The Wrong Path - By Vivian Marie Aubin du Paris Page 0,68

I’m fine. Tell Ebony not to worry.”

She frowned at his dismissal, watching as he tugged the shirt over his head, settling it around his waist. “Will—“

“Why are you here?” Will demanded, turning on her with flashing eyes. “Really, Annabelle. What are you doing here?”

“I came to find you,” she repeated, her heart aching.

“I noticed. Why? Did you have a bad day again? Need a shoulder to cry on? Need someone to cheer you up because you got into a fight with your boyfriend? I’m probably not the person you want for that right now.”

He was hurt. She could see it all over him. Will looked exhausted and hurt, like he was barely keeping it together. She crossed the distance separating them, facing off against him squarely as she took his hands, interlacing their fingers. “No,” she agreed. “I’m the person you want for that right now.”

He looked… caught off-guard. And then angry. He pulled his hands from hers, smiling darkly down at her. “Really?” he asked. “I’m pretty sure we did that. And I left.”

She tried not to flinch at his harsh words. She forced herself to remain strong—to believe in everything they had been through together. To believe in Will. He was upset about something, and if he would just talk to her, they could work it out. Together. “To go home,” she pointed out.

“Where I left.”

“Because you got into a fight with Trevor.”

He flashed another dark smile. “Your boyfriend.”

“Stop it!” she shouted, frustrated. Why did it always have to come back to Trevor being her boyfriend? Why did he always have to point out that she was dating someone else? Someone who happened to be his brother? Someone she didn’t even want to be dating? “I had been about to break up with Trevor on the way home from the fair. Because I was thinking about you.” His eyes flickered, but she went on, unable to stop. “And then he got the call about your mom and I couldn’t. I couldn’t do that to him.” She shook her head, convincing herself of the words even as she said them to Will. She raised her eyes to his, meeting his unreadable gaze. “So stop telling me Trevor’s my boyfriend. I know. I know, and I’m sorry.”

He looked away. “You’re just upset because you got into a fight with Trevor today. You don’t mean—“

“I got into a fight with Trevor about you!” she cried. “For not telling me you were missing! Because I thought you had run off because I had done something wrong! God, Will!” She turned away helplessly, throwing her hands up in the air, before turning back on him. “I gave up my boyfriend, my friends, and everything I have spent years working for, just to be with you! What else do I have to do to prove that I love you?”

His head lifted instantly, his eyes stunned. Her chest heaved as she panted for breath, refusing to look away from his shocked gaze. She had said it. She hadn’t meant to say it, but she had. She had finally been able to tell Will—to tell herself—that she loved him.

“You,” she began, her voice trembling with emotion, “changed everything.” She shook her head, laughing almost bitterly at the memory. “I think the moment I saw you and Ebony in the mall the first time, something in me changed. I kept staring at you, admiring your courage.” It all felt like so long ago, but she went on, needing to say it. “And then I started seeing you everywhere. Every time I turned around, you were there. To save me. To help me. You were completely different from anyone I had ever known. You showed me things I didn’t even know existed. Whenever I went out, where ever I was, I started looking for you. Hoping you would be there. I looked forward to every time I would see you again. Not because I wanted a shoulder to cry on, but because I wanted you with me.” She looked up at him, tears blurring her vision. “Because you made me want to be me.”

He yanked her into his arms, clutching her fiercely. She let out a sob, fisting his shirt in her hands as she held onto him.

It was a long time later when Will slowly stepped back, just far enough to look down at her. Her heart fluttered as he gently smoothed her hair away from her face, a tender look on his face.

“When I was thirteen,”