Her mother’s box.
“Oh, shoot. Let me help you with that.” Amy raced over and lifted the box before Bridget could stop her. “Hmm. This is way lighter than I thought it would be. What’s in here?”
Bridget hopped to her feet and yanked her mother’s box away from Amy before she could shake it up and down again. Nothing inside was breakable, and yet . . .
“Sorry,” Amy said, her cheeks red.
“It’s fine. Just best not to bounce it.” She left Amy in her room while she searched the apartment for a better place to stash the box. On the floor of the closet, her dogs would be able to get to it. And if she put it back at the top of her closet, Amy might go looking for it—or it could fall down again. The last thing she needed was to be forced to go through the contents because of an unintended spill.
Finally, Bridget made a place for the box under the bathroom sink by pushing the jumble of lotions, soaps, and hair supplies to the very back of the cabinet. She even grabbed a garbage bag from the kitchen and carefully draped it over the box to ensure that no damage would come to it.
Back in her room, Amy sat on the bed waiting with tears in her eyes. “I’m sorry, B!”
Bridget was just about to apologize for overreacting, but then Amy wailed again.
“I shouldn’t have teased you so much or pushed you toward Wesley. It’s just that day when you came to visit, I could tell how much you liked him, even though you weren’t saying it. I thought you were like me and Trent, but I was wrong. So very wrong.”
“It’s not your fault,” she said, finding it odd that she needed to comfort her friend when she was the one who had been wronged. “If it weren’t for you and Trent, I still wouldn’t know who he really is.”
Amy sniffed and nodded. “So you forgive me?”
“I was never mad to begin with. At least not at you.” Truth be told, Bridget still didn’t know exactly how she felt since learning the truth about Wesley’s past. She wished she could ask him about it directly, but she’d also made a promise to Trent that she’d stay away.
What confused her most of all, though, was why Wesley had changed his mind about her. He’d kept her at a distance for weeks until suddenly it seemed he would do anything it took to close the gap. She’d enjoyed their time together—even crushed on him a little—but why would he allow her to get close if he knew what would eventually happen?
Unless he’d planned to keep his criminal past a secret from her forever.
As it was, she still didn’t know what he’d done. She’d also never seen anything in him that suggested violent tendencies. When he was upset, he backed away, forcing his emotions inside rather than flying forward in rage.
Which begged the question: Could Trent be mistaken?
No, that wasn’t possible, either. Wesley had recognized him, too. He’d run away and asked not to be judged because of whatever Trent decided to share with her.
But hadn’t Wesley already judged her and deemed her unworthy of hearing his secret? Or if not unworthy, at least incapable of understanding?
She hadn’t asked for any of this. In fact, she’d tried hard to avoid it. She’d been perfectly content as Wesley’s running partner. He was the one who had pushed for more.
This was all his fault. He’d forced his way into her confidence but hadn’t let her into his. He’d done whatever it was that landed him in prison, and he’d run away from her rather than confront the truth.
His fault, yes. Now she was angry.
And even as she tried to convince herself that she’d be better off without him, she couldn’t help but feel that niggling sense of doubt poking at her heart. She’d expected so much more from Wesley, so much more from herself.
It was like she hadn’t learned anything at all.
Chapter 29
A night of chick flicks and junk food helped to keep Bridget’s anger at bay. As soon as she returned to normal life the next day, however, that same immense feeling of betrayal returned. She could hardly focus on making friendly small talk with pet owners as her job required. Dr. Kate shot her meaningful glances throughout the day, but luckily Bridget managed to escape the clinic without having to either confide in or lie to her boss.
She wanted to believe that she could push Wesley from her mind and move forward as if he’d never entered her life at all. But she also knew herself better than that. Memories piled up in her heart like the calories from mint chocolate chip ice cream on her hips.
By the time six o’clock rolled around, she’d made up her mind.
Closure, that’s what she needed.
After all, Wesley owed her at least that much.
She left her dogs at home and made her way out to the courtyard. As expected, Wesley appeared a moment later, with Beau and Snow trailing him on their leashes. He wore a bulky pair of headphones and kept his eyes straight ahead, not once flicking them toward Bridget.
“Hey!” She charged after him, refusing to let him escape without acknowledging her. He owed her so much, and yet he couldn’t muster up basic good manners? Regardless of their history, she was still a human being and she deserved his respect, if nothing else.
“Hey!” she called again, louder this time.
Wesley stepped to the side and continued down the path. He still wouldn’t raise his eyes to meet hers.
No, you don’t get to erase me from my own life!
Every bit of anger, confusion, and hurt she’d stockpiled since Trent’s big reveal bubbled to the surface at once, and Bridget shoved Wesley hard from behind.
He stumbled forward, then spun toward her, yanking his headphones down so they sat on his neck like a collar. “What do you want, Bridget?” Despite the jerkiness of his movements, his voice came out cold, fluid.
Bridget laughed sarcastically. “What do you mean what do I want? I’d think it would be very obvious.”
He sighed and shook his head, pulled his headphones back on.
She ripped them away and hurled them to the ground. “How about an explanation, or at least an apology?”
