Wyatt,
I’m sorry.
Chloe
I’m sorry? That’s all I get?
She’s gone, and she didn’t even bother to say she loves me.
“Are you ready for breakfast, sweetie?” I ask, leaning against the door frame.
“Daddy, can I tell you something?” she asks, dancing over to where I’m standing.
“You can tell me anything. What’s on your mind?”
“I don’t want to leave. Momma says we should never keep secrets, that secrets are bad. That’s my secret. I don’t want to go back home, I want to stay here. With you and Momma.”
Secrets are bad. I’m glad she knows that. She was kept a secret from me and as much as that hurts, I’m so happy to have her in my life now. So, yes, baby girl, no more secrets.
On the flip side, she’s the damn cutest thing and I can’t stand to break her heart. I wish she understood that Chloe wasn’t coming back to stay. How do you explain to a four-year-old that she has to leave without breaking her heart?
You don’t.
This place was home for Chloe once. Maybe it will be again one day. I can keep hoping, keep trying to convince her to come back to me, but until she’s ready, that’s all I can do. Try.
As hard as I can, as often as I can.
After Lola spends almost twenty minutes picking at her breakfast, we’re out the door. With Old Town opening in a little over a week, I’m pulling my hair out trying to make sure everything is perfect. The entire town is invited to come check it out tomorrow night. That should give us an idea of what we need to fix before the grand opening next weekend.
I’m hoping Chloe and Lola will stay for the opening. I’ve been trying to find a way to ask her, but the time hasn’t seemed right. Because every time I think about Chloe being here, being in the home I built for her, for us, for our family, I’m right back here the day I left her that note.
I want to confess my love. I want to ask her to marry me like I was planning on doing that morning. I want us to start over and move forward all in the same breath. I want our love story to continue because, for me, it never ended.
26
One
The ass-crack of dawn comes too soon. Before I know it, Addy is hugging me, handing me a to-go cup of hot coffee and pushing me out the door. The movers will be here tomorrow to load up all my things and bring them to Fairview.
Along with my things will be Addy’s things, apparently.
As of last night, she’s moving too. I’m not sure if it’s because of her feelings for Jones or the fact she doesn’t want to leave me and Lola, but I don’t really care. I’m happy she’s coming along for the ride and I know Jones is ecstatic.
“Drive safe,” she hollers after me.
“You too,” I reply. “See you soon.”
Addy has a lot to get done in the next twenty-four hours. She has to pack her entire apartment, cancel all her utilities and everything else that it took me almost two weeks to do. Thankfully, Jones is here to do the heavy lifting and Addy is a wiz when it comes to multi-tasking.
In fact, she’s a wiz with a great many things and as I make the short four-hour drive home, I find a way to put all her talent to use in Fairview. Talents that compliment my own.
The ideas come rushing at me full-force. So many are running through my head, I pull out my phone and start recording my own voice as I drive. I’ll listen to it later if I forget anything.
When I finally pull into town, it’s almost noon. I contemplate stopping at Becky’s to see Lola, even though Wyatt asked me not to. To keep myself from going, I stop at the Tavern to relay a message to Wyatt.
When I open the doors, I’m surprised to find a decent crowd of people, the hum of conversation floating around me. So this is the lunch rush?
“What are you doing here?” I hear Wyatt ask. When I turn, I find him with a rag slung over his shoulder and a tub full of dirty dishes resting on his hip.
“I have a message for you from Jones,” I state.
“I don’t have time for messages from him right now. We’re getting our ass kicked.” Just as he finishes his statement, the door opens behind me and four teenagers walk in. “Grab a table. We’ll be right over.”
“Would you like an extra set of hands?” I ask, wiggling my “spirit fingers” at him as he used to call them.
Wyatt’s grin spreads and he shakes his head at me. “Do you really think you can handle this? Remember last time?”
“You have to let that go,” I scoff. “I was seventeen and thought I could do anything.”
“You dropped an entire tray of food on the floor.”
“I have better balance now.”
“Fine. Follow me and I’ll get you set up.”
Wyatt gives me an apron and a pen and sends me over to the table where the teenagers sat down. I take their order and give it to the kitchen before bringing them their drinks. Another table walks in and I greet them as they sit down.
This continues for around an hour before the place is empty. Dirty, but empty. Tables are covered in glasses and baskets of leftover food. Grabbing a tray from the kitchen, I start loading it up, clearing one table at a time.
“Nice job,” he says, picking up the tray with ease and resting it on his shoulder. “Thanks for your help.”
“No problem. You looked like you needed it.”
“Yeah, well, with Jones disappearing and Old Town opening next weekend, I haven’t had time to hire someone else so I’ve been working all his shifts.”
“Speaking of Jones…” I begin, treading carefully.
“Unless it’s good news, I don’t really want to hear it.”
“He’ll be back tomorrow.”
“Really?” His surprise is evident.
“Yeah. Probably late afternoon.”
“That gives me plenty of time to dig him a proper grave before I kill him.” There’s a hint of laughter in his voice but also anger. Jones obviously left him in a bind.
“Addy’s coming back with him,” I continue.
