Page 75 of Forever Always

“I had a job that kept me away for a while, and I had to stop the search. When I came back, I finally found you.”

“How?” I asked, the first words I’d spoken since he’d begun.

He smiled sheepishly. “I have some connections. Eventually, I found your enrollment record in the community college.”

I should probably be pissed he was so invasive, but it kinda made me feel good. Like, I felt wanted that he put so much effort into locating me. I was sure that screamed of some kinda abandonment or daddy issues, but whatever. Never claimed not to be fucked up.

Once Wesley finally finished, a heavy silence fell between us. Becks said something, but I didn’t know what. He was still holding my hand, though. I had a hard time processing my thoughts, but instead of shutting down and hiding under a snarky comment, I decided to be honest. Fuck, when had I become so mature?

“I—” I swallowed. “I think I might need some time to process all that. I understand, and I’m not mad or anything. But it’s a lot. I’m sorry.”

“You don’t need to apologize, butterfly,” Becks finally added gruffly.

Wesley’s eyes assessed Beckett, but then he turned to me. “He’s right. You have nothing to apologize for. And take all the time you need. You have my number. You can reach out to me whenever you’re ready. If you’re ready.”

I nodded, grateful he wasn’t making a big deal about it. After that, we shifted the conversation to lighter stuff. Sorta. Wesley asked about our childhood, though I had a feeling he knew more than he was letting on. We kept it super vague, just brushing on it, and spoke mostly about each other. I was sure he had questions about Michael and my and Becks’s relationship, but he didn’t ask and I was grateful. Becks told a couple stories about Mom. Then I told him about my two semesters of college that I’d managed to take and how we were savin’ up for me to go back. We talked about Jay and how I loved to cook when I was stressed.

Wesley talked about his weakness for banana bread and his obsession with Norwegian death metal. He also mentioned a Luca about 50 times, causing both Becks and me to give each other looks. He kept calling him a coworker, but no one talked about a coworker that much, and I had questions.

But we were not in a place to ask those yet. Eventually, I was exhausted, and Becks could see I had reached my limit. I gave Wesley my number after he told us that he’d be in South America for at least three weeks. He couldn’t tell us anything else, but that he was making an effort to keep me in the loop mattered. He said he’d have spotty service, but if we texted him or left him an email, which he gave us the info for, he’d see it eventually.

When it was time to leave, we all stood by the entrance, but I was little unsure on what to do next. Did I shake his hand? Wave? Fuck, why was this so weird?

“Can I hug you, Riley? You can tell me no,” Wesley finally asked.

Shit, could he hug me? I was low-key terrified I’d panic once his arms were around me. As much as I craved Becks’s touch, and even Jay’s cuddles made me happy, having a complete stranger do it, even if his sperm was a part of giving me life, did not sit well with me.

I felt terrible telling him that though. It wasn’t his fault we were in this spot. It was his stupid parents, of which he’d informed us he barely spoke to his dad now. I could give him a hug, right? It was such a small thing.

Beckett’s arms wrapped around me. “I’m sorry, Wes. I think this was a lot for him. Maybe next time?”

There might’ve been a flash of hurt in Wesley’s eyes, but he schooled it quickly. “Of course. I’m sorry I asked.” He shifted like he was about to leave but then stopped and looked me square in the eye. “I mean it, Riley. There is no pressure for anything. You have no obligation to try and have a relationship with me. You don’t even need to talk to me. But, if you ever do decide you want to, I will always be here. There’s no time limit or deadline. I will always want a chance to get to know you, and if either of you need anything, you know how to find me.”

I was still tryin’ to process that when Wesley said goodbye to Becks and then walked out, turnin’ in the opposite direction from where we were parked. I leaned against Becks, no longer able to stand up on my own. That went better than I ever expected, but I was still exhausted.

As much as I’d resented the car on the way here, I was grateful for it goin’ home. I could just relax, close my eyes, and process everything in a way I couldn’t when I was out in public and had to keep my guard up.

I wasn’t paying attention as we got to the truck and just started to shuffle to the passenger seat, but Becks stopped me.

“Hang on, butterfly.” His voice sounded off, enough so that I started to pay attention. Beckett’s eyes were on a thick manila envelope that was shoved in the windshield wiper on the front window.

“W-what is that?” I asked, unable to keep the hitch out of my voice.

“I don’t know.”

Beckett grabbed the envelope, looking all around the lot to see who could have put it on the car, but there was no one around.

“Stay close to me, Ri.” For once I didn’t argue and came right next to him.

Becks was just staring at the envelope, and I thought we were both a little unsure what to do with it. “Should we open it?” I finally got the words to ask.

Beckett shrugged but still ripped the envelope open. He pulled out a white piece of paper.

“No. No. No.” It fell to the ground, completely forgotten as he dug into the envelope.

I grabbed the paper off the ground to read it.

I couldn’t fuckin’ breathe. No, this wasn’t happening. This had to be some kind of sick joke.

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