Wilde by Abby Brooks
Chapter Five
Amy
A deep voice—familiar but unexpected—calls from the other side of my door. “Ames?”
“Avery?” Confused, I drag myself off the bed and pull open the door. “What on earth are you doing here? Don’t you have class in the morning?”
Seeing him is an emotional landmine and I run a trembling hand through my hair. So much for planning my future. Looks like I’ll spend the night facing my past, instead.
“Why don’t I give you two some privacy.” Dad puts a hand on my shoulder. “I need to head to bed anyway.” He disappears down the hall, leaving me with the man I never thought I’d see again.
Avery steps forward, his tall slender frame illuminated by the light spilling out of my room. “Your dad called.” He rubs the back of his neck. “He’s worried. And before you go there, don’t. He wouldn’t tell me anything about what’s been going on since you left school. He just said you’ve been acting weird the past week or so.” Avery takes my hand in his. “I know we broke up. Even if I don’t understand why. I’m still here for you though. I love you.” He brings my hand to his mouth and lightly kisses a knuckle.
For almost a year and a half, I thought he was it. Theguy. He checks all the boxes on my Mr. Wonderful list. But the simple truth is, he isn’t. I know he cares about me. And I have no doubt that our lives would always go according to plan.
And maybe all of that should be exactly what I want—but it isn’t.
Because I don’t love him. There’s no spark. No passion. He’s a measured, steady, practical guy who lives for routine. And while I know that’s what I’m supposed to want, some part of me always knew he wasn’t the one. And if I’m ever going to live my life for me—settling for less than doesn’t feel like the way to start.
I slide my hand from his. “This isn’t the way I imagined doing this.” Go figure, we’d be doing it on his terms, just like we’ve done everything else. “But I owe you an explanation.”
Avery drops into my desk chair and sighs. “An explanation would be nice…you know…before you broke up with me out of the blue and dropped out of college. But I’ll take one now if that’s all I can get.”
He has every right to be exasperated, but so do I. When I broke things off, I asked him to accept my decision and let me go. I should have known he wouldn’t respect my boundaries. The only ones that ever matter are his.
Instead of easing into the conversation, I drop my explanation like a bomb. “I found a lump in my breast.”
“Shit, Amy! Cancer? That’s what this is about?” He’s up and at my side, but I step out of his arms and turn away.
“Yes and no. The biopsy came back clean, but cancer’s what took Mom…”
“I know, baby. Why didn’t you say anything? I’d have been there in a heartbeat to help you through.”
I fold my arms across my chest and stare at the floor. “I was so scared. I got it into my head that because Mom went so young, I was destined to repeat her pattern. I took a heavy look at my life. At who I am. At what I tolerate…”
Avery recoils. “Tolerate?” His brows draw together as he spits the word back into our conversation.
“Everything I’ve ever done up to this point is a lie. To everyone, including myself. Especially to myself. I’m a people pleaser and I always have been. What others want from me matters more than what I want for myself. Even now, if I think about how disappointed someone’s going to be if I don’t do this or that—it’s freaking debilitating.”
“You’re not making sense.” Avery shakes his head and steps away, but his eyes say he knows exactly what I’m talking about. Several months ago, I started to suspect he’d figured out what made me tick…and liked me that way.
“There I was at the end of my junior year, pursuing a degree I wasn’t the least bit interested in, dating a man who considers anything spicier than black pepper extreme.” I shoot him an apologetic glance. “The idea that if it was cancer, my life story would go something like, ‘Girl spends every waking moment trying to please everyone else at the expense of exploring her own interests. Girl gets older. Repeat.’ It felt like an honest to God epiphany. When the results came back negative, it was like I’d been given a second chance. The chance to find myself before I woke up locked in a life I didn’t really choose.”
“Amy…”
He's going to try and talk me out of it. He’s going to tell me I’m being silly or irrational or some other mildly condescending thing and then try and weasel his way back into my life.
I can’t let that happen.
I don’t want it to happen.
“I’m pregnant, Avery.”
He freezes. His face goes slack. His arms drop to his sides. “Pregnant.”
“It’s not yours.” The words are so quiet, so careful, because I know they’re going to hurt. For all that Avery is or isn’t, he doesn’t deserve this.
He blinks. He shakes his head and stares at the floor.
And then he rants. Pacing. Eyes bugging out of his head. Whisper-yelling at me as he processes once and for all that we’re finally over. He doesn’t leave until four in the morning and all I had to say to him was, “I’m sorry.”
Over and over, even when I didn’t always think it was me who should be apologizing.
The growl in my belly reminds me I never had dinner as his taillights disappear into the night, but I don’t bother to feed myself before shutting out the light. I wish the conversation had gone better, but after finally getting all that off my chest, I fall into the deepest sleep I’ve had in a long time. Thoughts of Wilde with his dark hair hanging rough and tousled around his face parade through my dreams.
His shitty attitude.
His contagious grin.
His condescension.
His confidence.
“How are we going to do this?”
What a great question.