Bridget’s heart dropped as she realized where Wesley’s story was headed. No wonder he’s so scared to let me in.
Wesley bobbed his head as if answering a question she had not asked. “He never told me he planned to rob the place. I didn’t even know he had a gun. I just sat there waiting outside the door like an idiot until Jon jumped in through the passenger door and told me to drive. He had a gun in one hand and the money in the other. Said he needed some extra cash to make Christmas happen this year. I think I may have heard the shot but wrote it off as a car backfiring. I never would have imagined . . .” His words trailed off. A haunted look overtook his eyes.
“That’s awful,” Bridget mumbled. She wanted to comfort him, to protect him from his painful past—but it was too late. He’d already had to live with the outcome for years. It had changed the entire course of his life. She realized that now.
Wesley huffed and pumped his arms, taking a moment to focus on the run instead of his painful past.
“Then what happened?” she asked, scarcely above a whisper.
Wesley groaned. “Then of course he got caught, since his face was all over the security footage. I was there when he was arrested, when they told us that the clerk he’d shot was in critical condition at the local hospital. I felt so ashamed for ever having known him, for considering him a brother when he was capable of something so dark.”
One thing still didn’t make sense to Bridget. “How did you get involved, though?”
“I drove the getaway car,” he said with a sad laugh. “And Jon wasted no time turning me in so that he could get a lighter sentence for himself. They had my plates, anyway, but Jon’s testimony was what really sealed the case against me. He said I’d helped him plan the entire thing from start to finish, that I knew what was coming the whole time.”
“But you had no idea.” It wasn’t a question. She’d known even before he’d told her about Jon today. Just by Wesley’s willingness to share the truth, Bridget had understood his innocence. He’d made bad choices, but he hadn’t hurt anyone, other than himself—and then, much later, her.
He was trying to make amends now, to secure her forgiveness. But could she give it?
Wesley inhaled sharply and risked a glance her way. “I had no idea, but the fact remained, I drove that car. I could’ve pushed him out and sped off without him, but I didn’t. I took him back to his house, made an excuse, and left. I was sick to my stomach with fear, guilt, shame, the entire time, but I did it, and in that way I am guilty. I deserved what I got.”
Bridget didn’t know what to say, so she simply nodded and waited to see if Wesley would share more. Had he finished? And if he had, what did he expect from her now that he’d told her everything?
Too much of her brain was focused on propelling her body quickly toward the finish line, too much was thinking ahead to the activities that would happen after. She wanted to give Wesley her full attention, to have an answer for him now, but she just couldn’t.
“Anyway,” he said after a long pause. “Now you know.”
He’d left her to wonder for weeks before finally turning up to explain himself. And now that it was her turn to speak, she, too, needed more time.... She hoped he’d be able to understand that.
Chapter 38
Despite their strong start, neither Bridget nor Wesley was among the top finishers for their group. Even so, her friends greeted her at the finish line with hugs, snacks, and a chorus line of well dones.
No one stood waiting for Wesley.
Bridget watched him return to his car while her loved ones prattled on. He didn’t have anyone. His first great friend had betrayed him in almost the worst possible way, and he’d worked hard to keep others out since then. Wesley had let Bridget in, but only so far.
No wonder he was scared.
No wonder he hadn’t wanted to reveal his sordid past and risk losing her so early in their relationship.
She hadn’t liked what he’d done, but she also couldn’t hold it against him. Not anymore.
Everyone laughed at something her father said, and Bridget joined in, too. She never took her eyes off Wesley, though—not until he came back, carrying a small slip of paper with him.
“Here’s my donation for the shelter,” he said with a determined smile as he placed the thin envelope in her hands. “You know everything now. I don’t deserve your forgiveness, and I don’t expect it, either, but at least you know.”
He left without another word.
Why did everything have to happen so fast all of a sudden? She needed time to process the new information, her new feelings.
“What was that all about?” Nichole asked, staring daggers after him.
“He apologized and told me the truth.” She softened as she watched Wesley walk away from her the second time in the space of just a few minutes.
“Yeah, a bit late for that,” Hazel added with a sarcastic snort.
“Are you okay?” Amy asked, her eyes searching Bridget’s.
“I will be,” she answered, knowing that one way or another, she would be. Wesley had given her the greatest gift of all—honesty—and it would lead to either a fresh beginning for them or closure for Bridget. The question was, Which did she crave more?
“Just forget about him,” Hazel said. “This event was a huge success. I’ve already seen a few adoption applications come in, too!”
“That’s great.” Bridget hated that she had to force enthusiasm into her voice, but she was still in shock from Wesley’s big revelation. If he’d just told her up-front, she could have easily forgiven him his past. After all, she understood being backed into a corner by someone you trusted—but the fact that he hadn’t shared still made her wonder how much of his tale was true and how much of it had been recast to make him appear in a more favorable light. She couldn’t picture him shooting anyone, but had he really not known Jon’s plan?
