Page 35 of All Your Firsts Without Me

“But yet…” she turns away from me. “I can’t do this, Westin.”

“You don’t have to do anything. We are just two friends having lunch. April, I don’t expect anything from you.”

“Please take me back to my car.” She walks briskly towards Lucky. “Come here, girl. It’s time to go.” The dog’s ears go back, unsure of April’s sudden change in mood.

I rush around her to pull the pizza out of the oven. “April, please, let’s eat and talk. Everything is okay. You don’t need to leave.”

“He set me up,” she screams, startling Lucky. The dog runs away from her, darting into my bedroom. She stares after her. She shakes her head back and forth. “You know what? Keep the dog. Keep your songs. Keep your pizza. I’m… I’m done.”

And she’s off, I follow as she runs down to the beach, but I can’t keep up with her. I watch helplessly as she runs towards the pier. Well, that went about as good as I thought it would. Dammit, David, now what do I do? Why didn’t you write me any letters?

I go back inside, calling for Lucky. She doesn’t come out. I find her shaking under my bed. I lie on the floor and pull my phone out of my pocket, calling Giles.

When he picks up, I tell him what happened.

“What?” he bellows. “You were supposed to wait. It’s too soon, Westin.”

“I know. I know. I didn’t force it, we just kept bumping into each other. It seemed so natural. So inevitable.”

He sighs loudly. “I’ll find her.”

“I’ll wait here.”

“Now you’ll wait?” he growls angrily.

Ouch. I hang up, knowing just how much I fucked up.

I should have waited. But… it was inevitable. Wasn’t it?

CHAPTER SEVENTEEN

April

My mind races as I run through the sand, my legs starting to feel like lead. I’m so angry at David. I told him there would be no one after him. I’m so enraged I even flip the pier off as I pass by. It was one of his favorite places.

I’m panting by the time I make it home. I rush inside, leaving the door wide open. My fingers riffle through the remaining letters.

The first time you’re angry at me.

Angry is an understatement.

I take the letter and head out to the beach, falling down in the sand. I tear open the letter, trying to steady my hands and my heart.

Dearest April,

If you’re reading this, I’m assuming you’ve met Westin.

I’m just about to rip the letter in half when I catch the next sentence.

Don’t rip this up. Hear me out. First of all, this was my idea, not his. He came to me only looking to meet his muse. He didn’t have any expectations other than meeting the woman who inspired his creativity and motivated his internal strength.

You. You saved this young man. And he, by writing that song, mended your heart.

I’ve thought long and hard about this, April. I believe you and I were always meant to be. I was meant to teach you about love, about relationships. You needed me. I needed you. Each for different reasons. I gave you things he never could. But it would be selfish of me to give you those things and then keep you all to myself.

I’ve shown you how you deserve to be loved. You’re worthy of love. I know I’ve made you say it a thousand times but say it again. Scream it to the heavens. Go on, I want to hear you. You. Are. Worthy.

I roll my eyes, refusing to give in to his demand.

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