Page 17 of All I Want is You


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I look around confused. “What time is it?”

“It’s seven thirty. I messaged saying that Sully called an emergency meeting, so I was stuck in the hotel space. I’m assuming you didn’t eat without me?”

“No. I thought it was still six. I clearly fell asleep waiting for you. I do have dinner though. I think it’ll still be good. I got us food from that Jamaican Asian place we wanted to try but haven’t been able to make it over there.”

“You drove across town in rush hour for that?”

“Yeah. I put on your favorite dress too.”

He kneels down at my feet, setting his bag down. “And your hair… you look beautiful, and this table. You went to a lot of trouble for me. God, I feel like a dick.”

His smile could make me forgive him most anything. “You’re not a dick. I want you to sit down, get comfortable. Let me go get the plates out of the warmer.”

“Hayley, you really don’t have to serve me, especially after I’m late as fuck.”

I kiss his cheek before I pad off to the kitchen. “That’s what tonight is supposed to be about. I want to do this. Please let me. Do you want red or white wine? I bought both.”

“Red. Please. I need something that’s going to hit.”

“Why? Was it a bad day?”

“Well, not bad, just a lot. Hayles, I have to go on the road for a couple of weeks.”

I’m glad I’m around the corner so he can’t see my face. My head hangs down as my hands drop to the counter. Don’t get upset. This is his job. Support him. I repeat these things in rapid fire so I can speak again. “A couple of weeks? That sucks. Why so long?”

“It’s draft stuff. There are a couple of contracts that are going to need me to be in the room where it happens, you know? Trust me, I don’t like it any more than I think you will.”

I take a deep breath and return with our plates and a bottle of wine tucked in the bend of my arm. “This is your job. You have to go out on the road. It’s a big part of it. Do I wish you were staying here or that the trip wasn’t so long? Of course I do. I’ll be fine. I will.”

“Are you saying that for my benefit or yours?” He takes the wine bottle from my arm and begins to pour for both of us.

“Let’s go with ours.” I sit down next to him on the floor. “When will you leave?”

“In three days. I have enough time to get things sorted and then I have to go. I don’t want you to stay here alone. Spend time with your friends. Go hang with Jack and Lil.”

“Don’t worry about me. I’ll be fine.”

“That’s the second time you’ve said that.”

“I can handle you being gone. I can. I’ll make sure the place is taken care of. Is Hannah’s friend back? Maybe me getting to meet her is coming at a great time. I know she won’t know me well, but if she needs anything I can help when you’re not here.”

“Um, yeah. About that.” He sets the wine bottle down before he finishes. “I called her on the way home and she wants to wait until I get back. I think it was a lot of pressure to be like, it has to be tomorrow.”

“Pressure for her? Really? Wes, she’s not the ex-wife here. I’m the one who has things to lose.”

“Whoa, whoa, whoa. Hold on. You’re not going to lose anything. I’m not going to leave you for her. It’s not like that with us. It never was.”

“Then why? Tell me why this is being made into a big damn deal. It’s coffee or tea or whatever she’s allowed to drink to be like hey, this is my girlfriend and hey, this is the mother of my child.”

I drop my fork on to my plate and storm off to the bedroom. I’m glad the balcony doors are still open. I need the breeze in my face. I can feel the anger linger inside me as well as the twist in my belly. I slide down the open door frame to the floor and tuck my legs underneath me.

Wes does the right thing. He not only comes to find me, but also gives me a few minutes before he does. I can sense him standing for a long time in the doorway of our room. I think he’s reading it. Good luck because I don’t even know what it’s saying.

“I put your food back in the warmer so it doesn’t get funky.”

“Thanks. I’m not really hungry anymore. I’ll just use it for my lunch tomorrow.”

He slides his hands in his pockets as he walks over to me. I feel so small when I’m sitting at his feet. “I don’t like it when we argue.”

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