Page 54 of From West, With Regret

“I was on the phone with some contacts I have in Boston.”

“Boston?” she asks, her gorgeous eyes widening, swinging back to me.

I see the pieces fall into place for her. Boston equals Heath.

“Is it true what he did to you?” I ask, blurting out the one question that’s been weighing on my mind since my mother told me this afternoon, even though I already know the answer. My call earlier confirmed it.

“What do you mean?” Her eyebrows pull together.

“My mother came by my apartment earlier,” I explain, the knot in my chest tightening. “She said...”

Fuck, her entire body tenses. She wrings her charcoal-stained hands.

“I never told your mom about Heath’s abuse,” she stammers. “How could I when I didn’t even talk to her until the day of his funeral?” She won’t look at me. “Did she find out what I told you and now she doesn’t believe me?” She finally shifts her attention to me.

I grip the back of the chair to keep myself from falling to my knees.

She thinksIdon’t believe her.

“I’m not questioning the abuse, London. I wouldn’t. I’m asking you if it’s true what Heath did to youafterhis death. Did he truly kick you out and that’s why you’re staying in New York?”

Her silence is enough of an answer for me.

Not that I needed it anyway. After I got to the bar, before London showed up, I reached out to a few contacts I have in Boston and asked if it was true what my mother had said. That Heath had told his lawyers to order her to never return to their home and had all her belongings shipped here to Boston.

I thought I was angry when they confirmed it was true, but seeing London’s broken heart takes it to another level. Rage consumes me.

The fucker can rot in Hell for what he’s done.

“It’s not right what he did, London.”

“I’m fine.” She isn’t cold or angry with me. She’s firm, strong. But, fuck, if she only knew that I already know how strong she is. If onlysheremembered how strong she was. “I considered fighting back against Heath’s lawyers, but I’d rather not waste my time or money. Even if he were alive, I wouldn’t have fought him on it.”

“Di—” The name I’ve fought to keep locked away nearly breaks free. I clear my throat as blood drains from my face. I know the feeling of regret. It’s a demon I’ve become all too familiar with over the years. “London.” My voice cracks. “Are you already regretting what we did up there?”

Her eyes soften, and tears line her black lashes. When one slips down her cheek, I not only want to wipe it away, I want to lick it away, too.

“I don’t know,” she confesses, her chin wobbling.

“I’m not.” I say it so fast, it takes her several seconds to register what I’ve said. “I meant every word I said. If this is about Heath?—”

“It’s not about Heath.” She sighs.

“Then, what is it?”

“I don’t know.” She shakes her head, avoiding me again. “I like you, West. More than I should, but it’s hard to explain.”

“You know you can talk to me, right? About anything.”

An arrow aiming straight for my heart severs me and splits my chest in two when her eyes dart to mine.

“That’s what I’m afraid of.” She inhales another shaky breath, her bottom lip quivering.

I wonder if there’s more to what she’s saying than she’sletting on. Is she afraid because she’s remembering? Even just a little bit? Is she afraid of me?

I hope to fucking hell she isn’t. I meant every word upstairs. This moment is a prime example. I’m stumbling to find the words to keep her here. I know I can’t forever, and I can’t shake the fear of her disappearing again. A fear I’ve held on to for far too many years. Old habits die hard, I guess.

I want nothing more than to wrap my arms around London and never let her go, willing her to remember me. Call me selfish; I don’t fucking care. I want her memories to come flooding back because I know in the midst of it all, I’d catch her. Just like I’m willing to catch her now.