A Twisted Love Story(40)

“What do you think they’re about?” she says.

He rolls his eyes, takes a swig. No reason to say Wes’s name.

Heath knows a lot about their relationship, has heard about it over the past ten years, and Ivy has told him everything. Almost.

She gives Heath the abbreviated version of what happened this time, starting with when she first went to the police. Heath listens without interrupting, nodding at times, looking a bit shocked at others. She skips the real reason why Karen is looking into them and finishes the story with Wes’s ghosting, followed by the woman who picked up the phone two nights ago.

He waits a second before saying, “That’s it?”

“That’s it.”

“You haven’t done anything since?”

“Not a thing.”

Heath sits back a little and sets his beer down on the table. Starts scratching at the label. Maybe thinking about what he’s going to say, which words to use. Unlike her, impulsiveness has never been his style.

“Say it,” she says.

“Let’s recap this, shall we? Before I left town, you ran into Wes at that party.”

“The engagement party. Yes.”

“And you started talking about how much you missed him,” he says. “Then Wes stalked you, even followed you, and took pictures, and you went to the police. Which, I have to admit, is one of the sanest things you’ve ever done.”

“Thank you.”

“Don’t thank me. Because then you got back together with him, which is completely insane.”

Ivy says nothing.

Heath shakes his head at her. “Unsurprisingly, he dumped you. Again.”

She glares at him.

“The truly shocking part about this story is that he ghosted you and you’ve done nothing since,” he says. “Then a woman answered his phone, and you still haven’t done anything?”

“Correct.”

He finishes off the beer and walks inside her place. He returns with two more and plunks them both down on the table. “I don’t know how to say this without calling you a liar,” he says. “But I’m not sure I believe you.”

“I’m not lying. Every word is true.”

“Then there must be more to the story,” he says.

“Nope.”

“Nope? Seriously?”

“After giving it some thought . . . No, after giving it a lot of thought,” she says, “I’ve come up with a theory.”

“Go ahead.”

“You know I always get a little . . . dramatic,” she says. “And so does Wes.”

“Understatement. But continue.”

“So what if this ghosting thing Wes is doing, which is so weird and so out of character for him, what if this is a grand gesture?”

Heath stares at her.

“No, seriously,” she says.

“Ivy.”

“Yes?”

“Have you been watching rom-coms again?”

“I’ve seen them all,” she says. “But this isn’t about movies. The grand gesture is a real thing.”

“Every time Wes does something ridiculous, you call it a grand gesture.”

“Because it’s true. You can have more than one. There’s no limit on them.”

He gives her a look that almost makes her feel crazy. But not quite.

“Let me ask you something,” he says.

“Go ahead.”

“For one week with Wes, was it worth it?”

Yes. A billion times yes.

She has tried to explain this before, tried to make Heath understand what it’s like when she’s with Wes. A day, a week, a month. Maybe a minute. It’s always worth it. She has tried so many times to find the best way, the best analogy, to explain how it feels. But it’s never quite right.

She usually goes back to the night she met him in college, at a frat house, when Wes told her about the downstairs bathroom. That was the last she saw of him at the party.

Eventually, the night escalated to the point where everyone was too drunk, too high, too disconnected. Including most of her friends. She left alone, walking the few short blocks back to her dorm. Davis was a pretty safe place, all things considered, and she wasn’t scared until a guy stepped out from behind a tree.

He wanted money. This guy was trying to mug her on a college campus. Not the brightest criminal, but he was the one standing in front of her. Ivy, who didn’t have much money and wasn’t about to give up twenty dollars, refused to hand it over. On principle. And alcohol. The guy moved forward, trying to grab her.

Out of nowhere, Wes appeared.

He flew out from the side, or so it seemed, and dive-tackled the mugger. It happened so fast Ivy didn’t realize what had happened until the guy was on the pavement, facedown, Wes on top of him.

Wes said he had seen her walk out of the party alone and wanted to make sure she got home okay. Heath has never believed that.

“It’s creepy he followed you,” he told her. Many times.

Not to Ivy. Nor did she ever think of Wes as her hero, because she doesn’t need to be saved. What she needs is someone who has her back.

When it matters, Wes does.



* * *



—

“Yes,” she tells Heath, finally answering his question after pausing to take a sip of her beer. “This week was worth it.”