The Wrong Path_Smashwords (21 page)

Annabelle squeezed his arm. “Why don’t you call him?” she suggested quietly.

Trevor sat up, his expression cold. “Why? He obviously doesn’t care enough about Mom to wait around to hear how she is. Why should I care where he is? It’s his fault she’s here anyway.”

Annabelle felt her hands clench into fists. “I’ll go get you some coffee,” she told him, trying to keep her voice even. If he heard her, he didn’t acknowledge it. She watched as he slumped back down in his chair, his head in his hands.

She stood and walked down the hallway, rounding the corner before pausing to lean back against it and catch her breath. She knew Trevor was just upset about his mother and lashing out, but he didn’t know the first thing about his younger brother. He didn’t even try to understand him. He just attacked him without waiting for an explanation.

Just like Annabelle had done.

She felt tears spring to her eyes. She slid down against the wall, her knees curling up to her chest. She didn’t have Will’s number to call him and find out if he was okay. She didn’t have a car to go looking for him. She had nothing. Nothing that she could offer him.

He probably wouldn’t even want to see her. Trevor had already made it pretty clear she should just go home, and she was dating him. Seeing her would probably be the last thing Will would want, especially after their fight. Especially after the way she had treated him.

“Ma’am?”

She looked up to see a young, pretty nurse standing in front of her, a tender, concerned look on her face. “Are you okay?” the nurse asked gently, crouching down to her level.

Annabelle nodded, wiping the tears away from her cheeks. “Sorry,” she apologized, her voice thick with tears.

“It’s okay. Can I call your parents for you?”

She shook her head. “I’m okay. Thank you.”

The nurse hesitated, but she nodded slowly and stood, walking away. Annabelle sighed and drew herself to her feet, trying to calm her tears. Crying wouldn’t do Trevor any good, and despite how he was acting at the moment, he needed someone to be strong.

There was a sign indicating the cafeteria was down the left hallway, so she headed in that direction. She passed by dozens of nurses and doctors and crying people that made her want to cry in sympathy, and she knew without a doubt she could never, ever work in a hospital.

She paused as she caught sight of two double doors under a sign that read, “Chapel,” in big block letters. The cafeteria was just a few doors down, but stopping in for a minute to say a quick prayer couldn’t hurt.

She listened at the door to make sure there wasn’t a service going on, then pulled the door open. There were about eight people scattered throughout the dimly lit room. It was smaller than she expected a hospital chapel to be, barely squeezing ten pews in the entire room. There were candles lit on either side of the empty altar, and against the far right wall, a cluster of votive candle holders, most of which were lit.

She started toward the candles to light one for Mrs. Scarlett, pausing as she started to walk by the boy in the back corner. He was around her age, with long dark brown hair that covered his bowed face. His shoulders were slumped, his hands clasped in front of him in his lap. He was immobile; as still as a statue.

Her heart leapt into her throat, astonished.

Will.

All of her worries at seeing him—at him not wanting to see her—vanished as she stared at him. This was Will. No matter what they said to each other, he would always be there for her. And she would always be there for him.

Slowly, afraid of startling him and disturbing the peace in the room, she walked over behind him and gently placed her hand on his shoulder. She watched as his head lifted up to look at her. His dark eyes were dulled, the pain in them bringing tears to her eyes. His hand came up and held onto hers, and without letting go, she moved around the pew to sit beside him, their fingers interlacing as she rested her head against his shoulder.

She didn’t know how long they sat there, but at some point people came and left until it was just the two of them alone in the small chapel.

“Is it bad?” she asked softly.

He was silent for a moment. “Yeah,” he answered quietly. “It’s bad.”

She didn’t want to make him talk about something that hurt him, but she still needed to ask. “What happened?”

His voice was far away, as though he were watching it unfold before his eyes. “We were eating dinner. She got really pale and started complaining that she didn’t feel well. And then she just… collapsed. The doctor’s say she doesn’t have much time.”

She swallowed the lump in her throat. “Shouldn’t you be with her?” she asked.

“I asked her what she wanted me to do. She said pray. So here I am.”

Tears slid down her cheeks. She squeezed his hand. “You should go see her, Will.”

He shook his head. “You should. I’m sure she’d be happy to see you. And you should go be with Trev—“

“I’m not leaving you.”

The words came out automatically, decisive and final. She knew she should feel bad, or at least feel surprised, but she didn’t. She just wanted to be with Will. And, when a tenseness in his shoulders relaxed and he slumped against the back of the pew, squeezing her hand in response, she knew he was as relieved to hear the words as she was to say them.

 There was a vibration between them. Will gave a start, yanking the cell phone out of his pocket. “Dad?” he asked, his voice catching in his throat. His listened for a moment. Annabelle’s heart pounded in her chest as she waited for him to give any indication as to what he was being told. She watched in confusion as he wordlessly ended the call and stared at the phone, his face expressionless.

Then he stood.

“I’ll take you home,” he said quietly.

She let out a sob, glad she was still sitting. It took her several seconds to force her legs to support her weight, as if all the strength had been sucked from her body. Only after she reminded herself that Will needed her to be strong for him—not for him to have to be strong for her—was she able to force herself to stand up and follow him out of the chapel.

They were silent as he drove, except for her occasional sniffle. She was probably cruel not to tell Trevor she had left, but she couldn’t bring herself to call him. She didn’t care if it made her a terrible person or if everyone she knew hated her for it. She wanted to be with Will, and right now, Will needed her.

They climbed out of the car slowly. Annabelle looked up at her empty driveway, then at Will, who stood beside her on the sidewalk with a dull, empty expression on his face, waiting for her to go up to her house.

“Come in,” she requested softly, taking his hand and gently pulling him toward the house.