She fingered the envelope in her hands. What was he doing making a donation, anyway? Her one visit to his apartment had made it readily apparent that he had very little and even less to spare. Could he really afford a gift to the charity? They’d already surpassed their fundraising goal. They didn’t need it. She could return the check uncashed, not just to save him the expense but also to make sure he knew that her forgiveness couldn’t be bought.
Her decision solidified when she finally opened the envelope and found a check for $2,500 waiting inside. The large sum burned hot in her hands. She couldn’t accept this and would need to give it back. As soon as the event ended, she’d march straight up to his apartment and tell him that this was not okay.
“Bridget!” David cried, walking toward her while clapping slowly. He’d put on a pair of track pants since she’d last seen him, which made it easier for her to meet his eyes now. “Marvelous job! Brava!”
“Thanks,” she responded shyly, tucking back a stray tendril that had worked itself loose from her ponytail. “It really was a team effort.”
He tsked at her, but his enormous smile remained. “But you’re the secret weapon. It seems you never run out of new ideas to help the animals here.”
She felt a hot flush rise to her cheeks. “Oh, thank you. That means a lot.” And it did. She loved helping the shelter, helping the animals, so why couldn’t she focus on that? Why did her mind stay with Wesley even after he’d left?
David nodded, then glanced over his shoulder before turning back to Bridget. “Well, I’ll let you get back to your friends. I have an important meeting to make, but I’ll call you soon to wrap things up.”
“Okay, bye!”
“He’s kind of cute,” Nichole said as the friends watched him walk away.
“Also really old and really married,” Bridget said, barely containing her disgust. Today she’d seen way more of the committee head than she’d ever be able to erase from her brain. To think Nichole might actually want to see more? Barf.
“Hey, I was just looking. It’s not like I even want a man in my life.”
“You don’t know what you’re missing,” Hazel chimed in, flashing her magnificent engagement ring around.
“I’ve got to agree with Hazel on this one,” Amy said with an apologetic shrug.
Nichole looped an arm around Bridget’s shoulders. “You two enjoy becoming 1950s housewives. Meanwhile Bridget and I will keep on having fun and living our best lives.”
Bridget laughed and agreed heartily, but inside she knew something had changed. Wesley had made her realize how much more she could still add to her life without losing any of the things that already mattered.
And no matter what happened next, she’d forever be grateful to him.
Chapter 39
After the race, the girls took Bridget out for lunch at a steakhouse to celebrate the event’s huge success. Insisted on paying, too.
“How does it feel now that it’s over?” Amy asked after everyone had toasted to Bridget.
“Like I’ll probably have another one to plan very soon,” she said with a sly smile.
“If that’s true, then we might as well start now!” Nichole shouted.
“Hear, hear! This last-minute stuff is killing us,” Hazel cried, and they all toasted again.
Bridget enjoyed the extra time with her friends, even though she knew she’d be seeing them all again tomorrow for the Sunday Potluck Club. They never skipped a week, no matter what else they had going on in their lives, and she liked that.
It was nice to know that this thing that had become so important to her was important to them, too. In a way, that’s what she loved best, knowing she wasn’t alone. No matter how hectic life got the other six days of the week, it would always slow to a crawl on Sundays.
Tragedy had brought them together, but their strength kept them that way. It would have been so easy for any one of them to give up after losing the important people in their lives to cancer, but none of them had yet. Whenever one of the friends faltered, the others were there to help her up, to lend a hand, a shoulder.
Bridget had offered help just as often as she’d received it, and that kept her strong, too. Knowing she could make a difference, that she could still be of use to the people she loved meant that much more when her own world was spinning too fast on its axis.
She’d had a rough summer, but she’d also survived it. Now they just had Hazel and Keith’s wedding to close out the season, and it would be back to school for Bridget, back to the way life had been before her mother’s final bout with sickness, before she’d lost something so important.
Bridget wasn’t the same person she’d been before, but maybe that was okay. She’d grown, learned more about herself than she’d ever dared to ask—and even though she hadn’t quite figured out what she wanted to do about her relationship with Wesley, she knew it would come to her when she was ready.
Some things took too long. Others didn’t last quite long enough. And sometimes it sucked, sometimes it hurt, but always it was okay.
Everything in its own time.
Because that’s life.
When finally Bridget returned home that day, her dogs tackled her at the door, slathering kisses all over her arms and face. She spent a solid half hour or more wrestling with the two big dogs and playing tug with the Pomeranian, who was small of stature but big in attitude.
“C’mon, Teddy,” she said, when she knew she couldn’t delay her visit to Wesley any longer. The little dog panted merrily while she clipped the leash to his collar and they headed out the door.
She’d been to his apartment only once but remembered exactly where it was located at the base of the building’s north staircase opposite the courtyard.
What would she say when she saw him? She still didn’t know for sure but hoped the right words would come to her when she needed them.
She knocked and waited.
When Wesley didn’t answer, she knocked again.
Beau and Snow didn’t howl, as they had when she’d visited before. Did this mean they’d gone out? Or was he there but intentionally avoiding her now that he’d said his piece? Did he even want her forgiveness?
Now she wasn’t so sure.
