“You finally smiled at me.”
She rolled her eyes, but the smile was still there. “I’m not smiling at you,” she insisted.
“I hate it,” I admitted after a long moment of silence. “I hate that I broke us.”
“Yeah, you did.” She picked at her thumbnail. “Things happened that changed me. I don’t have much to smile about right now.”
“Because of me.”
She snickered. “You’re so cocky. I just got a divorce, muthafucka. My world doesn’t revolve around you.”
I barked out a laugh for the first time today, and she joined me. That shit felt good. So good. And it sounded good, too. Almost like a love song, the perfect melody. Her treble to my bass. It reminded me of easygoing afternoons and Saturday mornings, taking walks in the park or playing video games at the carriage house. I missed it, the freedom of simply being me. She was someone who’d always accepted me with no questions.
“I guess I should thank you now,” I suggested.
She eyed me skeptically. “Why?”
“For taking pity on me, coming to check on me. I know you didn’t want to.”
Albany swallowed visibly. “I don’t believe in kicking people when they’re down. Mostly. Besides, Jackson is an ass. Always has been. He must’ve said something pretty bad for you to react that way.”
“He’s predictable. I knew that and I …” I rubbed my face. Jackson only did what I allowed him to do, and I jumped into that conflict headfirst. No excuses. “I knew better.”
“It’s not too late to do better.” She stood, squeezed my shoulder gently. “Take care of yourself, Wes.”
I watched her disappear around the corner and rested my head against the wall. A few minutes ago, I considered the night a bust. But now … everything that happened was worth the time I’d just spent with Albany. I wanted more. And I wouldn’t be happy until she was mine again.
Chapter 7
Wesley
Ifucked up last night.
Drinking at the fundraiser, causing a scene, choking Jackson … Yeah, not my finest moment. And I didn’t stop there. The urge to wreck my life had reared its ugly-ass head. Instead of taking the L and going to bed, I grabbed the fifth of cognac and drowned my sorrows. While I’d stopped short of taking home some random woman at the bar, I’d still done enough to find my activities on IG.
Ms. Tea’s early morning post had skewered me over hot coals for my reckless actions. And I couldn’t even be mad at her. I knew better, and I still fucked up.
The hot water rained down my back as I stood in the shower, as every small detail of the night replayed in my mind. Crazy looks from appalled guests at the fundraiser, Granny’s disappointed eyes, the feeling of walking a plank as I was escorted from the room, Uncle John’s knowing smirk on my way out … But it was that short conversation with Albany on the bench that stuck out to me.
For the first time since she’d returned to town, she wasn’t angry with me. She wasn’t there to twist the knife. Instead, she’d applied a salve of sorts, with her soft laugh and concerned eyes. It felt like a glimpse of sun on an overcast day, and I appreciated her for it. Ultimately, it didn’t prevent the wrong decision to go to the bar, but it helped.
The water ran cold, interrupting my thoughts.Shit.
Grabbing a towel, I exited the shower, dried off, and wrapped it around my waist. I milled around the closet for a while, mulling my day. Work? Home? Work at home. Decision made, I dropped the towel and slipped on a pair of joggers.
On my way to the kitchen, I grabbed my phone and sent a message to my assistant letting her know I wasn’t coming to the office but would be online if she needed me. Then I started an email to Granny. Except I couldn’t find the words to make anything I did okay, so I closed the app and opened TikTok. I’d already listened to Ms. Tea’s latest video, but I was a glutton for punishment, so I did it again. And again. The comments sometimes gave me a laugh, but this time, I couldn’t find the humor. It wasn’t even noon, and there were thousands of people weighing in on my character as if they knew me.
Sighing, I stopped scrolling, poured a glass of water, and popped some ibuprofen. That was when I realized I wasn’t alone. I swallowed.
“How long have you been here?”
Granny stared at me, a quizzical look in her brown eyes. She was seated at the kitchen table, a pitcher of water in her hands. “Good thing you emerged when you did. I was on my way to wake you up.”
I gestured toward the pitcher. “With that?”
Standing, she approached me. “Since you like drama, I figured I’d be a little dramatic.”
“Granny, I—”