Snow, who had always been friendly with Bridget, lowered his head and emitted a low, defensive growl.
Wesley jerked the leash to silence him. “I’m not going to apologize for my past. What’s the point? There’s no changing it. And there’s obviously no changing your mind about it, either.”
“But you’re not even trying,” she exploded, crossing her arms over herself, partially in defense and partially to avoid shoving him again. “You have no idea how I feel or what I think about all this.”
He glowered at her. “Don’t I? Because this thing we’re doing here”—he motioned between the two of them rapidly—“that makes it pretty clear.”
“You’re the one who hid things from me. You’re the one who lied.”
“I never lied.” He said each word slowly and then clenched his jaw and narrowed his eyes at her, showing her the first glimpse of the criminal she still couldn’t believe he’d been.
She stooped down and picked up his headphones, but kept them tight in her fist. “You never told me the truth, either. You let Trent do it for you. What are you so afraid of, huh?”
“I don’t have time for this,” he hissed, and turned away from her once again.
Bridget grabbed at his wrist and missed. “No wonder you didn’t want to be friends. You’re not capable of it. Are you?” she shouted as his pace quickened, as he and the arctic dogs raced away from her. “Hey, you forgot your headphones!”
Even that wasn’t enough to keep him, not enough to make him fight for their friendship. Had he ever really cared about her at all? It didn’t feel that way now.
Where was the man who’d patiently taught her how to make Indian food the day before? Where was the running partner who altered his pace to match hers but never once made her feel bad about needing to go slow? What about the neighbor who had brought her soup when her sorrows had prevented her from joining him in the courtyard?
Bridget’s tears came ho
t and fast. None of those versions of him had been real. This was the real Wesley, the one before her now, the one running away rather than trusting her with the truth. She didn’t matter to him, probably never had.
“You’re a bad person, Wesley Wright,” she screamed, just as he and his dogs reached the corner. “The worst kind of person, and it’s not because of your past, but because of this, what you’re doing right now.”
She tossed his headphones on the bench seat and dragged herself back to the apartment.
She hated Wesley for doing this to her.
She hated herself for letting someone else in when she knew better.
That was her life now, keeping new people out and hoping the ones she’d already let in wouldn’t suddenly fall sick or change into unrecognizable monsters.
Teddy licked at her tears. His little pink tongue tickled as he frantically lapped the saltwater tracks from her cheeks.
People would always let her down, because that’s what people did. Even her father, brothers, friends would find ways to hurt her. She knew that, and she also knew that she would forgive them when it happened.
Wesley, though, he didn’t want her forgiveness. He didn’t want any part of her at all. So then why did her heart yearn for him even now?
Chapter 30
A loud, consistent banging from the other side of Bridget’s door made the keys on the hook beside it jangle. She checked the time on her microwave clock. Eight P.M.
It had been two hours since she’d confronted Wesley in the courtyard. Two hours since she’d decided to lose herself in a Netflix binge, to immerse herself in the characters’ problems in the hopes of forgetting hers. And now her problems had turned up at her front door. She knew it couldn’t be Wesley, and she really didn’t feel like talking to anyone else.
“What do you want?” she shouted at whomever was on the other side of that door.
The visitor continued to pound on the wood, but she hardly heard it over the ruckus of her dogs’ excited barking. If it really was Wesley waiting on the other side, would the three of them jump to her defense? They didn’t even know what had happened or why there would be no more running. Poor things.
She groaned and pulled herself off the couch.
Hazel stood with her fist raised, ready to knock again. When she saw Bridget, she lowered her hand and flexed it. “About time,” she grumbled. “I swear my knuckles are about to rip open from all that knocking.”
“What are you doing here?”
“You weren’t answering your phone, so here I am.” Hazel squeezed past Bridget into the apartment and made her way straight to the kitchen.
“It must have been on silent,” Bridget said, clicking the door shut behind her friend and making sure to activate both locks before heading over to join Hazel in the kitchen.
“I brought more ice cream, just in case you were out, and I see that was the right call.” Hazel placed a fresh container of mint chocolate chip—this time Häagen-Dazs—in Bridget’s hands with a smile. These past couple days, Bridget had practically eaten her body weight in her favorite minty green ice cream, and apparently that would continue, thanks to Hazel.
“What are we watching?” Hazel said, plopping down onto the couch and unpausing Bridget’s show.
“Um, don’t you have a wedding to be planning?” Bridget tried. She just wanted to be alone. Why couldn’t her friends respect that?
Hazel shrugged. “I do, but I’m taking a night off to make sure you’re okay.”
“No need. As you can see, I’m just fine.”
Her friend laughed sarcastically. “Now I know you couldn’t possibly believe that. Come sit, eat some ice cream, and tell me what’s on your mind. By the way, today’s my shift, but tomorrow, you’re stuck with Nichole.”
Bridget groaned. She didn’t want to appear unappreciative, but she also didn’t feel the need to talk about her feelings when there was nothing she could do about them until Wesley finally deigned to talk to her. “Why do you guys need to take shifts? Why do you even need to be here at all?”
“Because you’re our best friend and you’ve been through a lot and we worry, so come take a load off and tell big sis Hazel how we can make it better.”
