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“God– Wesley–“ Angela took another shaky breath as she ran her fingers through Wesley’s soft blonde hair, grounding herself back into their living room. Her touch lingered, trying to relieve the tension in his expression. Resting her warm lips along his hairline, she tried taking in his comforting scent. Aside from Wesley’s shallow breathing, the room felt hollow.
I should be angry.
But the feeling wouldn’t come. Instead, all she could do was hold him. Feel his chest rise and fall. Tell him that everything would be alright, even if she wasn’t completely convinced of it herself.
“Baby…” Angela closed her eyes and took a shaky breath, “I… I just thought you were… dead.”
Only seconds before, he was lying unconscious on their couch. He was fading away from the world, drowning in his own mind. Alone. Whether it was intentional or not, he’d believed he was dying.
She couldn’t understand how this had happened. Then again, things hadn’t been easy for Wesley lately. From recovering from a traumatic stabbing, to being unable to work, to dealing with panic attacks and anxiety problems, it was like he could not catch a break.
But how could I have just let everything get so bad?
Wesley was always so confident. Collected. Even while dating a cop, he always had that self-assured attitude to back his cool composure. But right now, he just looked small. It wasn’t even his ghastly pale complexion or his trembling hands, but that terrifying look in his eyes. Uncertainty. Fear.
What did I possibly miss?
Angela’s touch descended to his clammy cheeks. “Wesley, look at me for a second. Are you– do I need to take you to the hospital? I–” her voice broke as she tried to keep a steady tone.
Wesley’s posture straightened as he carefully sat up against their white couch. “I’m good… I think I’m–“ he paused, rapidly blinking to focus his gaze on Angela’s nervous expression. “I’m good now, just overdid things today. I’m okay, Angela.”
Angela nodded quickly. “Okay…” Her jaw tensed as she rubbed small circles along his cheek. “You just–“ she furrowed her brows, “pills and alcohol, Wesley?”
Wesley frowned, his eyes drifting past her look of concern. “Hm. Did you– did you just get back home?”
”Wesley, it’s only been a few minutes since I got back. I just woke you up off the couch… You really don’t remember?”
Wesley sighed, shaking his head. Everything felt just out of reach. But, he did know that Angela was still petrified. She wasn't always the easiest to read, but right now her fear was obvious. She could hardly take her eyes off him, as if her gaze were keeping him alive.
What if I decided to work late that night?
How could I even believe he was fine? He’s my husband– I know him better than anyone!
Do I..?
“Angela…” Wesley squeezed his eyes shut, searching his fuzzy mind for some words of reassurance.
“We can talk about this tomorrow,” she rose to her feet while keeping one hand resting in Wesley’s moistening palm. His weak grip tightened around her hand.
All she wanted to do was feel his warmth against her skin again.
Why couldn’t I help my own husband?
Wesley sighed, plastering a weak smile along his lips. “Hey, it’s alright, Angela. I’m standing right here with you without a problem.” His expression faltered as Angela’s quickly shifted from fear to frustration.
She paused. “You seriously can’t be telling me that you’re fine right now, Wesley,” her frown only grew more prominent, “I mean– did you happen to forget that I just found you unconscious on our own couch?!”
He was quiet, horrified through the realization of how this situation could have played out. “And I’m sorry for that. I shouldn’t have done it, I know. I–I wasn’t thinking.”
”Oh, I know you weren’t thinking! You weren’t thinking about how it was going to be me who’d have to find you–“ Angela’s voice shattered as the scene replayed in her head, provoking the steady stream of tears that she had previously fought to hold back, “find you dead, Wesley.”
Angela dropped Wesley’s wrinkled blue shirt on the messy floor, turning away before he could get a glimpse of her expression. As the room only spun faster, she flattened her palms against the wall. Angela kept her mascara-stained eyes squeezed shut as she slowly slid to the hardwood floor against the wall, only hoping to wake up from this nightmare.
“Hey,” Wesley’s voice was fragile, yet reassuringly calm. His movements were intentional. Sitting against the orange painted walls, he carefully slipped one hand into hers before using the other to wipe Angela’s tears from her face. “I know that I can only say I’m sorry about a billion more times. But, I also know that I love you more than anything in this life. Honestly… these past few weeks have been some of the hardest days that I’ve ever been through.” Wesley took a shaky breath, reaching for Angela’s other hand. “You’ve been there for me every step of the way– from therapy and sleepless nights to just helping me try to find myself again through the agony of it all. So… just stay here with me. I’m going to keep trying for you,” he couldn’t help stopping the tears accompanying his words, “please.”
Angela’s face softened, glancing down at her shaky hand resting in his. “Baby. I won’t ever leave you. I can’t,” her voice broke again as a stray tear slid down her cheek, “I don't want this to ever happen again. But, I’m not mad at you. I’m still terrified of taking my eyes off of you. I never want things to come to…”
Wesley gave a small smile. “They’re not going to. I’m figuring it out, Angela.”
”But you can’t do this by yourself anymore. You don’t have to be alone, Wesley. I’m right here,” Angela fought tears to finish her words, “I always will be.”