But I can’t wait. Now that I’m moving, it’s like a fire’s been lit and it’s burning out of control. I just want this part over. The doorknob is cold under my palm, the click of the deadbolt loud in my ears. I have the briefest moment to take in my mother standing at the threshold before she shrieks, “Surprise!”
I’m shocked back a step when she pulls me into a hug, and my back hits a bare chest. Wes’s chest. Where is his shirt? I crane my neck enough to get a glimpse of his torso before his shirt slides into place. Ah, he was pulling it on as I opened the door, and now I’m trapped in a Wes-and-Mom sandwich.
“Mom.”
I don’t know what I expected, but this hug as if nothing happened isn’t it. I can’t look at her, so my eyes flick back to the door. My entire body goes rigid as a sickening realization crests over me like a wave. She didn’t bring Bill. She didn’t bring some random guy she’s shacked up with. My vocal cords thaw just as my mom pulls back and turns to face the man standing in the hallway.
“Dad,” I gasp.
Wes’s arms band around my middle in a heartbeat, the word throwing him into action. He pulls me tight against his chest again, away from my mom. She’s looking between us with a smile on her face. This is why she was so vague about who she was bringing. She broughthim.
“Hi, Joss,” my dad says, sounding tentative but hopeful.
Just hearing his voice hurts. It’s like a finger pressed to a long-healed wound. One where the scar tissue is almost more painful than the original blow. That voice, all these years later, brings with it an onslaught of memories. I’m thankful for Wes’s steady presence and the way it’s keeping me upright.
I can’t speak, my voice has seized yet again. I was prepared for Mom—or at least as prepared as I could be—but this? There is nothing I could have done to prepare for this. Wes’s arms lock tighter around my waist for just a second, a silent promise.I’ve got you.
One arm loosens from where he’s wound around me, reaching forward to my mom.
“Hi, I’m Wes. I’m afraid you caught us still in bed.” He lets a laugh loose, a real laugh, and the entire mood lightens. Awkward chuckles from my parents echo around us. I hear it all through a fog as I force a smile onto my face. It probably looks deranged.
My mom’s hand meets his and her smile grows. He’s charming her already. “Andrea. It’s so nice to meet you, Wes.”
When my mom moves aside, my dad takes a step forward and I tense. Our matching grey eyes haven’t left each other since the first moment I saw him. His arm moves as if in slow motion, extending toward Wes. Their hands meet, and at the same time, Wes’s other hand slips just underneath the hoodie, his thumb rubbing circles over my hip, soothing an ache he can’t even see.
“I’m Brian. We’re sorry for disrupting your morning.”
He’s less than a foot from me. This man I haven’t seen or spoken to in sixteen years. Not since I was fourteen years old. All at once, it’s too much, and I wrench myself free. My stomach pitches. I’m going to be sick. I barely hear Wes’s pained voice calling my name as I run for the bathroom.
My knees hit the tile and I relish the sharp pain, the pressure, as I heave and heave over the porcelain bowl. There’s nothing but ringing in my ears, blocking everything else out, so I don’t hear him coming. His hands reach around my face to pull my hair back, fingers grazing my cheek, my neck. A soothing hand glides up and down my back from where he’s crouched around me like a protective animal.
There’s nothing left in my stomach, but my body continues to shudder against the onslaught of dry heaves until I finally slump sideways into Wes. The force knocks him off-balance and he falls back against the bathtub with a thud, me in his lap.
“Shit, I’m sorry,” I say, attempting to move, but his arms wind around me, twining vines of support, intent to hold me steady. I relax into his grip, my head lolling onto his chest.
“Don’t apologize, Grey. I’m good.”
A washcloth materializes in front of my face. Grabbing it, I wipe my face, feeling disgusting and still a little queasy.
“So, uh, that’s your dad, huh?” The irony in his tone isn’t lost on me, and my answering laugh is humorless and rough.
“Yeah. That’s him.”
“What can I do, Grey? Do you want them to leave? This isn’t what you signed up for with this visit.”
Is that what I want? I mean, at this point, they’re here. Maybe I ought to take this opportunity to… Shit. I don’t know. There must be a reason they’re here now, right? They wouldn’t have traveled all this way for nothing. Oh god, are they here together? Like,togethertogether? My stomach clenches again, and if there were anything left to throw up, I would.
Deep breaths, Joss.Inhale. Hold. Exhale. Hold. Again and again.
Wes presses a kiss to the top of my head and I sink into him further. I want to stay cocooned on the bathroom floor and forget that my parents are sitting in the living room waiting for us.
“Are they just sitting out there?” I say into his chest, letting my fingers splay across the muscles there.
“Yeah, I wasn’t sure what else to do with them.” His hand drifts up and down my arm.
“Okay.” I exhale loudly on the word. “I need to take a shower. I can’t go out there like this. Can you—”
“I’ve got it, take your time. We’ll be there when you’re ready.”
