Page 44 of From This Moment (After We Fall 4)
“What made you do it?” Anne’s eyes were wide.
“I’ve been asking myself that question for two days, and I think the answer is a complicated mix of I had a Bad Day, I was feeling extra lonely, I missed my old life, and Wes was there, looking exactly like my dead husband. I think I threw myself at a ghost.” I could still remember staring out the window at Wes pushing Abby on the swing, desperately wishing things were different so I could feel happy again. The only hitch in my theory was that I wasn’t thinking about Drew when I did what I did—I was thinking about Wes.
But I didn’t want to dwell on that. As long as my friends saw my explanation as plausible, I’d stick with it. Anything else was too uncomfortable to deal with. Too sticky a mess.
Tess finished pouring and handed me a glass of wine. “You poor thing.”
“At least he was a gentleman about it,” Grace offered. “A lot of guys probably would have just done it.”
“Yeah.” Somehow that didn’t make me feel any better. For two days, I’d been obsessing over that first minute where he’d kissed me back. It had felt so good to be held that way. Touched that way. Wanted that way. Not just by any man, but by him. It was awful of me.
“So then what happened?” Tess asked.
“Um, then it got worse.” I winced. “After he pushed me away, I threw this massive tantrum. I screamed at him. I told him to fuck off. I slapped his face.”
“Oh my God.” She put a hand on her chest. “What did he do?”
“Nothing. Kept his cool and went home, like a gentleman would.”
“Have you seen him since?” Anne asked.
“Only once. He came over the next morning, which was yesterday, with a little note for Abby for her first day of school. I apologized profusely, and he accepted.”
“Well, there you go. Don’t beat yourself up about it, Hannah.” Tess rubbed my shoulder. “Sounds like he understands.”
“He does. That’s the crazy thing, you guys.” I shook my head. “Wes gets me. Talking to him is so easy. I find myself telling him things I haven’t told anyone.”
“Really?” Tess was looking at me differently now.
“Yes. It’s almost eerie how safe I feel with him, given that he’s only been back for a week.”
“I think it’s sweet,” Grace said. “You have a connection. You trust each other.”
“Yeah, but it’s—it’s messing with me a little,” I admitted, shifting in my chair. “So I asked him to stay away for a while, and he agreed.”
Anne and Tess exchanged a look. “What do you mean?” asked Anne.
“I mean, being around him was starting to make me feel things that aren’t real.” I launched into the extended version of my theory. “I look at him and see Drew, so my body reacts. Add to that how well we get along and how good he is with Abby, and it’s no wonder I get confused, right? I’m obviously looking at him as a substitute for Drew.”
Everyone was silent a minute.
“Are you sure you don’t have some feelings for Wes?” Tess asked gently. “Feelings that exist outside your grief over Drew?”
“Positive,” I said. “It was just my mind playing tricks on me.”
But it was a lie.
The truth was, as the days went by, I couldn’t get Wes out of my head. It was like that kiss had flipped a switch in me. For the first time since Drew died, another man was at the forefront of my thoughts. Not only another man, but his brother. And he wasn’t just hanging around in my thoughts—he was doing things. With his hands. And his mouth. And his cock. Things I hadn’t done in a year and a half. Things I’d never done. Things that made me blush. Things that made me feel swoony and hot. Things that made me want to reach between my legs at night to relieve the tension—but I didn’t.
It was too wrong, I told myself. Too misguided. Too shameful. Guilt weighed heavily on me. What kind of woman got herself off while thinking about her dead husband’s brother? Denying myself almost became a sort of punishment. And I truly deserved it—not only for what I had done or what I couldn’t stop thinking about doing, but for letting my guard down. For making myself susceptible to rejection. For opening myself up to feel things, when I should have known better.
I didn’t want feelings—not for any man, but especially not for Wes. No matter what it took, I had to shut them down.
The only thing that made it a little easier was knowing the feelings were one-sided. Wes stayed away like I’d asked. No texts, no calls, no drop-in visits. He doesn’t miss you, I told myself. He isn’t thinking about you. He doesn’t want you. It hurt, but I could handle it.
Pain, I was used to. Pain was familiar. Pain was safe.
Saturday after work, Lenore called and asked if Abby could sleep over, and I’d been tempted to say no, since I didn’t want to risk running into Wes when I dropped her off, but Abby was standing next to me with her hands clasped under her chin, chanting, “please, please, please,” so I ended up saying yes. On the way over, I’d prayed he wouldn’t be there, and I’d thanked my lucky stars on the way home because I’d been in and out of the house in five minutes and no one had even mentioned him.
