Rubbing my thumb across the top of his hand, I nod.
“Right in the middle of our senior prom, she dropped the bomb on me that she was pregnant. The timing of it was awful, I know. We had a lot of living to do, and it was way too early to start a family, but I knew I wanted that with her. It was just happening a little sooner than I had planned. Our parents weren’t too thrilled about it, but the weekend before our high school graduation, we got married. I wanted our baby to have a good life, to grow up knowing it’s loved every day. I fell in love with it the day that we went to listen to the heartbeat. I was only eighteen years old, but it’s still the most beautiful sound I’d ever heard. That was my child. I was a father.”
He swallows hard, trying to fight back emotion and choking on his words. I can’t tell if he’s sad or angry or both, but I know this is the most raw and honest I’ve ever seen him. I know he’ll eventually close right back up again, but just like his mom said, he’s split wide open.
“Makenna told me that she miscarried, Wes. I’m so sorry for both of you.”
“No,” he spits out, his words full of venom. “Don’t be sorry for her. She doesn’t deserve anyone’s pity.”
“Look, just because it didn’t work out doesn’t mean that—”
He sits up and faces me, still holding onto my hand. “Stop right there. That’s not why, Callie. I’m going to tell you something that no one else but Sarah knows, and you have to swear to me that you won’t say a word to anyone. Not Makenna. Not my family. No one.”
“I promise.”
“Callie . . . she . . . she killed my child. She told me and everyone else that she miscarried, but before she left me, she confessed that she had an abortion. Our innocent baby never even had a chance because she couldn’t stand the thought of having a life-long attachment to me. She wanted away from me bad enough that she murdered my child. I would’ve taken the baby and let her walk away, just like my mother did, but she couldn’t even stand to stay with me long enough to have the baby. That’s not something that I’m likely to forget, Callie. That’s two of the most important people in my life who walked away, who didn’t care what the consequences were. They just couldn’t stand to be a part of my life, so they both made selfish decisions, not caring what it did to me. That is why I refuse to let myself feel anything for another woman. That is why I’ll always walk away first.”
His eyes are filled with unshed tears, but mine are flowing freely. I can’t imagine being so selfish that I’d abort my own child to keep from spending my life with a guy. I definitely get it now. I understand exactly why he feels the need to run, and that knowledge makes me want to hold onto him a little tighter. His mom is right. Someone needs to chase him, to show him that running isn’t an option. And I’m not even going to mention to him that he let some information slip about his mother. That’s clearly the most raw, infected wound of all, so I’ll let him open that one up another day.
I rise up to sit on my heels, and I throw my arms around him, holding him tight until his body finally relaxes into mine. He buries his face into my neck and wraps both arms around my waist, rubbing his thumbs up and down my sides. Neither of us needs to say anything right now. There’s not anything I could say to heal that hurt, not today. And there’s not anything else he needs to say to help me understand. I’d be scared out of my mind to get close to someone, too, so maybe he’s not as big of a coward as I thought he was. He just has some deep scars and doesn’t want to get hurt like that again. It’s a defense mechanism. Survival instinct.
“I’m sorry, Wes.” I’m finally able to form those words without feeling like crying. “You’re an amazing guy, and you don’t deserve to feel that way. One of these days, someone is going to walk into your life, and if it’s the right person, you won’t be able to make them walk away from you. You just have to be willing to give them a chance to prove it to you. But I also think that you’ll know when she’s the right one. Just trust your gut.”
He takes a shaky breath. “I don’t think it can be any other way. I refuse to go through that again.”
“But tell me something.” I run my fingers through the hair at his nape. “Are you happy with your life? Are you happy spending your nights with Allison, just because you know you don’t like her enough to ever have real feelings for her? Do you really want to spend the rest of your life like this?”
He pulls back and looks at me. He didn’t ever cry, but the red rimming his eyes tells me that he came close. “I’m happier than I would be if another woman walked away from me. This is easier. Safer. And I haven’t seen Allison since my birthday. I’m done with her . . . not because I have any feelings for her, but because . . .”