Page 73 of You Had Me At Thirteen

‘No, I won’t. It’s not fair… none of it. It’s all fucked.’

‘What’s not fair?’

He covers my mouth. ‘Sleep.’

I stare at him but say nothing else. I don’t know what he’s talking about, and he’ll likely forget tomorrow, anyway. But I watch him, his face softening with each breath, his eyes closing again.

With each second that passes, I find myself wanting to reach out and run my fingers through his hair, over his eyebrows, over his cheeks. His lips. Those lips that damage my heart every time he kisses me, or tells me to leave. But I don’t. Instead, I imagine doing it. I imagine the feel of his mouth under my fingertips, against my lips, my skin.

When his breathing settles into a slow, steady rhythm, I roll over and plant my feet onto the carpet. I grab my slippers and tiptoe over to the door before taking another look behind me. Wren has rolled onto his side and is hugging the pillow, one leg thrown over it.

My heart races in my chest. Fuck. I’m in trouble.

When I’ve freed myself from Wren’s orb of gravity, I tiptoe down the stairs, making it to the bottom without another sound from him. Except his mum is in the kitchen, a mug of something hot in front of her.

‘Sorry, Deb,’ I say. ‘I hope I didn’t wake you.’

Her smile is soft. ‘It’s fine, sweetheart. I couldn’t sleep, anyway.’ She glances up the stairs. ‘Is he okay?’

I shake my head. ‘Not really.’

Her shoulders sag before she brings the mug to her lips in her shaking hands. ‘The medication isn’t working,’ she says so matter-of-factly that I take a moment to comprehend what that means.

‘Oh God, I’m so sorry.’

‘It’s fine. I’m tired, you know? I’m ready to go, but that boy of mine can’t seem to wrap his head around the fact that I’m dying.’

All I can do is nod. I get it. I can’t imagine how hard it must be to go through something like cancer. It must be exhausting, for both Deb and Wren. My heart breaks for them both, each for different reasons. If Wren would just let me help him…

‘I called Wren with the news earlier tonight. It’s my fault he’s like this.’ A tear slips down her cheek before she wipes it away and takes another long sip from her mug.

When she places the mug back on the table, I take one of her hands, giving it a quick squeeze. ‘This is not your fault. He’ll be fine. I’m sure he just needs time to process everything.’

She’s quiet for a moment, before she blinks at me. ‘You should get home, sweetheart. It’s late. Your mum will be worried.’

‘Of course,’ I say, giving her a hug. ‘Goodnight.’

‘Goodnight… and thank you.’ She gives me a small smile before I head for the door.

Once I’m in the safety of my room, I sit at the window seat. Wren’s sleeping body is just visible with the moonlight streaming into his bedroom, and he hasn’t moved from the position I left him in.

Whatever that was tonight, he was a different person than the one I’ve come to know over the last couple of weeks. I can’t fathom what he’s going through, but he’s determined to do it all on his own.

My eyes grow heavy, so I make my way into my bed and cover myself up. I’m not sure how much I can handle, this back and forth. But whatever keeps pulling me to him, I don’t want it to go away. For whatever reason, I’m allowing Wren too much of my soul, and I’m not sure I can stop him from taking all of it.

THIRTY

Wren

* * *

Asoft knock on my bedroom door, followed by my dad’s voice, interrupts my thoughts. I groan but drag myself to the door, swinging it open to find he looks like shit.

Good.

But it’s his cheap aftershave that has my stomach churning. He’s gone so much these days, I sometimes forget he exists. If I could choose amnesia just to forget about him permanently, I’d seriously consider it. Even if it means forgetting Matilda. Hate doesn’t even touch the sides of my feelings for the sperm donor standing in front of me.

‘Jesus, Wren, what happened to you?’ he says as he steps forward, a hand out to touch my face.

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