“After everything we went through, separately, it’s not that easy for me to let it go. I want to, and in time I’m sure I will, but until then, I think I need to go back to Denver. I need to live the life I’ve created for myself and Lola.”
“Chloe—”
“I know. I didn’t expect that to be my answer either.”
“What does it mean, then?”
“It means, I’ll head back to Denver tomorrow as planned. If you want to keep Lola for a few weeks, you can. I’ll come back and get her before she starts preschool. That way, you two can bond and get to know each other better.”
“Just like that, huh?”
“Just like what?”
“You’re giving up on us. You’re running again. This time, it’s your decision, though. No one is forcing you to run. You have a choice and that’s what you’re choosing.”
“No one can force me to stay either,” I reply, sliding my hand from his and standing.
“No, no, I can’t.”
Heading back to Wyatt’s house, the realization of everything I just did sets in. I want him to know I’m not giving up, I’m giving him time, but he can’t see that. I’m giving him an out. I don’t want him to feel obligated to stay true to the promise he made me so long ago.
Gathering my things, I call and make a one-night reservation at the bed and breakfast. I’ll swing back tomorrow morning to say goodbye to Lola. Wyatt offered to explain things to her for me, but the thought brought tears to my eyes.
I’ve been without her for a night before, but never for longer than that. Never for more than twenty-four hours. Two weeks is going to be the death of me, even if we talk on the phone every day.
Heading into Wyatt’s room to make sure I didn’t leave anything else, I see it. In a shadow box on his wall above the fireplace. The note I wrote him before I left. The two words that changed everything for us. The same two words I want to say to him right now.
I’m sorry.
23
Goodbye, again
As Fairview disappears in my rearview mirror, I cry. Just like the last time I left.
Tears of loss.
Tears of uncertainty.
The only difference is this time there are no tears of anger. I’ve let that go. I have to if I want to move on with my life.
After a quiet dinner with my parents last night, I retreated to the safety of my rented room at the B&B. My parents actually apologized to me. Not for the decisions they made, that would have been too earth-shattering, but they apologized for the repercussions of their decisions. They apologized for not allowing Wyatt the chance to know his daughter.
He was invited to come to dinner but declined. I can’t blame him. Who would want to be in that situation? I didn’t even really want to go, but I went anyway, more out of obligation than anything. I was glad I did after it was over.
My first step to closure happened as I drove away from their house. I felt finally felt free after all this time. Free from their grasp. Free to make my own decisions. That’s when the tears started, and they haven’t stopped yet.
Putting on a brave face, I met Addy at Wyatt’s this morning to say goodbye to Lola. She seemed excited to be staying with Wyatt, which broke my happy heart. I want her to spend time with him, but a part of me wanted her to be sad to be away from me.
Saying goodbye to Wyatt was awkward. We hugged, mumbled goodbye to each other, but I felt his stare as I walked away. It was like we were saying goodbye for the first time. I wanted to turn around and say hello just to say goodbye again, hoping I would feel different about it.
Now, Addy is behind me, following me home. Back to Denver. Back to the grind. Work will inevitably keep me busy, but it won’t keep my mind from wandering. Nothing will.
Lola is planning on calling me every night before bed. Wyatt promised to make sure she didn’t forget.
When we finally pull into the parking garage under our building, Addy rushes over and pulls me in for a hug. I’m not sure how she knew I needed it, but I did. My eyes are swollen and red. My heart is heavy, and I’m emotionally and mentally exhausted.
“You’re going to get through this, Chloe. If anyone can, it’s you.”
Her words are less than reassuring. Jones will be here in a week to visit her. I almost asked him to bring Lola with him, but that wasn’t the arrangement.
“I know,” I finally say as the elevator doors slide open in front of us. “Right now, all I want is to crawl in bed and sleep.”
It’s not even dinner time and I’m ready for bed.
“You know that’s not going to happen, right?”
Looking over at my best friend, I find her grinning at me. The kind of grin that you know means she’s up to no good. It scares you a little but, at the same time, peaks your curiosity.
Do I ask, or do I run away as fast as I can?
That’s what I do best, after all. I run. I don’t look back. I keep going until turning around isn’t an option anymore.
We can’t go back to the way things used to be. Too much time has passed, and too many hearts were broken in the process. Mending them will take far longer than you think, more effort than it might be worth.
That’s the question that won’t stop plaguing me.
Will it be worth it?
For Lola, yes. For me and Wyatt? I’m not sure we can go back to the way things were. We could play pretend, make a good show of it, but at the end of the day, is that all it would be? Going through the motions so everyone thinks things are great? So Lola thinks her parents are happy together?
He said he wanted what we dreamed of. The future we created that night.
How is that even possible?
The note on his wall confirms he’s been holding on all these years. But to what? Was he holding on to me? To his anger? To the mystery of what happened?
There are so many possibilities. Too many to think of. Too much uncertainty.
“Get out of your head, Chloe. It’s not good for you.”
“I can’t help it,” I admit, unable to process a lie quick enough.
