Westley You Are Late Chapter 28
Westley stood there as if he’d forgotten how to speak.
The parking garage was eerily quiet.
After a long moment, he raised a hand and covered his face.
“I’m sorry.”
The words were muffled by his fingers, raw and hoarse.
“Brielle, I’m so sorry.”
I had once waited to hear those words.
I’d waited in sterile hospital hallways, in an empty apartment, even on a gurney outside the operating room.
But when you wait too long for an apology, it loses all its meaning.
“Westley, it’s not that you didn’t know you were hurting me.”
He slowly lowered his hand.
I continued, “It’s that every single time, you thought a few sweet words would be enough to fix it.”
At last, a tear escaped and traced a path down his cheek.
“Give me one more chance.”
I shook my head.
“You already used them all up.”
He reached out instinctively, his hand grasping at the air between us.
Footsteps echoed from behind.
Thatcher came to my side, but he didn’t speak for me.
He simply placed the car keys in my hand.
I knew he was trusting me to handle this myself.
Westley understood, too.
He looked at our hands, then back at my face, and the last flicker of hope in his eyes died.
“Do you love him?”
“Yes.”
I answered calmly.
Westley closed his eyes.
When he opened them again, he took a step back.
“I understand.”
I didn’t take the wedding dress.
The next day, it was sent to the Ferraro estate.
Along with the diamond ring from the party, it was put into storage.
Later, a friend told me that Westley went back to our old apartment. He unlocked the door and sat in the empty living room all night.
There was nothing left.
I had taken everything that belonged to me a year ago.
It was only then, sitting in the dark, that he truly realized it.