I had always thought that it was to good to be true, and, in a way, I had been right. Wes Rivers was probably one of the sweetest guys I had ever met. I couldn't believe it when he became my boyfriend two months after I had moved to the new school. To describe me as ecstatic would be an understatement.

The way Wes treated me had made me believe that maybe. . . I was his number one girl. Thinking back now, I realized how stupid I had been.

I remember the first time I had ever seen Wes's room. One thing sticks out in my mind. The picture frame that sat on his nightstand. It was face down. Wes and I had just started dating, and I didn't want to be nosy. I didn't ask. I didn't ask the second, third, or fourth time I was there. I became accustomed to the picture frame just laying there on the table by his bed face down, day after day.

To think now, I should've asked. It would've broken my heart to find out then, but it wouldn't have broken me as bad as it did when I found out later. Later when I was already in way too deep.

Wes was the tortured soul type. It was one of the reasons I first noticed him. He always had dark circles under his pretty, forest green eyes. And those eyes—they were so sad. They held the sadness of a thousand heartbroken lives. No one should've been able to look like that. Especially at his age. He just seemed so defeated, and I yearned to make him smile.

I wanted so badly to know what made him look like that. If only I had known that all the answers were hidden under that picture frame.

We had been dating three months when all the puzzle pieces fit together.

I'm not for sure what made me turn the picture frame over. Wes had went to the bathroom, and I looked over at it. Suddenly, it was like I just needed to see what secret that picture would reveal. I had never pushed him to tell me why he was so sad or any of his other secrets. I wanted to know this though . . . Just this one thing.

When I flipped the picture frame over, I don't know what I noticed first. How happy Wes was or the girl. The picture looked like it was taken in a restaurant, but nothing too fancy. The girl was pretty, beautiful even. She wasn't trying. Her blond hair was in a ruffled ponytail, and she had no make up on. Wes and her smiled at the camera, raising their drinks as if in cheers. I'd never seen Wes smile… At least not a real smile.

And that was when I knew. . .

I had never been his number one girl. This girl—the girl in the picture— was that girl. I couldn't feel anything. I didn't know I was crying until I saw a teardrop splash on the frame.

I can't tell you why exactly I was crying. I wasn't crying because I was jealous. I would feel almost shameful if I was jealous. Who would want to break up two people who seemed so happy? An awful person, that I will tell you.

Suddenly, I felt my heart breaking. . . For Wes. And that was why I was crying. Whatever happened to this girl—because I was positive that it was something out of both of their hands that caused them to part— was what broke Wes.

I felt the mattress sink in beside me, but I didn't move. "I wondered when you would get curious enough to look at that or ask about it." His voice was emotionless, and I cried harder. I knew the reason now.

"What was her name?" My voice made it to the very last word before it broke.

"Alli. Her name was Alli." For the first time, I heard true emotion in his voice. It was the pain of a truly heartbroken man, the love most people only hear about, and the admiration few people truly earn.

"What happened to Al—her?" For some reason I couldn't say her name. I don't know why.

"What makes you think something happened to her?"

I looked over at his profile. Short black hair, long black eyelashes, straight nose, and full lips. He was an artist's dream model for a painting. He was beautiful, but an absolute heartbroken wreck. I would title the painting "Heartbreakingly Beautiful".

"Would you have given her up any other way?"

Wes Rivers looked at me, really looked at me, and I felt as if it was for the very first time. He studied my face with those eyes—such a deep green, so beautiful and so sad. Eyes that truly did take my breath away.

"She— she lost the battle." He let out a choked sound, and I realized it was a sob. Wes was so sad, but I had never heard him cry. "She fought so hard! My Alli was tough! But cancer won. By the end, she had to fight for every breath she took. I saw it coming. It was so obvious, you couldn't deny it.

"The doctors did everything they could, but, in the end, all they could do was make her comfortable and prepare us. But when it happened, when I realized she'd never laugh again or do all the things she dreamed of, I lost it. I threw a vase of Alli's flowers against the wall, and I screamed at the doctors who had tried so hard. I felt like a monster. Everyone was in so much pain, and I just kept making it worse. But I couldn't stop. I was afraid…"

He stopped talking for a moment and took a deep, shaky breath. Tears were streaming down both of our faces. He surprised me by reaching over and grabbing my hand. He held on tight, and I cried harder. This boy. . . This man—

"I was only sixteen at the time, but I loved Alli. I really did. She changed me, and I never for once regretted falling in love with a girl who was dying. Every second I had with her . . . It was special. When she died, I shut down. I was so scared to—to look inside and see what I was feeling. I tried to push it away, but I felt like I was dying too. . .

"You were right. If it had been in my hands, it never would've happened . . .I would take away every ounce of pain she felt. She would still be here today, even if I would've had to trade places with her. She didn't deserve that . . ."

I cried. I looked at the young girl in the picture. She looked so happy, so friendly . . . She made Wes happy. No, she didn't deserve to die. A sob escaped my lips, and Wes pulled me to his side. His arm was tightly around me like he was trying to keep both of us together.

"That was two years ago, but I still wake up. . . in the middle of the night. . . crying her name. I still wake up in the morning and hope it was all a bad dream, even though I know better. But, for those two seconds every morning, things are okay. . ."

It was like a dam had burst. The words just kept coming from Wes. He was finally opening up.

"And then I met you. It wasn't love at first sight, but you had this life to you. It was in your eyes, your laugh, your smile, your every movement. It was what I needed. So I made it my mission to get to know you. Everyday I spent with you, it was a little easier to go to sleep at night, to get over some of the pain, and leave Alli in the past. I'll never not love Alli, but that doesn't mean I can't get over her. There's always a part of me that's going to miss her, but I still need to live. . . There's a reason I'm alive today. That's the biggest thing I've had to realize. I can't stop living because there's a reason I'm here."

"Aria." His voice lost some of its vehemence and dropped to a whisper. "I really do love you. It scared me at first, but I realize it now. When I think about tomorrow, I can't imagine going through it without you. Not because you make me forget, but because you make me. . . Excited to live again."

My tears hadn't stopped coming, but came with even more force. I hadn't expected that. I hadn't known he cared either way, if I was here or not. He leaned forward and pressed a kiss to my mouth, our tears mingling.

"Love you, too." I murmured ineloquently against his kiss.

I wasn't the first girl he fell in love with, but that didn't mean Alli had to be the last girl he loved. He loves me too.