Wednesday Walks & Wags

by Melissa Storm

  A part of her wished things had gone differently between them, that he’d at least offered some kind of explanation before disappearing from her life altogether. Another much bigger part felt perfectly content with the way things had turned out. That made it easier to hate him in the aftermath.

  When nearly a week had passed without any sight of Wesley or his dogs, Bridget chanced taking a jog with Teddy. She’d liked the feeling of mastering her body, getting all the pieces to work together to move her quickly down the path—legs and heart pumping, lungs filling with air and then letting it go, letting everything go.

  And even though life was better—easier—now, she still missed that sense of calming control that came with putting her full attention on something so simple, so primal for a half hour each day.

  She and Teddy ran the more scenic route down the forest trails and beneath the vibrant green canopy. Rather than luxuriating in the beauty this time, Bridget felt as if the thick plant life were closing in on them, suffocating them. It probably didn’t help that after two weeks without a single cardio session, she’d jumped straight back onto the more difficult route.

  The worst part, though, was the fact that Wesley had somehow stayed with her through all of it. She tried to focus on her heart rate, to take in the scenery, to count her footfalls—anything to keep her mind off her missing partner.

  But it did no good.

  As much as she’d once enjoyed it, running had become inexorably tied to him. This was the thing that had first brought them together, the way they’d spent most of their time in each other’s company.

  Did that mean that she hadn’t ever loved the running itself but rather the time spent at his side?

  Ridiculous.

  She craved the endorphin rush, the glowing feeling of accomplishment that followed. Not the man who had misled her from the very moment they’d first said hello.

  Yes, later she’d been seduced by the cooking and home visits, the adorable plush version of Teddy, which she’d shoved beside her mother’s box under the bathroom sink with the other keepsakes she couldn’t bear to look at but also couldn’t bring herself to throw away.

  They’d begun to build something bigger, but only just.

  And now she had more important things to think about. Soon her college courses would start back up, but even before that, she had the charity race in a week and Hazel and Keith’s wedding a week after that. Unable to choose between her three dearest friends, Hazel had asked Bridget, Amy, and Nichole all to serve as joint maids of honor—and Bridget had the hideous burnt sienna dress to prove it.

  Still, she was happy for her friend, even while feeling a bit of jealousy as well. Bridget hadn’t wanted a relationship until one had found her all on its own. Maybe she could open her heart to a man once her life settled down again after the wedding and the fundraiser and the start of school.

  Maybe she was meant to live out the rest of her days with only friends, family, and a couple dozen rescue pets to fill her days and her heart. Bridget pictured herself with a husband and three squalling children, stepping into the role her mother had lived so effortlessly. She pictured Dr. Kate, married to her career and happy that way. Would Bridget wind up like one of them? What other options were there, really?

  Life didn’t have to be crazy. It could be simple, honest . . . lonely.

  She tightened her grip on Teddy’s leash and pushed her feet harder against the pavement, springing herself forward faster. By the time they returned the courtyard, tears had drenched her cheeks. She hadn’t even realized when they’d begun to fall, and she didn’t know what exactly had caused them.

  Were they restorative or the result of finally giving up?

  She didn’t know that, either.

  She knew only that she needed to keep pressing forward one day at a time, and she would.

  Chapter 35

  The big charity race arrived on a muggy Saturday morning that August. Without those extra two weeks of harried planning, the event would have ended up rather underwhelming. But thanks to the extra time and lots of help from her friends and family, Bridget had managed to pull off something truly spectacular.

  It was early yet, but already the crowd outside the shelter surged with excitement as runners of all ages checked in and did a final round of pre-race stretches. If even a quarter of them adopted a pet afterward, all of the animals inside would have new homes by the end of the day. Bridget knew not to get her hopes up when it came to making a clean sweep. The extra money that had begun to come in from the fundraiser and the adoptions that were sure to follow already marked the charity race as a huge success.

  Hazel had taken the lead on gathering the business sponsors and designing an enormous banner to mark the start and finish line for the racers. Amy took care of the refreshments while Nichole mapped out the racetrack and placed markers strategically to keep everyone on the path.

  Her father and Caleb recruited runners and walkers by hanging up flyers anywhere and everywhere they could get permission and by running a social media campaign to spread awareness. Yes, her father had adorably opened his Facebook account to help spread the word to his twenty-three friends there and to post news of the race in local interest groups.

  This left Bridget to oversee all the finer details, including how they would get guests in to visit the animals and possibly add a new member to the family while they were at it.

  “Big morning.” David, the head of the board, power walked over to Bridget in teeny-tiny shorts that left very little to the imagination and forced her to keep her eyes carefully averted.

  She smiled warmly, fixing her eyes on a spot over David’s shoulder rather than on the dark hair that dotted his exposed thighs. “I can’t believe how many people turned up on such short notice.”

  “I can,” he said with a huge smile that she caught out of the corner of her eye. “You’re a magic worker, Bridget Moore.”

  “Anything for the animals,” she said before Nichole grabbed her by the elbow and pulled her to the side.

  “Wesley’s here,” she hissed into Bridget’s ear. “Do you want me to tell him to get lost?”

