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Liza Morris
"Go away!" Liza screamed in a strangled stranger's voice, "I swear to God, if you try to force yourself in here again I'll call the cops, and they won't care who you are!"
It was like a nightmare she couldn't wake up from, the sound of knocking on her door for the third time that night. If she could have cast a spell and made her door invisible to the outside world, she would have done it in a heartbeat. Even if it meant never being able to get out again, she would have done it, just to get a little bit of peace. Her face felt puffy and swollen from all of the crying she had done. The couch pillow beneath the spot where she had been curled up for the last hour was soaked through, and she felt one hell of a headache coming on. All she wanted to do was be left alone with her grief. She wanted to muddle through her confusion, her humiliation, and maybe someday, if she was very lucky, see herself to the other side of it all. Instead, there was this knocking, again with the knocking, as if Megan hadn't done a good enough job of ripping her apart already.
“It’s not who you think it is, Liza. I’m not here to hurt you. You can call the cops if you want to but I’m not going anywhere.”
"Wesley?" she asked, dragging herself up to a sitting position and staring at the wooden slab keeping her safe from the outside world. It was a nice idea, but she didn't believe it. Wesley couldn't be at her door, not when he was off somewhere with Megan doing God only knew what. She hated herself a little for even dreaming something like this up. It was pathetic, wanting a man who didn't want her back. She had never been that girl before, and she didn't want to become her now.
"I know you're upset, honey, believe me. I'm not too thrilled myself, but you don't have all of the facts. Will you please just let me in? Let me tell you what's going on, and if you want to kick me out after that I'll go, no questions asked."
She walked to the door like a zombie. For the third time she walked to the door, and when she opened it a crack, she saw that it was him. Her heart wanted to do somersaults in her chest except that it was too late. Whatever he was here for, it wasn't for her. Maybe he just couldn't stand the idea of being the bad guy after everything. Perhaps he was only there for her to absolve him of his sins, give him her fucking blessing, even. It was true that he looked sad enough, but looks could be deceiving. If anyone should know that it was her.
"What are you doing here? Your girlfriend already did your dirty work for you," she said in greeting. Her voice sounded dead, and that was good. It matched the way she felt on the inside. Instead of answering Wesley grabbed her by the hand and led her to the couch. Once the two of them were sitting side by side, he took her face in his hands and forced her to look him in the eyes. God, those eyes, those eyes that made it so hard for her to breathe. He deserved some kind of academy award for how genuine his eyes looked now because everything inside of her wanted to believe him. She wanted to believe him, and she hadn't even heard what he had to say yet.
"I saw her, okay? After you hung up the phone, I saw Megan."
"Oh, awesome. What a wonderful start to a conversation," she said, actually laughing out loud. She tried to look away, but he turned her face back towards him, leaning in close enough that she could smell the spice and liquor on his breath.
"Just listen, okay? I didn't go looking for her. She found me. It wasn't that hard; I'm a creature of habit. I like to go to the same bar, especially when I'm upset."
"What in the hell did you have to be upset about?" she spit, her head hit with a bright flash of anger, "As far as I can tell, you got everything you wanted. I guess I did, too. I got my money, right? Now I can add high-class hooker to my resume."
“Stop it, Liza, that’s not what you are. And I didn’t get what I wanted. I didn’t get shit.”
“Except for the model girlfriend,” Liza shot back bitterly. “Don’t forget that. You don’t have to explain it, Wesley. We weren’t ever actually together. I’m just an idiot who got too caught up.”
“I was upset about you,” he said quietly, letting his hand drop. She wanted to grab them in her own and put them back in place. She wanted to slap him and tell him to get the hell out. She didn’t know what she wanted, except to hear him explain what exactly he was dancing around.
“If you have something you want to say, something that makes some sense, go ahead and say it. Otherwise, go away and leave me alone. I don’t think I can take much more of this shit.”
"Just that I love you. That's all I wanted to say. I started to feel it in Austin, with you lying in bed next to me. I knew it when you stood up to my mother. I love you, and I'm a fucking idiot for not saying it earlier. It might not mean anything now, but I wanted to say it. I wanted you to know I'm not laughing at you the way she said."
Liza would never forget how paralyzing it could be to finally hear the thing you had been longing for come to fruition. For the rest of her life, she would remember the sheer volume of terror that twisted through her with the arrival of that one simple admission. She couldn't move, couldn't think, and because she couldn't she almost let him get up and walk out with his head hung in solemn defeat. It was him standing that broke the silence in her, and she grabbed his hand, tugging on it with surprising strength. He looked down, his face split between surprise and hope, and she pulled again. He sat beside her, gripping her hands tightly.
“Liza?” he said, using her name like a question.
“Do you mean it?” she asked fiercely, her adrenaline galloping through her ferociously, “Do you mean that? Because I have to tell you something and I think you might hate me for it. I just want to know that everything I felt wasn’t bullshit before you get up and walk away.”
"Are you kidding me? You say the word and I'm here. The only way I'm walking away is if you tell me to go," he said, his voice tense and thick. Liza inhaled deeply, willing herself not to pass out. She believed him, oh boy did she ever, and that somehow made what she needed to say more terrifying. To have this one brief moment of love and then to have him leave anyway would be a tragedy she wasn't sure she could recover from, and yet she couldn't keep her mouth shut a moment longer.
"I'm pregnant, Wesley. It wasn't planned, and I know it's the last thing in the world you wanted, but I-"
She had plenty more rambling to do, all of her reasons for why she wanted to keep the baby, and he didn't need to be a part of the child's life if he didn't want to. She didn't get to say any of it, never got to say it, in fact. He stopped her mouth with a kiss, and when he lifted her into the air so that he could carry her to a bedroom he already seemed to know how to find, he received no protests from her. He spent the night at her place when the lovemaking was done. After that, they never spent another night apart again.
*****
THE END
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