Chapter 24

There’s an old Cherokee tale about two wolves. It’s said that inside every person there is a dark wolf, representing every terrible characteristic, and then there is a light wolf, one who stands for humility and compassion and kindness, and everything good. The wolves are in a constant battle with each other. Want to know which one wins?

The one you feed.

I’d been feeding the dark wolf for most of my life, and because of that, I’d ended up with all those ugly feelings: loneliness, sadness, anger, resentment. I’d carried those feelings that had weighed so heavily on me that for every step I took, I sunk deeper into the ocean, deeper into the water. For the longest time, the light wolf inside of me had been ignored, starved, forgotten—just like me.

When I began to feed it instead, that’s when things changed. The good feelings began to surface: happiness, tranquility, positivity, love. It was Wes, actually, that had taught me how to feed the light wolf. He was gentle yet pushy, barging into my life in a whirlwind of sex and avocados and long days at the beach. He was the ice cream on a hot summer day, the most wonderful, delicious piece of chocolate you could imagine. He taught me that to feed the light wolf, you had to embody it. You had to become kindness, you had to become happiness. And once you did, it became a part of you.

It was a no-brainer that I’d pack up and immediately move to Maryland. I followed my heart, and my Heart had a fellowship to return to. After I was discharged from the hospital six days after the accident, I boarded a plane with the father of my child, holding his hand tightly as the plane took off. He squeezed my hand to reassure me that everything would be okay, and I believed him because I knew that as long as he was there, everything would be fine.

When we got to Baltimore, it was apparent that Wes’s apartment was not ready for a baby—but he had been ready for me. Everywhere I looked, there were the comforts of home. My favorite cookies in the pantry, my favorite tea, my favorite candles in the living room, an extra pair of house slippers just my size waiting by the front door.

Wes shrugged, grinning. “I hoped you’d come home eventually.”

I threw my arms around his neck, kissing him all over his face, overjoyed to be in this moment, to be with him. He put his hands on my waist, probably wider than the last time he’d put his hands there, and steadied me as I swayed.

“Can I have this dance?” he asked.

“Yes,” I said breathlessly. Honestly, anything he asked for, I was willing to give. I owed him so much.

He began to hum and I playfully kicked him in the shin. “My Heart Will Go On“? After all this time, he still hadn’t learned how much I hated that song? He laughed anyway, his body shaking, and kissed me on the cheek.

“No music,” I said, holding out my arms. He took them, guiding one on each of his shoulders.

“No music,” he agreed, putting his hands back on my waist.

We swayed in his living room, no music, nothing but our heartbeats to guide us. I was looking into his eyes, a blue so blue that it was pure. The longer we stared into each other’s eyes, the pinker my cheeks became. I wasn’t really one to blush—Dragon Lady and all—but with us swaying there, standing so close, I felt the heat crawling up my neck. My hands glided up from his shoulder until I had his face in my hands.

“I love you, Wes,” I said, and as I blinked, a single tear slid down my face. Wes wiped it away with the pad of his thumb.

“I love you, head, ribs, fingers, toes and all,” he said. “So much, you have no idea.”

“I’m trying to understand,” I said, pulling his face down. I kissed him; soft, sweet, slow. “Help me learn, Wes. I’m not ... good at this.”

“There’s nothing to it,” he assured me. “All you have to do is let go. Whatever tries holding you back, bark at it to fuck off.”

I laughed. “Kiss me, you goof.”

And he did. It was a kiss of the ages, the kind of kiss that put other kisses to shame. His lips were hot against mine, pliant and giving; searing, scorching. The cold and fucked-up world melted away like butter, smooth and bright as sunlight, filling me with a warmth that spread from my fingertips to my toes. I knew it wasn’t easy to love me, knew I was difficult and mean and stubborn and moody, but Wes had picked me anyway. He’d picked me, and now I was being kissed as I’d never been kissed before. He deepened the kiss with each passing second, drawing my breath from my lungs, kissing me until I was hopelessly breathless, barely able to breathe.

When he pulled back, his pupils were blown wide, and his lips were swollen. He had a soft smile on his face.

“You’re everything, Celine,” he said, his forehead coming down to lean against mine. “Everything.”

“You’re making me cry,” I said, and it was true; I was dangerously close to bawling. I’d never been so emotional in my fucking life. This was what I’d been searching for: this completeness, this wholeness, this fullness. I’d been so lost without him, but right there in that crowded farmer’s market, the pervert with my keys in his hand, grabbing my bag and yanking me to a halt, right there my life had changed. I’d bought him that avocado and that coffee, and the rest, as they say, was history.

After these last few months of heartache, I’d learned my lesson. It wasn’t that I couldn’t live without Wes. I certainly could. But it’d be a dreary, broken, sad existence. I didn’t want to live without him. I could, but I didn’t want to, and that mattered. It mattered to follow my heart.

Wes picked me up, and before I could really prepare myself for what was about to happen, I was in his bed. I looked up at him with what I hoped were bedroom eyes. He began to undress me, gentle but a little hurried. I helped him. The anticipation was already killing me. With each passing second, his lips trailing over my bare shoulders and up my neck, I felt myself shiver, the heat traveling right down to the taut muscles inside me, right between my legs. It was slick there, the result of my growing arousal.

“Wes,” I moaned as he nipped my throat with his teeth. “Hurry.”

He sat back, grabbed his shirt from the back, and pulled it down over his head. Next off were his jeans, and then his briefs. I was already naked beneath him. He gently ran his hands over my belly, leaning down to kiss it, and then spread my legs, bending down and pressing his hot mouth right against my sopping wet slit. I let out a sharp gasp, trying to put my hands in his hair, but I couldn’t quite reach because my elbows bent awkwardly around my belly. I gripped the sheets instead, throwing my head back as he began to eat me out, his tongue working wonders on my sex-deprived pussy. His hands were on my thighs, pushing them farther apart, fingers digging into my skin.