  Bridget followed Nichole’s gaze until it landed on the newest arrival—a tall, lanky man with strong legs and white-blond hair. His eyes found hers, and for a moment it seemed as if everything around them fell away, as if no time had passed at all since that morning spent cooking together in his kitchen. But time had labored on, things had changed irreversibly.

  He was here, but he was no longer her Wesley. He’d become a stranger—had always been one, now that she thought about it.

  Then Nichole yanked on her arm again. “Well?”

  “If he paid the fee, then he’s welcome to run just like anyone else,” she answered, forcing herself to look away from his intense gaze.

  “You’re far more forgiving than I’d be,” Nichole grumbled, then headed off, presumably to share Bridget’s decision with the others.

  As soon as Nichole had gone, Wesley made his way over to Bridget. He looked the same as he always had, his eyes a warm, changeable blue like the sea rather than cold and dangerous. She still couldn’t believe he’d committed a violent crime against a woman. Only the worst kinds of monsters did such things—at least that’s what she had believed until recently.

  Could Wesley still be good even though he’d done a bad thing?

  She wished she knew, but the more she thought about it, the more muddled her opinions became.

  He chanced a smile, his lips formed a circle, and she could tell he was ready to speak. Whether to offer an explanation or an apology, she didn’t know. She also didn’t want to find out.

  This wasn’t the right time. She had an event to oversee.

  “Is everything okay?” Caleb asked after she’d charged up to him. As much as she hated herself for reverting to gender stereotypes, she felt safer with a man to keep her company rather than one of her female friends.

  She wrapped her arms around herself in a
hug. “Everything’s good. I’m fine.”

  He tipped his chin in Wesley’s direction. “Who’s blondie over there?”

  “Just someone I used to know.”

  His eyes narrowed as he regarded Wesley. “An exboyfriend—got it.”

  “No,” she said, feeling a surge of sorrow in that instant. “We never got that far.”

  While Caleb waxed on about what he’d do to any guy that ever hurt his little sister, what he was willing to do today if she gave the word, Bridget mindlessly tapped around on her phone.

  “Oh, it’s time!” she cried. “I need to give the signal to start.”

  “Are you running?” her brother asked, leaning into a deep calf stretch.

  “Yes, she is,” Amy answered for her as she appeared out of nowhere. She held a megaphone that had been bedazzled with dozens of sparkly heart and animal stickers.

  “Runners, take your places!” she cried way too close to Bridget’s ear for comfort, then lowered the megaphone and pushed a bottle of water into Bridget’s chest. “You’re running. It’ll be a good outlet for you.”

  “But I’m supposed to—”

  “Already got it handled,” she said, clicking the button on the handle of the megaphone demonstratively.

  Caleb clapped a heavy hand on Bridget’s shoulder, exchanging a conspiratorial smile with Amy. “Great. You’re with me then, kid.”

  Bridget stared at both of them questioningly. It had never been in her plan to run, but obviously her happy helpers had gotten together behind her back to make a different decision.

  “I’d get ready if I were you,” Amy said sweetly before striding back to the position of honor right beside the line that marked both the start and the finish of their race.

  “On your marks!” she cried.

  Bridget twisted the cap from her water bottle and took a quick sip. Well, this was really happening. She’d never run without a dog at her side. She felt naked—vulnerable—without Teddy or Baby or Rosco.

  “Get set!”

  She searched the starting line until she found Wesley a few spots away.

  “Go!”

  She took off like a shot, running faster than she ever had.

  Amy and Caleb were right. She needed this.

  Chapter 36

  Bridget pumped her legs hard. The wind whipped the end of her ponytail against her cheek, but she brushed it aside and kept going full speed ahead. Even though she hadn’t planned on running the race herself, she’d still worn sneakers and workout clothes as if somehow she’d known she would end up doing just that.

  She followed the course laid out by Nichole, taking the first turn to the right—well ahead of most of the other runners, who were taking the race at a more leisurely pace. How nice it felt having a path that was already decided, to know that no matter the outcome, she’d done something good by organizing the race to support the shelter. If only the rest of her life could be like that....

  From Bridget’s side, a familiar pale blur approached, then fell into step beside her.

  Wesley.

  “Are you finally going to talk to me?” she asked with a bitter laugh that drained her lungs, forcing her to slow her pace for the first time since Amy shouted go. She kept her eyes glued on the path, willing Wesley to pull ahead. He could run so much faster than she. He’d proven it many times.

  “Because this really isn’t a good time,” she added with a slight growl when he refused to leave her side.

  “I think it’s the perfect time.” Wesley wasn’t winded in the slightest, which meant no matter how much faster she tried to go, he’d easily be able to keep up. That left her with two choices—turn back or listen to what he had to say.

  Foolishly, perhaps, she chose the latter.

  Bridget took another sip from her water bottle, then said, “You’ve got until the finish line. Speak.”

  She didn’t look at him, only listened to his words over the sound of her wildly pumping heart. “I was wrong not to tell you,” he began.

  Bridget snorted in agreement. It had taken him long enough to realize that.

