I fucking hate the sight of him. One of these days, I’m going to break his jaw.
Another step closer to her. “Every Wednesday, Friday, and Saturday you come here. When the kids arrive, you laugh. Though I can’t hear it because I am always far away, always across the street, always outside looking in.”
There’s disbelief in her eyes, on her face, along with something that doubles up my hope. Yearning.
My confession is a balm to her. She likes it. She likes the fact that I’ve been watching her.
She always loved that. Being watched by me. I was so ashamed of it, tracking her movements, searching for her, knowing her habits, her quirks.
But she loves it. And I love her.
I love her with every goddamn piece of my heart, my soul.
I reach her and cup her cheeks again, tilting her neck up. “And today I was praying, hoping, fucking dying for a chance that you’d show up. I didn’t want to believe it when Beth told me that she’d invited you. I was mad at her. I told her that she should leave you alone. She should let you live your life, but on the inside, I wanted you to come. I wanted one chance, Willow. Some indication that you can still stand the sight of me. That you can still stand to be close to me after I broke your heart.”
Her breaths are choppy, her mouth parted and I wish I could kiss it. I wish I could bend down right now and put my mouth on her, taste her lemon flavor, lick her softness. Bite it. Make it mine.
But I can’t. Not yet. Maybe not ever.
Christ. I don’t know what I would do if it really turned out to be not ever.
“Willow –"
She speaks over me, “I knew about Claire. Before I came today I asked Renn. She told me about the rumors, about the lawsuit, everything. She told me not to go. She told me that you’d broken me enough. I don’t need any more grief from you. You know why I showed up?”
“Why?”
“Because I thought you’d be alone. And because I didn’t believe a word they said about you and Claire. I’m stupid, aren’t I?”
My grip flexes on her cheek, trembles, like my heart, my fucking body. She doesn’t believe the rumors. She doesn’t believe any of it.
“You’re fucking breathtaking.”
She peers up at me through her lashes and warmth stirs in my gut. “What would you have done, if I hadn’t shown up?”
“I would’ve kept coming back. I would’ve kept watching you. I would’ve kept watching you fight and live, and you would’ve kept inspiring me to do the same. And maybe, one day I would’ve gathered enough courage to come talk to you.”
She shakes her head, sighing. “That was the hardest day after I got out. The beach. I didn’t want to get up. I didn’t even want to open my eyes. I was missing you so much and everything else just piled on from there. Renn told me I had to. In fact, all three of them came into my room, dragged me out, put me in the shower. They reminded me that I have to live. Because every day I live, I win.”
They are right. Every day she lives, she fights, she wins.
She stares down at her tattoo, caressing her wrist. “Two Ws mean Warrior Willow. I thought I’d make a play on Weird Willow and really get a tattoo. So I did.”
She throws me a wobbly smile, and I rub my thumbs around her mouth, hoping to soak that smile in. “They were assholes. They don’t know what the fuck life is all about. I’m going to find them and I’m going to break every bone in their body. I’m going to…”
I trail off when she touches my chest. My tattoo, to be exact. She chases away the chill from the winter and the rain with only a flick of her fingers on me.
“You’re not going to do anything,” she says, and I try not to think about how my heart fucking leaps, trying to bust out of my chest and touch her.
“What if I’d gotten a princess or something?”
“Then I’d have a princess on my chest.”
For the first time today, I see her smile reach her eyes. “You’re crazy.”
“Yes.”
“And a pervert stalker.”
“Yes. That too.”
“Do you know what else it means? Two Ws?”
My Adam’s apple bobs. “No.”
“Two Ms. When I read it upside down on my wrist, which let’s face it, I do several times a day.” She gives me her eyes. “It means medicine man.”
I cover her hand with mine and press it against my chest, trying to imprint her touch on my flesh. “Give me a chance, Willow. Just one.”
“Why?”
“So I can make it right. So I can do what I should’ve done that day. I should’ve taken back my words and I should’ve told you that I loved you. That you’ve been right all along. Let me make it right, please.”