Page 126 of Love Marks

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It’s a struggle to drag myself out of bed the next morning. Despite my newfound resolve, I’m exhausted. The past few weeks have been a nightmare, one that I feel like I’m only starting to wake up from. The last thing I want to do is meet Rita’s friend for my job interview, but I promised her I would, so I go.

On the train ride, I try to think of a plan for reaching out to Wesley again. Just the thought of seeing him brings a fresh wave of fear to the surface, but I breathe through it, telling myself that I’m strong enough, that I can do this.

It’s a warm, rainy day. The walk from the subway to the address Rita gave me isn’t long, but when I arrive, I have to check my notes three times to make sure I’m at the right place. The building in front of me is empty, with a For Rent sign hanging in the window.

I glance around, confused, but nobody pays me any attention. Pressing my face against the glass, I try to peer inside, but all I see is the empty space. I lean against the wall and take out my phone, dialing Rita’s number. She answers with a little too much pep in her voice.

“Rita? I’m here, but I think you gave me the wrong address. It’s an empty building.”

“Yep! There’s a key in the mailbox. Just let yourself in.”

“But—”

Before I can say anything else, she hangs up. I shake my head and stuff my phone in my pocket, confused. What kind of job interview is this?

Suppressing an eye roll, I search in the mailbox and find the key. I slip it into the lock and turn, letting myself into the empty building. It’s a narrow space, with a bar on the left side and some corner booths left over from what must have once been a restaurant.

I’m about to call Rita again when a figure pops out from behind the bar, causing a scream to erupt from my lips. I press a hand against my chest, steadying my breath, unable to open my eyes.

Wesley.

This isn’t happening.

He can’t be here. Why is he here?

A breathless laugh escapes me. “Jesus Christ. You scared me.”

It’s quiet for a moment before Wes speaks, a slight smile in his voice.

“Sorry. Not my best opening. I was supposed to say ‘Welcome, can I take your order?’ Or something. I can’t really remember now. You weren’t supposed to scream.”

My eyes open and I take him in. He’s behind the bar, leaning on his forearms. His sleeves are rolled up, exposing his bare arms and I swear I feel my knees go weak at the sight of him. When I finally let my eyes wander to his face, his gaze is locked onto me, his eyes blazing with an intensity that causes my heart to lurch.

He looks better than the last time I saw him. More…alive. Is he doing better without me? I guess I just assumed he’s been suffering as much as I have these last few weeks, but what if he’s here to tell me he’s moved on?

I shake my head, feeling suddenly exhausted and very, very nervous. “What are you doing here?”

A small smile plays on his lips. “Isn’t it obvious? I’m winning you back.”

My jaw practically unhinges itself. The gears in my head are malfunctioning, I think, because I can’t seem to form a single thought. I step backwards, stumbling a little, and he takes a step towards me, his face turning serious.

“Don’t leave until I’ve said my piece. Okay? I’ll sit all the way over there if you want me to.” He points to the only remaining bar stool at the counter. “Or you know what? You sit. You sit and I’ll stand.”

I roll my eyes. Where did this fumbling, nervous version of Wesley suddenly come from? Where’s the brooding billionaire I’ve come to know and—

“Here.” Wesley guides me over to the empty stool and sits me down at the counter. “Sit.”

He steps back from me, running his hand through his hair, and looks towards the window. “This really is not going how Ben said it would.”

I wait expectantly, taking him in. My heart aches at the sight of him. His nervous smile, the way his fingers are palming his thighs. Watching him, hope swells within me. He said he wants me back.

It’s not too late.

“Shit. I’m messing this up.” He shakes his head and runs his hands through his hair again.

My heart stutters again and I want so badly to reach towards him, to ease his nerves somehow. Instead, I look around and try for a less intense subject.