Page 135 of Back to Willow

MyeyesflutterasI slip back into consciousness.

For the first time in years, there is a lightness inside, just like a balloon filled with helium that floats carelessly through the sky. That’s the effect Willow has on me. She will always influence my mood.

I love her.And the fact that we fucking said it at the same, just like the first time we confessed our true feelings for each other, is just too much of a coincidence for my heart.

Last night was the best night of my life.

I stretch my left arm to wrap it around her waist and snuggle, but my eyes snap open at the realisation that the spot next to me is empty.

“Lo?”Did she leave?

Looking around my bedroom, wondering if her things are still scattered around my bedroom or picked up. I notice her overnight bag by the door and her jeans neatly folded on the black imperial concubine, close to my walk-in closet.

She’s still here.

My conclusions are confirmed when I hear some mischievous giggling outside. The sound is ethereal, waking my foggy brain right away and making it way easier to get out of bed. First, I put some boxers on—Dylan’s awake, too.

I probably need a shower, but to be honest, I don’t want to wash away what happened last night. It’s ridiculous, but there’s a part of me that is insanely holding on to it, afraid she’ll slip through my fingersagain.

Once my feet step into the bathroom, the doorbell rings, and I freeze.Who the fuck is it?

They wouldn’t appear uninvited, right?

I only snap out of my inner thoughts when I hear rushed footsteps and a frantic Willow calling after him to not open the door, but it’s too late.

The clicking of the lock sounds, and Dylan greets whoever it is cheerfully, “Hello, who are you?”

Shit!

I hurriedly knot my shorts’ strings that were hanging on the back of the door and run outside. When I reach them, I stop in my tracks.

It’s deadly silent with my parents gaping at a dishevelled Willow in just a baggy T-shirt of mine and a curious Dylan, tilting his head at them. My heart thrashes inside, echoing through my ears.

“Well, well,” my father tuts. “This is quite a surprise.”

Willow gasps, hastily grabbing Dylan’s arm.

“What?” another male voice hear speaks, but I ignore it, focusing on Willow’s abnormal stance.

With her breath hitching, she stumbles back until a soft thud sounds from her back hitting the wall.

What’s happening?

I step between her and my family, not even sparing them a glance and ask, “Lo, what’s wrong?”

“Mummy, breathe.”

My hands hover over her, but I stop myself as her breaths turn shallow, one hand pressing Dylan hard against her and the other clutching her throat so tight I doubt she can even breathe.

“Ahh, fuck!” someone curses, but I’m so focused on the woman panicking in front of me that I tune it out.

“No, no. Please, no,” she chants over and over again with tears in her eyes, looking straight through me into the dark void that’s taking over her brain.

“Baby?” I turn to her, reaching for her shoulders.

She recoils, and I retract my hand right away.

“Willow? Baby?” I call.

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