“You can. You will. This is the beginning of something new. Things are unpredictable, and I know you hate that you can’t control it. You’re just going to have to be flexible.”
“It’s not that,” I say, gripping my keys for dear life.
“What is it, then?” she asks, a skeptical look on her face.
“Grab a bottle of wine,” I reply, the elevator announcing the arrival to our floor. “It’s going to be a long conversation.”
Carmen greets me at the door, taking my bags before looking into the hallway for Lola. Once I explain to her that she’s going to be gone for a few weeks, with her father, Carmen immediately begins packing her bags. She’s going to be with Lola, to help her.
She loves that little girl like she would love her own child. She’s been with us since she was born. She’s nursed her through every sickness and bandaged up many cuts and scrapes. I’m not surprised she wants to go to her. Wyatt will just have to deal with the intrusion.
When Carmen rushes out the door, I send Wyatt a warning text and wait for his reply.
ME: Lola’s nanny is on her way to your house. Her name is Carmen. She’s a sweet lady and is only there to help.
WYATT: Um, okay.
ME: She’s not going to take no for an answer, I already tried.
WYATT: So what do I do?
ME: Unlock the door or she’ll break it down to get to her. Set her up in your guest room and let her cook for you. She’s a great cook.
WYATT: Seriously?
ME: Yes. Think of her as a housekeeper, cook and nanny. She likes to keep busy. If there’s anything you don’t want her to see, hide it now. Your house will be organized and clean by the time you get home from work tomorrow.
WYATT: I was planning on taking Lola to my mom’s while I was at work. Is that going to be a problem?
ME: No, just let Carmen know when you’ll be back. She’ll want to hav
e dinner ready. Trust me, she’s there to help, not get in the way. You’ll like her. She’ll make life easier on you.
WYATT: You’re taking her back when you pick Lola up, right?
Laughing, I promise Carmen will leave when Lola does. Wyatt doesn’t seem happy to be sharing his time with Lola, but he’s going to have to get used to it. After a few days, he won’t even notice she’s there. Hopefully.
Addy arrives just as I put my phone on the charger, a bottle of wine in each hand.
“Red or white?” she asks, kicking the door closed.
“I said one bottle.”
“And I couldn’t decide if I wanted red or white.”
“Fine. Red, but take the other one home so we don’t drink it,” I say, eyeing her.
“No can do. I have a taste for both tonight so we’re drinking both.”
Handing her a corkscrew, Addy pops the cork on the bottle of red and pours us each a glass. Sitting at opposite ends of the couch, I mimic Addy, crossing my legs Indian style and facing her.
“Start talking. I want to know everything,” she says with more enthusiasm than needed.
“There’s not much to tell, Addy. I just… I don’t know what to do. I want him to have a relationship with Lola, but I’m not sure I’m ready to cross that line with him again. Not because I don’t love him, because I do. Our history isn’t perfect, remember. There’s a lot we need to work past and jumping back in without dealing with it first isn’t a good idea.”
“What does he think?”
“He thinks we should pick up where we left off, basically.”
“So why in the hell are you here?”
“You know why,” I say defensively. Setting my wine glass on the table, I begin to pace the room, my last conversation with Wyatt playing through my mind.
“What did he say, Chloe?”
“All kinds of things.”
“What is it that has you freaking out?”
“He wants us to be a family. He wants the family, the future, we planned together.”
“And you don’t?”
“Of course I do,” I holler at her, my admission catching me off guard.
Smiling, Addy relaxes back into the couch. She knew I needed to say it out loud. I wouldn’t believe it unless I said it myself.
“So, what are you going to do about it, then?” Addy asks after a few moments of silence.
“I don’t know.”
“It’s a simple answer, Chloe.”
“It’s anything but simple, and you know that. I can’t just pick up my entire life and move back to Fairview. I have a job, friends, and responsibilities. Denver is my home.”
“That’s funny. I thought home was where the heart is. Where is your heart right now?”
Trying to escape my chest through my throat, making it hard to breathe.
“Listen, Chloe. You can do this the hard way. You can fight what you want, what you know you deserve. You can fight your second chance at happiness with Wyatt. Or, and I know this is hard to believe, or you can go with it. You can take a chance at happiness and believe everything he said to you. You can believe that he still wants you, that he still loves you. What did I tell you before you left?”
“There was a chance he still loved me.”
“Why?”
“Because I still loved him after all this time.”
“And why do you still love him?”
“Because our love was the forever kind of love.”
“And what makes it that kind of love, Chloe?”
I don’t want to say it. I don’t want those words ringing in my ears again, but I also don’t want Addy here all night pestering me to say it.
“Imperfection is what makes it perfect,” I finally say after Addy clears her throat twice, waiting for me to reply.
“Nothing in life is perfect. Some things come close, others are far from it. The best things in life are worth fighting for. This is one of those things, Chloe. You know that. Wyatt knows that. Hell, even Adam knows that.”
“What is Jones fighting for?” I ask, the mention of his name catching me off guard. When Addy doesn’t answer but her face turns beet red, I laugh. “Oh my God. You love him, don’t you?”