She knocked again, but that same eerie silence greeted her.
Wesley had given her his number, but her message was one she needed to deliver in person rather than over the phone.
She knocked one final time, and at last the door swung open.
“Hi. How can I help you?” asked a youngish woman wearing loose pajamas as she looked Bridget up and down suspiciously.
“Is Wesley here?” Bridget asked, trying to look around her. Wow, despite how sorry he’d claimed to be, he’d sure moved on fast. She hadn’t even known he’d been dating, so it was especially surprising that he was living with someone. Could it be platonic? This young woman certainly didn’t look like a relative.
“Who’s Wesley?” the woman asked, scrunching up her features in confusion.
Bridget wrung her hands around the leash. “Um, he lives here.”
“Oh!” The girl laughed and bent to pet Teddy. “He’s the one who lived here before I moved in. Do you know him? I have some of his mail.”
“What? He moved out?” This hadn’t been what Bridget had expected, but it sure explained a lot.
“Well, I haven’t seen him around,” she said with a giggle, then stuck her hand out toward Bridget. “Hi, I’m Hailey. Are you one of my new neighbors?”
Bridget smiled even though what she really wanted to do was to run away screaming. Where was Wesley, and why had he left without saying goodbye?
She shook her head and forced herself to focus on the woman standing before her. “I’m Bridget. I live upstairs. Welcome to the building. How long have you been here?”
“Oh, about two weeks now. It’s so nice to finally meet some of the neighbors,” Hailey continued, flipping her sandy hair out of her face. “The brochures and website went on and on about how friendly and community based this place is, but you’re the first one I’ve actually met.”
Bridget smiled and reached into her pocket for her phone. “Then let me give you my number in case you ever need anything.”
Hailey sighed with noticeable relief, then flashed a gigantic smile. “Oh, that’s so nice. Come in. Come in!”
As the door closed behind Bridget, she felt as if something important had come to an end. Hailey seemed nice enough, but she wasn’t Wesley.
Would never be Wesley.
Suddenly, Bridget knew the answer she’d been searching for all that day. She needed Wesley in her life. She’d always needed him.
Now she just had to find him and pray he felt the same way.
Chapter 40
Bridget returned to her apartment carrying the small bundle of Wesley’s mail Hailey had entrusted to her. She still had his donation check, too. Even though Bridget preferred not to call, it seemed she had no other choice if she wanted to get in touch with him.
And she definitely wanted to.
After taking a deep, measured breath, Bridget leaned against the kitchen counter with a glass of water in one hand and her phone in the other. She hadn’t actually ever called him before—not once—a fact that felt strange given how much time they’d once spent together.
When she called his number now, it delivered her straight to voice mail. She tried again and received a notice that the voice mail box was full. She texted and received a return message that the feature has been disabled on the account.
Darn it!
What now?
If she’d known the race would be her last chance to see him, she would have shared her feelings with him right then and there. She would have told him how confused she felt but then she’d have pushed through it and made a decision, anyway.
But she hadn’t done that.
Instead, she’d let him walk right out of her life. Again.
* * *
“You miss him. Don’t you?” Amy asked at their get-together
the following day. The Potluck Club was meeting at Amy’s that week, which meant she had no trouble pulling Bridget away from the others to speak with her privately.
Bridget shook her head and tried to arrange her features into a neutral mask. “I told Trent I’d stay away, so that’s what I’m doing.”
“Did Wesley talk to you at the event yesterday?” Amy wanted to know.
Bridget began to argue but then realized something wasn’t quite right with this conversation. She kept the assurances she’d planned to offer her friend locked up tight inside and instead asked, “Wait, did you know he was going to do that?”
Amy bit her lip and nodded. “Yes. I mean, maybe. Just don’t be mad, okay? I can tell how much you miss him, and it’s kind of my fault things ended the way they did.”
“You’re not the one who sent him to jail or made him lie about it to me.” Bridget wished she could tell Amy everything, but Wesley’s secrets weren’t hers to share. Even if she never saw him again, she’d respect that.
“Yeah, but I didn’t help that confrontation between him and Trent, either. Trent couldn’t remember what exactly he was in for, just that a woman had been attacked. When he checked, he found out that Wesley was charged as an accomplice in an armed robbery. Not as the actual guy who committed it, but as the getaway driver.”
“Yeah, Wesley told me that.” Hot tears pricked Bridget’s eyes, but she couldn’t let herself cry. If she did, Amy wouldn’t let her get away without a long heart-to-heart, and the only heart Bridget needed to hear from right now was Wesley’s.
“Does it change how you feel?” her friend asked softly.
“I don’t know how I feel.” A necessary lie.
“I do. I’ve known since you first mentioned running with him. I shouldn’t have teased you so much about having a crush.”
“A crush? Is that what it was?” Being with Wesley had felt like so much more. Calling it a crush relegated it to the halls of a middle school—a silly little thing. Crush didn’t speak to how deep their feelings for each other had run beneath the surface. Of course, she felt crushed now that it was over.... Or was it?
Wednesday Walks & Wags Page 14