Page 38 of All Your Firsts Without Me

Lucky and I spend the rest of the evening listening to my favorite song while shoveling an entire tub of ice cream down my throat. She didn’t even judge me for it.

CHAPTER EIGHTEEN

Westin

Dumb, dumb, dumb, dumb. I should have kept my mouth shut. But I couldn’t lie. It’s not in me. I had to tell her she was the reason I wroteAlone in the Dark. I couldn’t admit to writing the song and then a year from now tell her it was because of her… for her.

I meant it when I told her none of this was fine. It’s not. She shouldn’t be worried about me when she just lost him.

“Want another one?” the bartender asks.

“No thanks, I’m good.” I toss a twenty on the bar and head over to the wall of photos.

My eyes scour the wall looking for our photo. It’s gone. I know it was right here.

When my mind realizes whose photo has replaced ours, I snatch it, hastily shoving it in my pocket like a common thief.

Did she do the same with mine? I mean ours.

I’m sure she took it for David.

It’s been almost a week since I saw her. I’m nervous she isn’t going to show up at the nursing home tomorrow. I want to see her. I’ve promised myself that I’m not going to push her. She has to be the one to lead the way, at least for a little while.

I head to the library with my head hanging low. Jesus, I need an escape. Maybe a good thriller will take me away. I wave to the librarian. “Hi Sandy,” I say as I pass her desk.

“Hi Westin,” she replies back, giving me a flirty smile.

Women notice me. I mean, I’m not hideous. At least not with my clothes on. I haven’t let anyone see me without clothes since the accident. I went from an all-star athlete to this in the blink of an eye. I tried, once, the woman I was with was polite, but I could tell my deformity bothered her. So, I’d cut our evening short, she ghosted me not long after.

Feeling sorry for myself doesn’t do any good, so I shove those feelings aside. My finger runs along the spines of the books in the thriller section. In my peripheral, I notice someone pass the row I’m standing in but then they back up, pausing at the end of the isle. I step closer to the books, so they can pass me if they are wanting to peruse the same section.

“Westin?” the sweetest voice calls.

As I turn to face her, I put my hands up in front of me like I just got busted doing something illegal.

She dips her head, shaking it. “Wow,” she says under her breath.

“I promise, I didn’t know you were here,” I tell her, feeling guilty even though I have no reason to.

“I believe you.” She holds up a book. “I was on my way to the grocery store and realized I needed a book for tomorrow. Um, I saw your Jeep parked outside so I knew you were here.”

“And you came in anyway.”

She nods, her mouth turning down. “I came in anyway,” she repeats.

“Why?”

“I’ve been playing your songs over and over again. I even found myself googling you. And, against my better judgement, I created a Facebook account just to see if you were there.”

“I’m not there. Social media makes me break out in hives.”

She laughs, covering her mouth. She scoots farther down the aisle, hiding from the librarian. “Maybe that’s why I’ve been itching so much.” She pretends to scratch her arms.

“So, did you find what you were looking for?” I pull a book off the shelf, scanning the back as if I’m really reading it. I’m not. My focus is on every little movement she makes.

“No.”

When she doesn’t elaborate, I glance up at her. She is looking at me. Really looking. Like maybe she’s finally seeing me. “Well, what do you want to know? Maybe I can help.”

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