“I wouldn’t go that far, but I like him. A lot.”
“Enough that he’s worth fighting for?” I ask, using her words against her.
“All love is worth fighting for, Chloe. New love, old love. You just have to decide if you’re willing to fight for it. It can’t be a one-sided battle. You’re either all in, or you’re not. Wyatt’s all in, in case you were wondering. Not just because of Lola either. He’s in it for you. He’s loved you all this time, and you walked away from him. The only difference is that, this time, you didn’t leave a note.”
Her words strike deep, reopening the wound I’ve tried to close all these years. I knew that note would hurt Wyatt. It would confuse him and anger him. The only way I could have made it worse was to tell him that I was pregnant.
That would have destroyed him.
In a way, I wonder if finding out about Lola has destroyed a part of him that I’ll never see again. It doesn’t seem to have, but only time will tell.
Two weeks.
I have two weeks to figure out what I want. To decide what my next move is.
In my heart, I already know. I know what I want. I know where I should be. Now to get my head on straight so I can get there.
24
Secrets, the good kind
When I hear my phone ringing from the other room, a smile slowly begins to spread across my face. Right on time. Like clockwork.
Day 13
Thirteen days without seeing my sweet girl, but all that changes tomorrow.
It’s been hell, to say the least. I’ve cried myself to sleep on more than one occasion after hanging up with her. I miss her with all my heart, but I’m so excited for what lies ahead, and she’ll be excited too. Once I tell her.
“Hey, sweet girl. How are you?”
“Hi, Momma,” she laughs. “Stop tickling me, Daddy. I’m talking to Momma.”
“Can I talk to Momma?” I hear Wyatt ask. He’s been asking her for the last week, and she won’t let him talk to me. Not until she’s done.
“No. It’s my turn.”
Lola laughs, screaming at Wyatt to stop. He’s wearing her down, I can hear it. When she finally agrees to give him the phone, he stops tickling her, her laughter fading in the background.
“Hey,” he says, sounding out of breath.
“Hi.”
Our conversations have been like this. I don’t want to give anything away. Not yet. I’m a horrible liar and hate keeping secrets, but this a good secret to keep. I prefer to think of it as a surprise.
“What time are you planning on getting here tomorrow? I have to work in the morning, but I should be able to pick Lola up from my mom’s and meet you back here by six o’clock at the latest.”
“That’s fine. Would you rather I pick her up?” I ask.
It’s inevitable that I’ll see Becky sometime soon. I’m trying to wait as long as possible, but after tomorrow, it will become unavoidable.
“Um, why don’t you just meet me at the house,” he says, his voice somewhat hesitant. “There’s a key under your bench if you make it here before we do. Let yourself in.”
“Why can’t I pick her up?” I press. There’s something he’s not telling me.
“It’s just, she’s still a little upset with you.”
“I thought you said she wasn’t mad at me for leaving. That she understood I didn’t have a choice.”
“She’s not mad about that, Chloe. She just doesn’t understand why you’re not here now. I tried to explain it to her, but you know I don’t understand, either, so that probably made it worse.”
Well, shit. She won’t be pissed for much longer.
Wyatt and I have talked things over every night for the last two weeks. He still believes that we belong together. He still loves me.
He hasn’t said those exact words, but it’s evident in how hard he’s been pushing for me to come back, to make us a family.
He’s also been ruthless when it comes to making a decision about Lola.
He wants her to live with him half the time. Week on, week off. We can meet halfway. It’s not a great plan, but for my sanity, I let him think that’s what’s going to happen.
After we worked that out, he still asked me to come home. Again.
All the pressure to make a decision was annoying, especially since I had already made my decision. There were a few times I almost broke down and told him the truth, revealing all my cards. Secrets are not meant to be shared, but this secret was so good all I wanted to do was shout it from the rooftop so the entire world could hear.
“Sounds like I need to avoid her, then. I’ll meet you guys at the house,” I finally say when I realize the line had been silent for far too long.
“Okay. I guess I’ll see you tomorrow, then.”
“Yep. Tomorrow,” I quip, my voice trailing off, my nerves kicking up a notch. “Can I talk to Lola real quick? I know she needs to get in bed.”
“Oh, right. Just a second.” I hear him holler for Lola and then her voice in the background. “Here she is. Goodnight, Chloe.”
Never goodbye, always goodnight. Or talk to you later. Or see you soon.
Lola requires me to sing her a song as she gets tucked in. I can see Wyatt’s face cringing at the sound of my off-key voice coming through the speaker of his phone. I sound worse in person, so he needs to be prepared for that.
After she’s tucked in tight, I hang up, not waiting for Wyatt to get back on the line. There will be plenty of time to talk tomorrow. Time to worry and fret and freak out.
“Knock, knock,” Addy calls out as she opens the front door.
“You’re not naked, are you?” Jones asks, hot on her heels.
He still hasn’t left. It’s been over a week since his “weekend” visit started. I heard him fighting with Wyatt on the phone the other day about coming back home. I don’t think he has any intention of returning. Not if Addy has her way.
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