“No wonder his ass is coming back home. He finally convinced her to come back with him. I swear to God, he’s in over his head. He must really love that girl.”
“I sure as hell hope so.”
“Yeah, well, love will do stranger things to a person.” His voice softens and he looks away from me and around at the mess. “I can finish this up if you want to take off.”
“What if I want to stay?” I ask, the simple question having more meaning than he could possibly know.
“You’re always welcome to stay, Chloe. For as long as you want.” Putting the tray back down on the table, he takes a step toward me and grips my waist, pulling me to him. “Forever.”
Or maybe he does have an idea of what I was really asking. I never was very good at getting things past him. Speaking in code was more his thing than mine.
“Good,” I reply, my voice shaky from his proximity. “Let’s get this place cleaned up and go get our daughter. I think it’s about time I apologized to your mama.”
Wyatt’s eyes widen in surprise before he begins laughing. “Um, yeah. About that. Unless you plan on staying here forever and letting her get to know her granddaughter, I think you may want to avoid my mother right now.”
“Nah. She loved me once, she’ll find it in her heart to love me again. Eventually,” I reply, staring deep into his eyes.
My eyes beg him to kiss me, but he doesn’t. From the look of things, I’m confusing him. Either that, or he’s guarding his heart. I would completely understand both reactions.
It’s taken me a while to let down the walls I built around my heart. Wyatt has the power to shatter my heart, the way I may have shattered his years ago. He’s the only one I’ve ever loved. The only one I’ve ever thought I would have a future with.
Even after years of being apart.
After not knowing how he would react to Lola.
I can still see the vision of what we talked about, of t
he life we planned to build together. The house helped me see it. Watching him with our daughter confirmed it.
Wyatt is the one.
The one man I was meant to spend the rest of my life with. The only man I’ll ever love. I gave him my heart years ago and I don’t want it back. I want him to have it, to hold onto it, to protect it with his life.
The way he looks at me when he thinks I’m unaware tells me that he’s holding on to it with caution. He still loves me. I know he wants us to be a family, making everything we dreamed of having together is within reach.
My gut instinct is to pull him to me and confess my love for him. In time, later, when our daughter is around to hear the news, I will. Until then, I can continue to drop hints and hope he follows the bread crumbs.
After the restaurant is cleaned up and Wyatt’s relief comes in, I patiently wait for him to finish in his office so we can go pick up Lola. The after-work crowd begins to filter in, and the bar coming to life for a second time that day. It still amazes me how much life he’s breathed into our little town.
He’s put Fairview on the map, created a living for himself, and everyone knows his name. They look at Wyatt as a hero, the same way I did all those years ago when he first rescued me. I wish my parents saw what I had seen back then, maybe things would have turned out different.
Maybe not.
There’s no going back and changing things, so it’s best to be grateful for what we have now. Each other.
“Ready?” he asks, sneaking up behind me and placing his hands on my waist.
All day long, since I dropped my first hint, he’s found little ways to touch me. I like it. It reminds me of how he used to hold my hand any chance he could.
I remember every time. Every detail of how his hands felt wrapped in mine. I remember every little thing about Wyatt, our relationship and the way he made me feel.
There were times I tried to forget, even brief moments I wanted to, but I never could. He was a part of me even when we were apart.
“I’m cold,” I complain, pulling my hand from Wyatt’s and shoving it in my pocket. The first flakes of snow began to fall a few hours ago, and we’ve been standing in the middle of the park staring at the sky ever since. Wyatt insisted on holding my hand while we watched.
“Come here, I’ll warm you up,” he says, wiggling his eyebrows at me.
Stepping into his outstretched arms, I let Wyatt wrap me in his warmth. The problem is, he’s not warm anymore either.
“You’re making me colder,” I explain, pulling away.
“Want to go back inside, then?” he asks, reaching into my pocket and wrapping his ice-cold hand around mine.
“Yes. There will be plenty of snow to stare at for the next few months.”
As we cuddle up on Wyatt’s couch, his mom brings up a bowl of popcorn and takes the seat across from us.
“Are you cold, Chloe?” she asks after Wyatt scoots closer to me, rubbing his hands over mine before enclosing them over mine and blowing his breath on them.
“A little, but I’ll be fine.”
“I can see that,” she smirks, turning her attention back to the television. “Keep those hands where I can see them, please.”
Wyatt stops, his hand in midair, as he’s about to cover us with a blanket. “Seriously, Mom?”
“Oh, I’m very serious. I don’t want to have to wonder what’s going on under that blanket. It grosses me out.” Becky fakes a gagging noise and then starts coughing. Reaching for her soda, she takes a sip and clears her throat. “See, you almost made me choke on my popcorn.”
Entwining our fingers again, Wyatt and I relax into the couch and watch the made-for-TV movie with his mom. Before I know it, Wyatt is snoring lightly on my shoulder and Becky is doing the same, her head lolled to the side.
Sliding out from Wyatt’s grasp, I kiss him on the forehead and gather my things. My parents freak out if I miss curfew, especially when the weather is bad. As I’m about to reach for the door handle, Wyatt grabs my other hand and pulls me back to him.
