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Just when I think she’s about to give in and tell me, the doorbell rings, and it’s almost as if she’s relieved.
“What are you doing here?” There’s panic in her voice, and I feel like whoever sent her the flowers is here to apologize in person.
I stood up when London went to answer the door, just in case whoever it is on the other side is company that she needs to spend time with. I ready myself to leave on her command, but the voice from the other side of the door causes my back to stiffen.
“London, please. We need to talk. It’s important.” My brother’s voice, pleading with London, makes me tilt my head.
Why is he even here?
“I told you, Wes, I need space,” she tells him. “You coming around, calling, sending flowers, isn’t helping.”
“I’m not here because of that right now. I came to tell you that I found out that Jared is back. I felt like it was my job to warn you and come check on you.”
Considering how things went the last few times I saw her, I understand Wes’s concern for London. God knows I was a dick and treated her horribly, both when I left her after my fight with Wes and when she tracked me down at the bar when I was with Suzie Q’s band.
“Wes,” London says, “I already know.”
“You do?” Even I can hear the curiosity in his voice.
I shove my hands in my pockets so I don’t come off as aggressive as I step up behind London. Wes’s eyes land squarely on me, and his jaw instantly stiffens. Clearly there won’t be one of those made-for-television reunion moments happening between my brother and me. The expression on his face tells me that he’s pissed that I’m here.
“You’ve got to be kidding me,” Wes growls as he redirects his gaze back to London. “You let him in here? Have you lost your mind?”
“Wes, please,” she pleads. “Calm down. We’re just talking.”
“I won’t calm down! He doesn’t get to talk to you—not after what he did—not ever! The bastard doesn’t deserve any kindness from you.”
I understand why he’s mad, but he’s got to be able to tell by looking at me that I am not the same hothead I was before. I need to make him understand that I mean her no harm. “Wes, man, look, I know—”
He points his finger in my direction. “You can just shut up. Whatever you think you had with her in the past, it’s over. You blew your chances with her.”
“If I want to talk to her, you can’t stop me,” I retort. “It’s up to her if she wants me to leave or not. This is her house.”
Wes narrows his eyes at me. “That’s where you’re wrong again. This is my house, asshole.”
I flinch. “Your house?” My eyes flick down to London. “What’s he talking about?”
She swallows hard. “That’s what I was trying to tell you before. Wes and I . . .”
I hold my breath as she struggles to tell me exactly what’s going on between them. My heart squeezes in my chest, and my knees grow a little weak after my brain puts two and two together.
Unable to wait on her to finish, I fill in the gap. “The two of you live together? You’re like a thing?”
“We’re more than a ‘thing.’ London is my wife.”
My eyes widen and it’s suddenly hard to breathe. “Wife . . . ?”
“That’s right. Things have changed since you walked out of here, so don’t act so surprised that she moved on without you. You left her for five years! I was the one who stayed and picked up all the pieces of the mess you left behind. So like I said, you don’t get to talk to her. She no longer belongs to you.”
My eyes widen. All of the times when I was out on the road touring and thought about London and my family, never did I picture this scenario happening. Sure, I knew Wes had a thing for London, but I didn’t think London would ever reciprocate Wes’s feelings. She always seemed so oblivious to the way he looked at her.
Ever since we were kids, I noticed Wes stared at London a little too long, but I couldn’t blame him. London is the most beautiful girl I’ve ever seen. It’s hard to not notice her.
The rage I normally feel when things don’t go my way isn’t there. I’ve learned too much about how much hurt flying off the handle can cause. Them being together—it’s my fault. Leaving did push them together. I have no doubt that my brother was probably the shoulder she cried on when I shattered her heart.
Wes is right. I no longer have any claim on London. I left her behind—walked completely out of her life—it’s not fair of me to be upset that she moved on.
I close my eyes and frown. When I reopen them, I flick my gaze from London to my brother and then back again, knowing this whole situation was created by me. I can’t be mad at them. More than anything, I envy Wes. He has the life that I wanted with London, living the dream that I screwed up when I walked out on her.
