There is blood smeared on the blankets.
My blood.
I squeeze my eyes shut, attempting to swallow the lump in my throat.
“Why didn’t you tell me?” he asks, voice barely above a whisper.
I open my mouth to respond, but nothing comes out. I can’t bring myself to look at him. I’m frozen, eyes stuck on the rumpled, stained blankets.
“I just…didn’t want to make it a big deal,” I say finally, forcing a shrug like it doesn’t matter. Pretending I don’t feel like there’s a cinder block on my chest.
He doesn’t say anything, and I need to fill the silence.
“This doesn’t change anything.”
“No, Sadie.” He sighs, shaking his head. “This changeseverything.”
His words press into me, heavy and uncomfortable.
Changes everything.
What does that even mean? That we ruined what we had? That he regrets all of it?
“It’s really not a big deal, Wesley,” I repeat, finally looking at him. “I’mfine.”
He runs a hand down his face before hastily pulling his sweatpants back on. When his eyes meet mine, they’re glassy, brimming with emotion.
“Itisa big deal, Sadie. It’s ahugefucking deal.”
His voice cracks ever so slightly on the last word. The walls I’ve meticulously built around my heart crumble, and I can’t help the tears as they spill over, streaking down my cheeks.
He closes the space between us, cupping my face, wiping away each and every tear with the pads of his thumbs.
“Shhh. I’m sorry,” he murmurs, his voice soft and soothing. “Fuck, I’m sorry. I’m not mad at you.” He pulls me into his bare chest, wrapping his arms tightly around me. “I promise I’m not mad at you, Sadie, baby…Please don’t cry.”
“I’m sorry,” I whisper, my voice breaking as more tears slip free. “I didn’t think it would matter to you. I just didn’tthink.”
He pulls back just enough to look at me, his brows drawing together like he’s trying to understand how I could even think that.
“Of course it matters,” he says softly, dragging a hand over his jaw. “If I’d known…I would’ve gone slower. I would’ve made sure I didn’t hurt you. Not”—his gaze shifts to the crumpled blankets—“not like this.”
My lip trembles, but I shake my head hard enough to make my hair fall into my face.
“It was better than I ever imagined it would be,” I whisper, my voice cracking. “Because it was withyou.”
He pulls me back into him, holding me in a way that makes my throat close. His breath ghosts against my temple, ragged and uneven, like he’s barely holding himself together.
“You deserve more than this,” he murmurs, lips brushing my hair.
My chest caves at the way his voice cracks. “I didn’t want that. I just wanted you.”
He shakes his head—stubborn to the bone—but his hands never stop their slow, soothing circles on my back. His chin settles on the crown of my head, his breath warm in my hair.
“I just…I can’t stand the thought of you regretting me—regrettingthis.”
My heart lurches painfully. I pull back just enough to see him, really see him. His eyes are shadowed in the dark.
“I won’t,” I whisper. “I could never regret you.”