Bridget rolled her eyes but finally settled back onto the couch.
Hazel pulled her knees up to her chest and turned toward Bridget, her eyes wide. “So, tell me, how’s work?” Apparently, they were going to dance around the reason Hazel had come, the reason Amy had stayed last night and Nichole would be here tomorrow.
“Work is fine. Busy. The usual.”
“And how’s the shelter?”
“Fine. Busier than usual.” Uh-oh. She should not have said that. Hazel was far too good at picking up details to let that one go by.
Sure enough, her friend leaned forward, her eyes wide. “Oh, why?”
“I may have gotten volunteered to lead another big event, and it’s in less than three weeks now.”
Hazel gasped and leaned closer. “What? Why didn’t you tell us?”
“I didn’t want you to feel obligated to help.” Bridget looked away, heat rushing to her cheeks as she remembered that she had more than one big problem weighing on her right now.
“Girl, you know we’re happy to help! How far into it are you?”
Bridget chewed her lip as she considered whether it would do any good to lie about the situation. It wouldn’t. “Well, I have an idea, but that’s about it.”
Hazel pretended to faint dead against the couch. “Oh my, then it’s a good thing I’m here. Should I call the others over, too?”
“No, no, no. I’ve got this.” That at least wasn’t a lie, because one way or another, Bridget would handle the situation.
Hazel liked to be the one who handled things, though, especially where her friends were concerned. “Like heck you do! We’re obviously all pitching in to help, so tell me what I can do.”
“Tonight, can you just be my friend?” Bridget asked glumly.
“Oh, my sweet B.” Hazel crawled toward her and gave her a warm hug. “I always am, no matter what. You must feel so awful after everything that happened with Wesley, but just know that you can always trust me and the girls. Keith and Trent, too.”
“I know that,” Bridget mumbled into her friend’s hair. “It’s still hard. It’s hard on the dogs, too. They were so disappointed when we didn’t go running tonight.”
“Can’t you still go running without him?”
She shook her head gently. “I could, but it would be weird. It would be like being with him without, you know, being with him.”
“Hey, wait a sec.” Hazel pulled back, her eyes glowing with whatever new idea had sparked in her brain. “When you chose this apartment, you told us there was a weekly walking club for the residents and their dogs. Why don’t you do that instead? It might be nice to meet other neighbors.”
“That’s a good idea, except the club closed down. The woman who ran it bought a house and moved away. And no one wanted to step up to be the new leader.” Bridget knew, because she’d asked the landlord right after she signed her lease. It had been a huge selling point for her when choosing this apartment, and yet the group didn’t even exist any longer.
Hazel didn’t seem bothered by this problem. She probably already had a solution for it. She smiled wide and asked, “How about you? This kind of thing is right in your wheelhouse.”
Of course.
“Remember how I have less than three measly weeks to plan a huge fundraiser for the shelter?” Bridget had let herself forget as she struggled to make sense of the Wesley situation, and that just wasn’t fair to the animals. She needed to stop worrying about her own messed-up life and focus on the cats and dogs who needed her attention so much more.
Hazel’s smile faltered and her eyes narrowed as she went into battle mode. “Oh, yeah. You need to ask for more time.”
“I can’t do—”
“You want it to be successful, right? No harm in askin
g for more time. And while you do that, I’m calling in reinforcements.”
Chapter 31
Nichole and Amy turned up at Bridget’s apartment about half an hour later. They both brought ice cream, too.
“We got your SOS. What’s up?” Nichole asked after she’d stormed inside and swept through the apartment to make sure no one was severely injured.
Hazel motioned toward Bridget with a dramatic flourish. “Bridget has to put on another big event for the shelter and has about two and a half weeks to plan it from start to finish.”
“B! Are you serious? Didn’t you learn anything from the last time?” Nichole demanded, already diving into her oversized bag to pull out her favorite notebook and get to work making one of her infamous lists.
Hazel placed a hand on Bridget’s shoulder in a show of support. “She wasn’t the one to volunteer this time. Someone else did that for her.”
Amy actually looked hurt by this revelation. “How long have you known, and why didn’t you come to us sooner?”
Bridget felt as if she’d been sent to the principal’s office because another student had been caught cheating from her test. Yes, this was bad, but it also wasn’t her fault. Still, she couldn’t quite meet Amy’s eyes, either. “A couple days ago, and I didn’t want to bother you guys. I thought—”
“You thought wrong,” Nichole said with a scowl. “Tell us how we can help.” She flipped to a fresh page of her notebook and held her pen at the ready.
Hazel seamlessly took command of the situation. “She wants to do a charity race, like with sponsors and donations per mile.”
“What about the adoptions?” Amy wanted to know.
Everyone looked to Bridget.
Her voice shook before growing stronger. “I thought we could have the race start and end outside the shelter and even bring out some of the friendlier dogs to interact with those waiting for loved ones to run.”
“Sounds good so far. Let’s make a list of everything we need to make this happen.” Hazel pulled out her phone and opened the notes app, but Nichole pushed her hand down.
Wednesday Walks & Wags Page 11
