Wanting Wes

Chapter 5

Wes POV

Laurel and I sit in silence, her shoulder pressed into mine as we stay hidden in the small courtyard. A small bench lingering in the shadows facing the windows that give us glimpses of our peers. The room is bright, bustling bodies, laughter sealed inside. It's like watching a film on mute, you can see the interactions, the body language, the things that get lost in the noise.

"Do you still have your denim jacket?" Laurel asks.

I turn to look at her, but she's staring at the windows. The light from inside catching the angles of her face, illuminating her until her ivory skin is glowing in the shadows. She's breathtaking.

"Yeah." I tell her. "I don't wear it much anymore though."

She turns, her eyes meeting mine. They sparkle in the light that intrudes on us, tossing me glimpses of the green that colors them.

It flashes a memory into my mind. A late night at my mom's, both of us sat at my piano as I recovered from a tic attack. What even triggered it I can't remember. But in its wake Laurel asked me to teach her something on the piano. We had tried times before but I wouldn't say she had a penchant for it. I realized later her request was more for my sake than any actual interest in learning. We sat there, her greens eyes dark and catching the reflections of light that bounced off the piano as she fumbled through a line of notes complaining she was awful and could never be taught, I couldn't help but disagree. Laurel was wonderful and she was worth the time, and she was there, next to me in my denim jacket, and all those things I could work with.

"Why not?"

The real reason is more complicated than it should be. It's just a jacket. My jacket. But seeing another girl in it never felt right and rather than deny them my jacket when they were cold I shelved it. And I haven't put it back on since.

"It's old." I tell Laurel.

"It looked good on you." She says.

And before I can think better of myself, remind myself that even though she's going through a divorce it doesn't mean she's interested in me, I tic and say "it always looked better on you."

"You probably say that to all the girls you dated." She smiles, avoiding my eyes as she does.

For a second I think about letting her comment slide. Let it exist between us, separating us further and maybe I should. But I've had a lot of time to torture myself with what ifs. And the dimly lit corner we've found ourselves in caressed in romantic light leaves my thoughts clouded and my judgement out the door and everyone else has been brave enough to spill their hearts to have the person they want.

I can be brave.

"I'm still in love with you Laurel."

The words leave my mouth in one breath, lingering in the air around us, frozen as if time has stopped but neither of us seem to be processing anything.

I'm waiting for her to say something, anything, a tic disrupting our stillness when I realize she doesn't feel the same.

"Don't worry, it doesn't have to change anything." I back track. "Obviously you're, fuck, going through things and ya know..." a tic goes though my arm and I jerk my head to the side. "

"Wes I'm pregnant." She says it over my tics, fear laced in her words.

"What?" It's not the best response but out of everything I was expecting her to say that was not even on the list. She's dumbfounded me.

Naïve of me probably.

And as I sit there trying to get my brain to catch up and my tics to take a rest for a moment Laurel starts to unravel. All the walls she keeps around her begin to crumble, brick by brick, exposing her fears and worries.

In that moment I realize Laurel didn't push me away because I did something wrong. She pushed me away to build new walls. To create a new front to shield herself behind.

I met Bryce a handful of times, he never seemed like a bad guy. But it was clear he was living a certain lifestyle with glamorous things. Generous with his apparent success to the point sometimes it felt arrogant. That didn't make him an awful person though and Laurel seemed happy, like she loved him and his lavish life. But maybe she was trying to fit into Bryce's world more than I realized, to be what he wanted rather than allowing herself to exist.

I haven't been listening, not as closely as I should be anyway. Her fears are still spilling out of her, her emerald eyes like glass in the dark as tears fill them.

I know it's hasty. I know everyone's going to tell me to stop. To think. Take a breath. But I have always loved Laurel. I'll continue to love her.

And I'll love her child too.

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One more chapter.