“Sneaking away?”
“You fell asleep on me.”
“I know. You were comfortable. I was hoping you might stay.”
“You know I can’t. My parents would flip out.”
“But I’m not ready for you to go yet,” he whines. “I want you to stay forever. And ever. And ever. And—”
“I get it,” I laugh. He’s said it before, and I’m sure he’ll say it again. “I’ll call you tomorrow. I promise.”
Relenting, Wyatt pulls my hand to his lips, kissing my palm before swooping in and capturing my breath. He makes me want to stay and risk getting in trouble. Forever. And ever.
“Ready,” I reply, turning and reaching for his hand.
When I slide my fingers between his, I swear I hear him moan. When I look up, I find him surveying my face, searching for answers. Answers he’ll find if he looks hard enough.
With a smile, I lead us out of the bar and to my car.
“Just like old times,” he comments as he reaches the passenger door, our hands sliding apart.
“Only better this time around,” I retort quickly.
“Better, huh?”
“Yeah. Better. Amazing. Unfathomable.”
“I thought we were pretty great the first time around,” he notes, ducking into the car.
“We can do better than great,” I reply, starting the engine and pulling onto the road.
This time will be different. No one will be running or forced to leave. There will be no notes, no I’m sorry’s without explanation. No secrets and no one left wondering. Life will be as we planned it, only better.
We can start from scratch or pick up where we left off. The choice is ours.
The best part is that I get to be with him. I get the chance to have what we dreamed, and I get it with the one person I was meant to be with. The one man that was made for me.
I get to spend the rest of my life with Wyatt… if he’ll still have me.
Epilogue
“Hurry up, Addy. We’re going to be late. Again,” I chide.
As responsible as she’s always been, timeliness has gone out the window since she moved to Fairview. Maybe it’s the slower pace, or the fact that we’re our own bosses, but she hasn’t been on time in two weeks.
“I’m coming,” she hollers down the stairs.
Her house is in shambles. Jones decided that it wasn’t appropriate for them to live in the apartment above the bar, so he bought a piece of shit house that he and Wyatt have been fixing up in their spare time.
They put in a new set of stairs and a railing last week. Before that, they demolished the kitchen and the cabinets and counter tops are being delivered next week. That means they eat “family” dinner with us every night. Addy and I have done some painting, mainly in the bedrooms before they put new carpet in.
Their big issue right now, aside from the lack of a kitchen, is the lack of a shower. The house they bought only had a free-standing tub. Addy’s likes to soak in the tub, but when it comes to washing her hair, she takes twice as long to get it done.
So the house is far from finished. The problem is, spare time is not common these days.
For us, Lola starting preschool and the opening of Old Town have taken up most of our time. We work, eat, sleep, and repeat on a daily basis. On top of that, add in Addy and I opening our own business and there’s even less time for anything else.
For Jones, with Wyatt spending almost all his time at Old Town, he’s been at the bar more. At night, after both of them have worked all day, Wyatt and Jones would rather sit on the porch and drink a beer than swing a hammer. Weekends tend to be the only time things get done.
“Ready,” she announces from the top of the steps.
“Did you want to wear matching shoes today?” I ask, staring at the navy, peep-toe heel on her left foot and the black closed-toe heel on her right foot.
“Damn it. Yes, I’ll be right back.”
&nbs
p; Laughing as she hobbles to her bedroom, attempting to remove the navy shoe, I think back on all that’s happened, all that’s changed in the last two months since moving back to Fairview.
That first night, when we went to pick Lola up from Becky’s, was the most exciting. For me, anyway. Not for Becky, and in the beginning, not for Wyatt. He was scared shitless when his mom opened the door and slammed it in my face before I could even say hello.
I sat in the car for ten minutes while Wyatt tried to calm her down.
Once he waved me in, I spent the next hour explaining everything to her over coffee and letting her in on my secret. I wasn’t taking her granddaughter away, and that led to hugs and tears of joy from both of us.
Wyatt walked in on us embracing. When he saw my tears, he rushed over to find out what was wrong. That’s when I called Lola into the room and the four of us sat around Becky’s kitchen table while I explained everything. Becky smiled at me the entire time, happy to hear me repeat the words I had shared with her moments earlier.
Lola bounced up and down in her chair, excited she wasn’t leaving.
Wyatt, well, he scared the crap out of me. His face gave nothing away beyond his shock at my announcement. That’s when he excused himself. Giving Becky a curious glance, she shrugged her shoulder in confusion and started a fresh pot of coffee. Just as she was about to pour me a cup, Wyatt burst back in the room and sank to one knee at my feet.
His actions and words brought tears to my eyes.
“Chloe Grace Warren, this ring was meant for you five years ago. The day you left me was the same day I was planning on asking you to marry me. It’s not much, but until I buy you something else, it’ll have to do. Will you marry me?”
He was going to ask me to marry him that morning? I never showed up and when I did, I left him with nothing more than a note that apologized. Now, here he is, with the ring he bought for that day, for that moment, asking me to marry him again.
“Are you sure?”
Imperfect Love Story Page 17