives it a light squeeze. When I finally look at him, that pity I thought I heard has been replaced with concern. He’s giving me support so I can keep going, and it feels like everything.
“After he left, my mom… She didn’t cope well. She moved us around a lot, trying to find me anew dad.” I add air quotes, rolling my eyes at the idea. Wes stays silent, and it gives me the strength to continue. “I went to five schools in four years. We moved from one man’s house to the next—Melbourne to Adelaide, and just about everywhere in between. My mom was always so sure that each would bethe one. They never were.”
It always made me so mad how she pretended it was all for me. In reality,shewanted someone who would provide for her. Whether that extended to me was just a bonus.
“The first few guys weren’t too bad, but they got progressively worse. The last one before I turned eighteen took the cake. I don’t know what exactly he did to keep himself and my mom living the lifestyle they had, but I suspect it wasn’t above board.”
The memories of that house weave through my mind. “I can’t tell you how often I stayed with friends or slept in my car just to avoid being there. The number of times I slept in the back of the surf shop I worked at—something I never told the owners. It’s a wonder Iwas never arrested.” I shake my head. Those weren’t details I’d planned to tell Wes. The fact that I’m about to share the next part makes my heart rate spike and blood pound in my ears.
“Just before I graduated high school, there were some things I needed from the house, so I went home after school. That day, my mom was out but Tom was there.” I gulp down air and slide my wineglass onto the table as my hand starts to shake. Wes sees it and envelopes it in his, anchoring me. I lock eyes with him, seeing the fear etched there, of what I’ll say if I keep going.
“When he realized we were alone, he made a pass at me. He… he grabbed for me.” I shudder, tensing up, but Wes’s hand holds mine steady. “He must’ve thought he’d be able to overpower me, but he was drunk and I was fast. I was out the door and in my car before anything could happen. I never went back. I stayed with a friend for the last few days of school, and then right after graduation, I got in my car and put Adelaide in my rearview for good.”
The rage rippling off Wes is palpable, and I have to look away. I’ve refused to give the memories the power of making me cry, and I plan to keep it that way.
“I’d already set up an interview in Sydney for a job with Qantas, so I drove the fifteen hours straight through to get here. I wanted to leave all that darkness behind me, and when the opportunity to train as a flight attendant came up, I gave it all I had.
“My mom eventually tracked me down. The car was registered to their insurance, and I still had my phone that they paid for. I’d left everything else behind in that house though, so I had to start over from scratch,make my own way.”
I rush to get the next part out. “When I told my mom what happened, I expected her to leave him, to finally stand up for me, to rage and rush to defend her daughter. She didn’t. Instead, she blamed me. It was my fault that he’d kicked her out. It was my fault she lost everything.”
