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My heart squeezes in my chest when I hear her defend me. I wish I could thank her—hold her—comfort her, but I know that would only make things worse with Wes, so I sit there, quiet.
Wes walks over to London and stretches out his hand. “I lost it. I’m sorry. Come back home with me.”
The word “home” might as well be another punch in the gut. The thought of him taking her home and being the one to comfort her hurts so fucking bad.
Tears stream down London’s face as she takes his hand and allows him to help her up. The sight of them together is almost more than I can take. When he pulls her in against his chest, I drop my eyes down to the floor by their feet so I don’t have to watch this tender moment take place right in front of me.
It’s then I notice blood trickling down London’s legs, just above her knees. Oh my God. She’s hurt. Energy surges through me and I shove myself up from the floor to stand on my own two feet. “London? Are you all right?” Her beautiful green eyes point in my direction, and I motion down to her legs. “You’re bleeding.”
“Oh, God. No!” is all she manages to say before Wes and I look at each other with wide eyes as the realization of what’s happening to her hits us.
“Come on. I’ll drive us to the hospital,” I say and grab the keys to my rental off the counter.
Wes leads London out the door but doesn’t once fight me on being the one driving them. The entire fifteen-minute ride over to the hospital, Wes apologizes to London, blaming himself for what’s happening to her.
I can empathize with the agony he feels. Five years ago, I was the one who lost control and hurt London, which was how I knew I was no longer the right guy for her. I allowed my own pain and anger to blind me to the point where I physically lashed out at others.
It’s hard for me to know that I’m the source of my brother’s rage, and more than anything I wish he knew how truly sorry I am for hurting him all those times in the past.
The tile below my feet is worn from the high traffic that comes in and out of the emergency room. I pace while I wait to hear how London’s doing. She’s been back there nearly an hour, and I’ve received no word.
I look up just in time to see Mom walking toward me with a worried expression on her face. She cradles my face in her hands as she examines me. “Wes did this? Are you sure you don’t need to see a doctor too while we’re here?”
I pull her hands down, away from my face. “I’ll be fine, Mom. Nothing a little time and ice won’t heal. I’m more concerned with London right now.”
“How is she?” Mom asks.
I shake my head. “I don’t know. Wes hasn’t come out to tell me anything.”
“Mom?” I turn around when I hear Wes call for our mother. “She’s asking for you.”
Mom pats my arm. “Don’t worry, honey. I’m sure she’s going to be okay.”
I nod as she takes off back through the double wooden doors with Wes. Needing some fresh air, I make my way outside of the building and find a quiet bench to sit on. I rest my elbows on my thighs and allow my head to drop down while I say a little silent prayer that London will be okay.
“Do you mind if I sit?” I look up to see Wes standing there with his hands shoved deep in his front pockets.
I scoot over. “Sure . . . unless you want to hit me some more.”
I’m only half kidding, because I don’t think I’ll be able to take many more punches to the face.
After a couple seconds of debate, Wes sits down. “You don’t know how bad I wish I could hit you, but for some crazy reason I can’t make myself do it. You are still my brother, and other than Mom, you’re the only family that I have left. I won’t hurt you, no matter how I much hate you right now. I know we both care for London, and right now she needs us both to be strong for her. She lost the baby.”
Tears form in my eyes. “I’m so sorry, Wes.”
Wes is more of a man than me. When I was angry, I forgot all about the strong bond of family, and it took me five years to man up and face the people who I pointed all my anger on, Wes included. I took my anger out on him—he became the target of my rage because he was one of the people who was closest to me. Family is the most important thing in this world. We need to figure out a way to heal all the wounds in ours and find a way to move forward.
“I’m sorry, Wes. I’ve apologized to London, but I need you to hear it too. I know that I was wrong to leave the way I did. All I can do is ask for your forgiveness.”
“How can I forgive you when you return home after five years to the person I love most in the world, and she wants you more than she wants me? Do you know how much that kills me?” he says.
I can tell that he’s hurting, but I am too. “The same way I can forgive you for moving in on the one woman I’ve loved since I was just a kid while I was gone.”
He raises his eyebrows in surprise as he thinks about what I’ve said. “I always hated that she picked you over me. She never even looked in my direction until you were gone. I was her consolation prize—the next-best thing to you that she could find. I know that she still loves you. She made that very clear to me over the years, and I hate that. I hate that she couldn’t move on past you and see that I loved her too. We both want her, and I don’t know how to fix this, because no matter who she chooses, someone’s getting hurt.”
I frown as I think back to the first time London traipsed into our yard to play baseball with Wes and me. We both did our best to impress her—to win her over—so we’ve been fighting over her for so long, but only she gets to decide who wins. “I
t’s not up to us. It never has been. It’s always been her choice.”
