Close As Lovers

Twenty-Five.

Song: You're Still The One- Shania Twain

Three months had passed since the death of Wes' parents.

Everything had slowly transitioned back to normal. Wes and I returned to school, I continued working as a manager at Bob Evans, Lana, Evan, and I hung out occasionally, and Nova and I had a girls day every week. My baby bump was growing, and the following week, Wes and I would go for an ultrasound to find out the sex of the baby. I still had yet to tell my parents-- thankfully they had been busy on business trips so they didn't notice my stomach-- but I was afraid.

Even with life returning to how it was, Wes still wasn't himself. He tried to act happy and not overwhelmed with grief, but I could easily see through it. He was still broken, and what made it even more prominent was when he thought no one was looking. Wes often stayed in his room by himself, and some days, he didn't try to hide how he was honestly feeling with me. I tried my best to be there for him, but seeing him in that state killed me. I just wanted him to be happy. No matter our differences, what we were to each other, or anything that had happened between us, I still loved him and just wanted him to be okay.

Nova grieved for a while, but eventually, she learned to accept it. She was still young, so there wasn't much she understood about death-- she just knew her parents weren't hurting and they were okay. Luckily, she had my parents to act as parent figures to her, and I tried to be the best I could be for her too. She kept herself busy with school and friends-- especially Henry-- and when she wasn't doing those things, she was playing with Barbies or watching movies with Wes and I. Nova tried to make Wes smile everyday, but we both were having a hard time bringing the Wes we knew back.

Throughout all the time I had known Wes, the one thing I had never realized was how sensitive he was. He had a big heart filled to the brim with love, and even if he didn't want to admit it, he wore his heart on his sleeve.He had a hard time letting go and moving on. I knew this well because I was the same way. I knew his parents death would weigh heavy on his shoulders for a while, but the way he had sunk so deep into depression was something that shocked me. A part of me knew to expect it, considering his parents had died, but Wes had never seemed like the person who was capable of sitting in such a dark place.

It had taught me that trauma-- no matter who experienced it-- could drag a person to their knees and keep them there, draining every ounce of color in their world. There was always more than what we saw on the surface.

Perhaps the biggest out-of-normal aspect of life then had been with my biological father. For the first month after Wes' parents death, he attempted to contact me in any way he could. Every time he saw me in public, he tried to strike a conversation, but I never gave him the time of day.

Until a conversation with mom.

"Molly, your father told me you've been ignoring him." She started, sitting on the edge of my bed as she clasped her hands on her lap. Mom always did that right before she lectured me.

I shrugged. "That's probably because I have been ignoring him. I don't want to talk to him. He had his chance for years and now he doesn't deserve that from me."

"Honey," She sighed, scooting closer to me as she placed her hand over mine. "I understand that you're upset--"

"Upset? Are you kidding?" I cut her off, yanking my hand out of her grip as I frowned. "He abused you and I and left us with nothing, mom. I'm beyond upset. He deserves to rot in hell!"

Mom's eyes grew wide as she hissed, "Don't say that about your father!"

"It's the truth mom! How can you forgive him so easily?"