Page 58 of Full Circle

Did it make me the worst kind of person if I admitted I was too selfish to let him go? I wasn’t far enough gone in my misery not to recognize how unhealthy my addiction to Wesley had become. I was just as bad as Rose in Titanic; I knew Wesley needed to climb on the stupid door to survive with me, but I just couldn’t make myself move over. It was sick and selfish, and my mama would have boxed my ears. You know you’re in trouble when a death scene is the closest analogy to the current state of your life.

But how could I stop?

CHAPTER 25

UNDER THE SEA

WESLEY

Too excited to contain myself, I woke Celeste up at the crack of dawn the next morning. I was bouncing like a puppy, desperate to execute my plan without my father intervening while also simultaneously allowing Celeste to have another special day. It killed me to see her break down like she had yesterday and now all I could focus on was how to remind her to live. I needed her more than I needed air to breathe, so if she was gonna go on another downward spiral, I wouldn’t be far behind.

She blinked wearily at me as I shook her awake and laid on my most charming smile. Immediately, she drew back, eyeing me critically with one eyebrow arched. “What did you do this time?” Celeste asked.

Her insightfulness made me laugh. “Don’t be mad, but I have something special planned.”

Celeste rolled her eyes and threw the covers off. “Every time you tell me not to be mad, I end up being mad.”

“Not this time. This time I nailed it.”

Her eyebrow rose again.

“Just trust me, Lovebug.” I grinned at her, confident about my plan since Mr. Hendricks texted me he was feeling better this morning. That had to be a good sign.

After we both showered (Celeste wouldn’t let me shower with her), we found Mrs. Aguilar in the kitchen with a big breakfast spread on the island. I had asked her to cook us breakfast, but this seemed a little overboard. She grimaced at me when I sat down.

Before I could ask why, I heard the brisk taps of my father’s dress shoes thundering down the hall.

Fuck, I thought.

He rounded the corner, two women in skintight, skimpy dresses following. They barely looked older than me. It took everything in me not to roll my eyes. He must have foregone his bachelor pad a few blocks away that he thought I didn’t know about. Both women smiled seductively at me as they rounded the island to sit on my other side and grabbed plates. As if I would ever be tempted by my father’s sloppy seconds.

My father, however, shot me a look of pure loathing. “What are you doing here?” he demanded.

“Technically I still live here,” I reminded him sarcastically.

“Not you,” Benedict replied. “Her.” His gaze zeroed in on Celeste.

She blinked at him, eyes wide and alarmed, before glancing at me. It sickened me how she withered under his scrutiny.

“Obviously Celeste is here with me, Benny,” I goaded him. “She is my girlfriend.”

The dangerous way his eyes narrowed should have alerted me that I was now in bed with a shark, but his mere existence was enough to piss me off. I wasn’t gonna back down at this point.

“She is not welcome here, Wesley. Get her out of my sight.”

My hackles rose. The fucking prick was hardly ever here. Celeste had slept in our penthouse more in the last six months than my father had in the past three years. As far as I was concerned, she was far more welcome here than he was, and I suspected Mrs. Aguilar would agree with me if asked.

If it weren’t for my desire to give Celeste the surprise later today, I would have taken my anger out on his jaw again. Pure love was the only reason I was able to grind my teeth together and keep my true thoughts in my head. Without breaking my furious glare, I stood up and grabbed Celeste by the elbow so we could leave. Her eyes were still wide and scared, uncomfortable with the exchange.

“I won’t forget this, Wesley,” came my father’s hard voice just as we reached the door.

“Neither will I,” I shot back over my shoulder. From the corner of my eye, I saw Celeste shudder at the venom in my tone.

The ride to the hospital was as tense as a mistress at a vow renewal. Neither of us said a word, though mine was mostly due to the temper that continued to spike. The more I thought over that asshole’s words, the more infuriated I became. He acted as if Celeste was dog shit under his shoe, unworthy to be in his precious penthouse, when the exact opposite was true. If he was on fire, I wouldn’t summon the saliva to spit on him. Sadly, though, I knew without that I was going to pay for the whole thing somehow. Even if those women were high end escorts (which was a huge possibility), Benedict Madden III was not the kind of man to let go of a grudge.

Celeste’s silence could have been due to any number of things. Hopefully by now she had learned that my father’s shitty manners and pompous attitude had nothing to do with her, but I strongly suspected she was taking all of his words to heart. Nothing I said could ever get through to her that his opinion was worthless at best and that I didn’t give a flying fart in space what came out of his mouth. Celeste had noble dreams of us reconciling at some point in the distant future, which was a direct reflection of her love and kindness. While admirable, her visions were also a complete fantasy. I had no reason or intention of reconciling with anything he had done. Some people were simply rooted in evil, and no amount of patience, understanding, or compassion could change that.

Mr. Hendricks was sitting upright in a clean robe when we arrived. It looked like he had a fresh shave, his beard now trim and tidy, and his hair had been cut. The whole effect made him look ten years younger and much healthier than he had in a long time. Celeste and I both brightened at the change, the urge to smile too great to ignore. She happily threw herself into his arms and beamed.

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