Savior

Twenty-One: Mia

I barely slept that night once I finally got back to my apartment. I had honestly intended to go back inside. I wasn't completely clueless. I knew what I saw had way more to do with Lucy than it did Wes, but it jarred me. So, I just elected to get some air before causing a scene and jumping to conclusions. The last thing Wes's reinvigorated career needed was him sandwiched in some cat fight. I watched Lucy storm off at one point and told myself I needed to thank Jazz, but before I could collect myself enough to go back in, Jazz stormed out, and the look on her face told me I wasn't going to like what had happened in my absence.

The Uber ride home was silent, Jazz deciding that we needed to be alone so whatever it was she had to tell me, and when she finally started spilling the details? I, unfortunately, was not surprised. I knew Wes had been freaking out. I could feel it every second we were together. I did my best to be reassuring, to try to prove that we could do this, but apparently it hadn't been enough. He was planning on ending it. Honestly, hearing how much he doubted himself was the worst part. It was like all of the good parts of him, all of the parts I loved the most, he felt like were dependent on me being present. I knew that wasn't true, but it had become quite clear that I wasn't going to convince him of it. He had already decided it wasn't going to work, and I wasn't about to try to force it. If he wanted out, I'd let him. But it was going to happen face to face.

Surprisingly, Wes didn't try to get ahold of me at all. I expected calls, texts, apologies, him just randomly showing up, but nothing. So, instead, I texted him early that afternoon and told him we needed to talk. He didn't respond, but I could see that he read it and by three o'clock there was a knock at my front door.

I opened the door to find him standing there, eyes on the carpet, hands shoved deeply into the pockets of his jeans. He looked utterly exhausted, which made me feel better about my current state.

"Come in," I stated, opening the door wider and ushering him inside. He did so silently, and sank into the end of the sofa, his elbows rested on his knees while his hands held his head. "You look like hell."

I heard a soft scoff. "Didn't get much sleep."

"Do I wanna know why?"

His eyes slowly raised to mine. "I went home almost right after Jazz left, Mia. I swear."

"Almost?"

He gave me some sort of half sigh, half groan. "I had another drink. Channing called..."

"If you're about to tell me you went out with CHANNING..."

"I didn't!" he exclaimed, his voice suddenly loud and forceful. "I'm not going to say I didn't think about it, cuz I did. I'd already screwed up the night enough, but I didn't. And then I heard Lucy in the background and I knew they set me up..."

I laughed at that. "Go fucking figure."

"I blocked him, Mi. I told him to fuck off and I blocked him. Him and Lucy both."

"Should've done that a long time ago..."

"I know. I KNOW," Wes almost whined. "I guess I just... I didn't want to believe he was the monster that he'd made himself look like but..."

"But he is, Wes," I interrupted. "He's not good for you. That man is not your friend."

"I know."

"And if you want to keep your career, you need to fucking stay away from him."

"I know, I will," Wes insisted. He then gulped and ran his hand through the mess of curls atop his head. "I didn't kiss her, Mia. I swear to you. I just... I froze up. She was saying all this shit, all this stuff about how I wasn't good enough, that we'd never make it and..."