  “It’s not even that I didn’t get the chance. You gave me so many openings. I’m sorry I didn’t take them.” His voice remained smooth, unlabored but not unfeeling.

  “Why didn’t you?” She chanced a look at him and found his expression to be soft, open. He wouldn’t talk to her before, so why now?

  Wesley licked his lips and continued. “I like you so much, Bridget. I tried not to, but the more I got to know you . . . It’s stupid. I just didn’t want to lose you, and I didn’t want the way you look at me to change. Everyone else judges me based on my past. They never even get to know me before they decide to write me off altogether. But you, you kept coming back even when I was rude. You wanted something, so you made it happen, no matter what I did to try to stop you. I admire that so much.” He said this last part with strange emphasis, almost as if he’d wanted to say something else but stopped himself before the words could make their debut.

  “I don’t know what you want me to say. You lied, kept a huge secret. If you like and admire me so much, why didn’t you tell me and let me decide?” Maybe she was being unfair, but she’d have gone much easier on him if he’d come to her sooner. Time had only added to the sting of his betrayal. Did he know how much he’d hurt her? Had he been hurting, too?

  He shook his head and stumbled slightly off course. “I know. I know. It’s what I should have done, but I guess I’m a bit slow on the uptake. I haven’t been out that long, and I’m still learning how to navigate this new life of mine.”

  “That’s no excuse,” she said stonily. This conversation would be so much easier if they focused only on the talking, but Wesley seemed to need the distraction of the race to open up to her at last.

  They left the pavement and headed down a dirt trail that ran along the edge of the forest. The sun shone brightly overhead, beaming down on them as if it, too, wanted to be a part of their conversation. This felt far too familiar, far too comfortable. It would be so easy to fall back into their old patterns, but easy usually didn’t mean right.

  Bridget took another long pull from her water bottle, draining half of it in one go.

  Wesley remained quiet, contemplative, for a couple minutes before finally speaking again. “I’m not here to make excuses. I came to apologize. Do you think you could ever forgive me?”

  “I don’t know,” Bridget answered honestly. “I still don’t know what you did, whether you’re sorry for it, if I’m safe with you, or whether you’ll keep big things from me again.”

  In short, she couldn’t trust him. She’d found herself falling for him, trusting, maybe even beginning to love, but then the most fundamental requirement for a relationship had been torn right out from under her.

  Without trust, could there be anything else?

  “You’re right,” Wesley said, then exhaled deeply.

  She turned toward him with a curious expression. Sometimes it felt as if he were right there inside Bridget’s head with her.

  “I shouldn’t have kept such an important part of who I am from you, but I’m here now and ready to share. Just tell me what you would like to know. If you decide there’s a way forward for us, I’ll be so happy. If not, then I’ll take it as a lesson learned. I like you so much, Bridget, but that doesn’t mean you need to like me.”

  “Right now I don’t like you very much,” she admitted, and it was true. It was also not exactly true. Stupid feelings. “But I’ll think about everything once I know everything. I can’t make a decision with only part of the picture.”

  Wesley gulped hard. “You want to know what I did.”

  “I need to know.” And in that moment, she knew he’d finally tell her. She only hoped she could live with the answer.

  Chapter 37

  The forest portion of the track ended, dumping them back onto the asphalt. Not a single cloud hung in the sky, allowing the sun to blaze directly onto the uncovered portions of
Bridget’s skin. Sweat beaded at her brow but merely threatened to fall rather than actually doing it. She’d finished her water now, and the heat had begun to wear on her.

  Still, Bridget couldn’t feel any sore or aching muscles. She didn’t feel her lungs begging for oxygen, either. The only things that really mattered were Wesley and the words he was about to speak. She’d keep pressing forward. It’s what she did, what she’d always done.

  Wesley’s normal pallor had been overtaken by a new pink, the sunburn forming right before her eyes as he struggled to explain the unexplainable. Because if it was easy, wouldn’t he have shared this part of himself with her long ago?

  “I’m not making excuses. Prison did change me,” he said by way of an opening. “It made me rougher, more guarded, quicker to anger. Maybe I am dangerous as a result of having spent time there, though I would never hurt you, Bridget. I hope you believe me about that, even if you don’t trust another word I say.”

  She nodded, not wanting to interrupt now that the moment of truth had finally arrived. Would she feel different once he’d revealed his past to her? Could his honesty now possibly be enough to make up for the fact that he’d hidden the truth from her for weeks and then disappeared from her life rather than so much as even attempting an explanation?

  Not until today.

  He ran an arm over his forehead to wipe the sweat from his hairline. “My best friend growing up was named Jon. My parents always worried he was a bad influence on me, but that didn’t stop me from spending every free moment at his side. We got into all kinds of trouble as kids, but never anything serious.”

  Another pair of runners passed by them, and Wesley quieted until they were alone again.

  “After we graduated, I went to college and he stayed home, supposedly working for his dad’s construction business, though I doubt he ever worked an honest day in his life. I came back for Thanksgiving break my sophomore year, and Jon asked me to drive him to the gas station to pick up some snacks for the all-night gaming marathon we had planned.”