Page 14 of From West, With Regret

The truth is, I lost her before the day she lost everything.

Part of me is thankful she doesn’t remember, but it’s difficult to reconcile the feeling when her memories of me have become collateral damage to everything else.

She’s forgotten the pain.

But she’s also forgotten me.

I close my eyes and try to breathe, forcing myself to think of only the good. The beauty in the darkness. It’s difficult to shove down the scent of wet dirt, the feeling of it grating against my skin as I cradled London’s face in my hands while she sobbed, gasping for breath, and willing the pain to go away. It’s difficult to forget how my promise to her fell effortlessly from my mouth, swearing I would protect her at all costs.

Every day I live with the memory of the look in her soft, red-lined eyes as tears streaked her face, clinging onto my promise with every tight breath she brought in, believing every word I said.

Regret has owned me since failing to follow through on the one promise I made to her on the last day I ever saw that glint in her eye.

I’d sworn an oath to find her again, and now I have. I take one last look at my brother’s casket in the distance as they begin lowering it into the ground, before I walk toward Alden, who is waiting at my car.

Once I slip into the back seat, I know there’s no chance in hell I’m turning my back on the past.

Because my past is London, and fuck, I hope I don’t lose her all over again.

FIVE

LONDON

I collapse in the middle of the floor, landing on my back with my hands over my stomach. The ceiling fan blades spin in a hypnotizing rhythm as I struggle to catch my breath.

Selene falls in a heap beside me, scooting closer until her arm is pressed against mine.

My entire body aches. My calves pulsate and my thighs burn. Not to mention my skin is covered in a thick layer of sweat, making the ends of my ponytail cling to my bare shoulder.

“I could have sworn you said spin class would help me clear my mind, but I’m beginning to think you may have invited me just to torture me.” I roll my head against the hardwood, facing my sister, and crack a small smile.

Selene turns to look at me, giggling, and the sun catches her gorgeous eyes, sparkling with a happiness I don’t see on her enough.

“You’re my sister, London. I didn’t bring you to torture you. I genuinely thought it would help clear your mind. It always does for me.” She brushes her unruly blonde hair from her forehead and looks back up at the ceiling. A few stray pieces of herbangs stick to her forehead. Her face is makeup free, and her hair is in its natural state—a sight rarely seen when it comes to my sister.

“I guess after what happened at the funeral, I needed it.” I sigh.

It’s been one week since I walked away from my husband for the last time, but all I can think about is his brother West. I haven’t been able to stop this unshakeable feeling I had that entire morning like I’ve met him before.

My lower stomach fluttered when he’d marked my arm with his name and phone number. I rest my hand on my stomach and think about the faded ink now. The intensity in the agonizing seconds as he scribbled on my skin a mere ghost of a memory now. Thankfully, I wrote his number down on one of Selene’s notepads before it completely disappeared.

Fuck, what is wrong with me?

He’s my dead husband’s brother, and I only talked to him for a grand total of thirty minutes.

“I still can’t believe what happened.” Selene rolls onto her side, facing me fully as she rests her head in her hand after propping herself up on her elbow.

“What?”

“With Heath,” she says in a hushed tone. “The way his helicopter suddenly went down like that. Did they even find out what happened?”

I close my eyes. I honestly haven’t put much thought into the circumstances surrounding Heath’s death. “Something about a mechanical failure.”

“I feel sorry for the pilot in the helicopter with him. Must have been a shock to their family as well.”

“Yeah,” I agree, rolling back to face the ceiling. “I never met him, but I know him and Heath were fairly close.”

A knot twists in my chest, remembering the last thing Heathsaid to me before he walked out the door, on his way up to the roof, where his helicopter was waiting for him. I was on all fours, watching the blood spill from the palm of my hand as I tried to clean up the broken pieces of the ceramic dinner plate he’d smashed against the wall seconds earlier, narrowly missing my head.

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