He looked like he might say no, but he just went, following her up to the house. She unlocked the door and led him up to her room, where together, as though it were the most natural thing in the world, they curled up on her bed, wrapped in each other’s arms.

Chapter Sixteen

“I didn’t go with them after that night, you know.”

She watched as Will’s fingers toyed with hers from her position against his chest on the bed, confused at his sudden admission.

“Who?” she asked, when he didn’t elaborate further. She lifted her head from his shoulder to look up at him.

His eyes were distant as he continued staring at their hands. “My friends. I didn’t go with them again.”

She felt her heart skip a beat as his words slowly sank in. He had listened. Their fight hadn’t been for nothing. Her words really had reached him.

She lowered her head back to his shoulder, her eyes falling closed with relief. He interlaced their fingers, their hands falling to his chest as he turned and sighed against her hair. She smiled slightly at the sensation, pressing closer to him.

She almost groaned at the light ding of the doorbell rang throughout the house. She closed her eyes, willing whoever was at the door to go away.

“Annabelle!” came a call from down the stairs. “Trevor is here.”

Her eyes flew open at her mother’s announcement, her blood running cold. She felt Will go rigid beside her, his fingers tensing almost imperceptibly around her hand.

And then Will pulled away from her, sitting on the edge of the bed with his back to her. She could feel hostility rolling off of him as she stared at his stiffened shoulders, not quite sure what to do.

“Well?” Will finally asked, without turning to look at her. “He’s waiting.”

Almost on cue, she heard her mother’s voice again, louder this time. “Annabelle!”

Annabelle flinched, her heart pounding in her chest. Hesitantly, she reached a hand out to Will and placed it carefully on his tense back. “I’ll be back in a few minutes. I promise.”

He gave no response. With pained movements she rose from the bed, an ache in her heart as she headed out of the room and down the stairs. Her mother was waiting for her at the bottom, her eyes sympathetic.

“He’s in the game room,” she told her, her voice soft.

It wasn’t until she was crossing the threshold to the game room that Annabelle realized it was the first time in her entire life her mother hadn’t knocked on her door to get her.

She hesitated, turning to look back in disbelief at her unusually perceptive mother. Did her mother know that Will was hiding in her room? How long had she known? Why hadn’t she said anything?

Her mother gave her a tender smile, full of understanding and compassion. Annabelle felt tears spring to her eyes, hoping her mother could feel the overwhelming gratitude she couldn’t even express. Of course her mother knew. Wasn’t that why she hadn’t said anything when Annabelle, who never ate a lot, made two sandwiches for lunch earlier that day? Wasn’t that why she hadn’t said anything when Annabelle kept disappearing into her room?

Both her parents had to know. And they trusted their daughter. Trusted her to make good decisions.

Annabelle had never loved her parents more than at that moment.

“Annabelle.”

The quiet sigh of happiness and relief brought her attention back to the game room—and her guest. She turned to look at the couch, where Trevor had stood. To her surprise he appeared almost completely unchanged except for a little discoloration from lack of sleep under his eyes. He smiled tiredly at her, but the smile was warm.

“Hi,” he greeted softly.

“Hi,” she returned, her voice sounding strained. She quickly cleared her throat and went on. “How are you doing?”

He offered a half-smile. “I’m okay. Hanging in there.” He walked toward her and held out a white envelope. “It’s an invitation to Mom’s funeral. For your family. It’s on Saturday.” She tried not to stiffen as his hand reached up and lightly combed through her hair. “I’d really like it if you were there.”

She felt almost sick as she forced herself to nod. “Of course we’ll be there. I’m really so sorry for your loss, Trevor.”

He nodded and smiled tiredly. “Thank you.” He let out a sigh. “I’m sorry. I’d really like to stay, but I have to deliver some more invitations and help dad with the preparations. Maybe if you have some time later this week we could have dinner.”

The idea made her want to cry, but she smiled tightly. “Good luck with the preparations. Let me know if you need help with anything.”

He nodded again, then drew her to him, hugging her close. She tried not to shudder as he held her, her body rejecting the unfamiliar body against hers. She stepped away as quickly as she could without being rude and flashed a supportive smile, leading him to the door.

“I’ll see you later,” she offered weakly.

“See you,” he confirmed.

She shut the door behind him, racing back up to her room as quickly as she could. She hesitated outside of her door, terrified to open it and discover the room empty. Bracing herself, she turned the knob and pushed the door open.

Will was sitting on the edge of her window, his feet just barely touching the floor as he stared out at the street between the two houses.

Relief flooded through her as she stepped into the room and shut the door behind her. Will had stayed. He looked like he had been thinking about making a run for it, but he had stayed nonetheless. He had trusted her.

“Here,” she said softly, joining him at the window. She held out the invitation, watching as his eyes slowly lowered to the white envelope.

A brief look of confusion flashed across his face, followed quickly by dispassion. His head raised and he stood from the window, stepping around her to the middle of the room. “I don’t want to see it.”

She looked down at the carefully addressed invitation, then back up at Will, who still had his back to her. “He said it’s this Saturday. They’re making the preparations right now—“

“I don’t care.”

She flinched at the empty, flat tone. Will cared. Will cared much more than he was willing to admit. She knew, because he looked haunted, and she had barely been able to get him to eat more than a sandwich in the last two days. “Will—“

“Are you still dating my brother?”

Startled, she stared up at his flashing, dark eyes. “Am I…?” she repeated, stunned. She hadn’t thought about Trevor once since she had been with Will, let alone talked to him. She had even turned off her cell phone to ensure that she couldn’t be reached by anyone. Today had been the first day she had seen him since the hospital. Though, as her mind returned to his suggestion of dinner later in the week and his hug downstairs, she supposed they were technically still dating. “I-I guess.”