Chapter 218
Wesley stared at the pill bottlen his palm long after Irene disappeared down the hallway.
How? The question hit him hard. How had she spotted his sleep problem after barely five minutes in the same room?
His thumb ran over the label as years of sleepless nights flashed through his mind. What started as occasional nerve pain had turned into something awful–nights spent watching the clock while his body begged for rest.
No sleep had hollowed him out. Once sociable and quick with a joke he’d become this empty–eyed ghost just going through the motions. His clothes hung off him like they belonged to someone else entirely.
He’d seen doctors in every country worth mentioning. Nothing worked. Eventually, he’d just stopped trying. Even hearing his sister was some kind of medical genius hadn’t registered as anything important. Good things happened to other people.
“You can’t sleep?” Nathan’s voice broke into his thoughts.
Wesley closed his hand around the bottle, slipping it into his pocket ike, it was nothing. “Just trouble sleeping sometimes. As if “sometimes didn’t mean every single night for years.
Nathan looked like he wanted to ask more, but Wesley was already sliding through the doorway, conversation over.
The day dragged on as Wesley sat motionless in his hotel room. Curtains closed, lights off, just sitting in the gray half–light. The hours ticked by without him noticing.
When ten o’clock came around, familiar dread settled in his stomach. Normal people got ready for bed now. His nightly torture was just getting started.
He splashed water on his face and fell onto the bed fully dressed, trapping the covers underneath him–a habit from countless nights of tossing and turning.
The second his eyes closed, his brain switched to high gear. Thoughts bounced everywhere, each one fighting for attention. Pain started at the base of his skull, sending sharp signals along his nerves.
It felt like something eating away at his sanity bit by bit. The pain got worse, making it hard to breathe, twisting his face into a grimace. His hands shook before curling into fists as another wave of pain washed through him.
The pill bottle sat on the table, just a few steps away. Help, just sitting there. Yet he didn’t move.
What was the point? Years of letdowns had taught him not to believe in fixes. He’d stopped fighting against the current of his life- no more struggling, no more asking for help, just waiting for whatever came next.
Morning came with him having maybe dozed off for less than an hour, running on empty but somehow
oing.
“Whoa, this place is crazy nice!” Brandon’s eyes went wide as Henry helped him from the car. He stared at Irene’s place like a kid at a toy store. “Makes the family house look like a starter home!”
The house stood surrounded by perfect gardens, sunshine hitting all the windows. Even the air felt cleaner here.
“Cut the sweet talk, Irene rolled her eyes as she held the door open. Just get inside before you block the driveway.”
“Just saying what I see, Brandon grinned, completely unfazed. “Coming here was definitely the right call.*
“Kids are studying upstairs,” Irene said as they walked in. “Grandfather went for a walk, he’ll be back soon.” She nodded toward the stairs. “Your room’s up there, last door on the right. Go get settled.”
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Chapter 218.
As they headed upstairs, Irene watched Brandon chatting away with Henry. A strange thought hit her–with his endless energy and need for attention, Brandon was basically her fourth kid. She pushed the weird idea away immediately.
Lunchtime rolled around and the dining room filled with voices and laughter. Brandon took his first bite and his whole face lit up.
“Oh my god!” he exclaimed, already going for seconds. “Since when can you cook like this?”
Joseph chuckled while the kids traded amused looks.
Brandon turned to Adam. “You eat here every day?”
Adam’s eyes met Irene’s for a split second. “Usually. Sometimes at my place.”
“No wonder you’re always here,” Brandon groaned dramatically, stabbing another piece of chicken. “I’d never leave either.”
Joseph laughed. “When did you become such a clown? The house feels alive with you around.”
The kids nodded eagerly.
“He was probably going crazy all alone in that hospital room,” Alex offered, always the little thinker. “People talk more when they’re not lonely anymore.”
Brandon pointed his fork at Alex. “This kid gets me.” He winked, making all three kids giggle.
Irene watched quietly, a small smile fighting its way to her lips. Whatever his faults, Brandon had a way with her kids.
“By the way,” Joseph said casually, though his eyes stayed sharp, “Wesley’s in town, right? Tell him to join us tomorrow. I want to see him.”
Brandon nodded with his mouth full.
After lunch, Brandon sprawled on the couch and pulled out his phone. Joseph stayed nearby, pretending to read while obviously listening in.
Wesley answered on the sixth ring, his voice thick like he’d just woken up. “What?”
“Dinner tomorrow?” Brandon kept it casual despite his brother’s rough tone.
The silence stretched out. Brandon could practically hear the ‘no‘ forming.
“Grandfather asked for you,” he added quickly.
A pause. “Fine, Wesley finally mumbled, the word sounding like it hurt to say.
“Great! I’ll text you the address,” Brandon ended the call before Wesley could change his mind.
Across town, Wesley dropped his phone on the bed. He’d caught maybe an hour of broken sleep before Brandon’s call woke him up. His body screamed for rest, his mind too jumbled to focus. The last thing he wanted was to socialize, but saying no to Joseph wasn’t something he could do.
The pill bottle sat entouched on the table, watching him silently.
The doorbell rang at seven sharp the next evening. Irene opened the door to find Wesley looking like death warmed over. His face had gone gray, dark circles under his bloodshot eyes, lips dry and colorless.
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Chapter 218
He didn’t take the pills, she realized instantly.
“Jeez, Wes, Brandon said from the couch, “rough week? Or tough month?”
Joseph didn’t sugarcoat it. “When did you turn into a walking stick? There’s nothing left of you.”
The triplets stared openly at their new uncle, with Lily whispering loudly to Lucas, “He looks scary.”
Wesley gave a slight nod that came a beat too late, like his brain was running on a delay. His eyes never settled on any one person, just drifting around the room.
Irene watched him, doctor’s eye mixing with sister’s worry. She’d seen this before–people who’d rather suffer than risk one more disappointment.
No pill could help someone who refused to take it.
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