I’m losing him every day that passes, and it’s destroying me.
“EVERYTHING IS HEALING NICELY, ANGIE. I’d like you to take it easy for another week or so. No heavy lifting, and then we’ll start physical therapy for your wrist in about two weeks when we remove the cast,” the doctor explains. “Do you have any questions?”
I go over my list of things to ask, especially about travel. It’s been four weeks since the accident. All the bruises are gone and cuts are healed. Other than the wound still very deep inside my soul, I’m doing well.
I have to go back to Philadelphia sometime in the next week, Erin has been nothing but supportive while I’ve been healing, but it’s not fair to leave her on her own much longer. Presley offered to road trip with me and the boys. They’ve been begging to visit some of their friends, and I could use the company. Plus, she misses the bakery, so it’s something I have been thinking about.
I glance to the empty plastic chair that Wyatt should be sitting in but isn’t. He decided not to come in with me. Again, another show of his new attitude. Each little thing adds a new tear to my already annihilated heart. I don’t understand this at all. Maybe it’s my lack of relationships that has me so inept in dealing with this. Maybe it’s the fact that he’s never endured loss and I seem to be a pro at it.
It doesn’t change the fact that it’s breaking me apart.
Dr. Borek and I exit toward the waiting room. When Wyatt spots him, he stands and heads our way. “Everything okay?” Concern filters through.
“Angie is doing great,” he assures him. “How are you handling things, son?”
“I’m doing fine. Getting back to work was good for me.”
I want to laugh. He’s not doing fine.
The doctor nods. “Good. If you notice you’re not yourself, we can get you in to see someone.” Wyatt’s eyes cut to me, and he mashes his teeth together.
Great. Now he thinks I said something.
“Thanks for the offer, I’m really okay.”
I mentally roll my eyes and sigh. “Thanks again, Dr. Borek,” I cut in. “I really appreciate everything.”
“You be safe on your trip.”
Wyatt flinches. “Trip?”
Well, if he were to ever actually talk to me, he would know. But he doesn’t. He avoids me at all costs. He’s home when I go to the bakery. He’s at work when I’m home. And if by some chance he’s around me, he does his best to be busy.
“Yes, I’m going to Philly to meet with Erin.”
He shakes his head while releasing an inaudible laugh. “Of course you are.”
Dr. Borek shifts his weight. “I’ll let you two talk. Be sure to make an appointment in a few weeks. I want to check your wrist before you start PT.”
Wyatt turns on his heels and walks away.
We get in the truck, and he wastes no time getting on the road. He drives the twenty minutes back to the house in silence. The thickness in the air between us is stifling. I have a feeling we’re not going to come out of the fight that’s brewing unscathed.
I didn’t keep the trip from him for any reason other than he avoids me at all costs. I can’t tell him something when he refuses to acknowledge me.
We pull in the driveway, and he shuts the car off. Neither of us moves.
After a few minutes, Wyatt turns to me. “I don’t know how to do this anymore.”
I look over and sigh. “I don’t either.”
“Were you plannin’ to tell me about you going back?”
“Were you planning to speak to me?” I throw the ball back in his court.
“We talk.”
“The hell we do.” I cross my arms and swallow my tears. “We don’t talk. You don’t come home, you don’t call me in the middle of the day anymore, and you haven’t slept beside me in weeks. I bet you can’t even remember the last time you kissed me. I figured you’d be happy I was leaving for a bit.”
“I told you I can’t right now,” he huffs.
“And I’ve understood that. I know that you’re handling this the only way you know how, but you’re pushing me out the door. I thought maybe if I go back to Philly for a while, I can give you the space we both need.”
“Then what?” His voice shifts. “Then you just come back?”
I’m going to lose it. I’m done being understanding and patient. I’m tired of feeling like I’ve done something wrong and have to walk on eggshells. Maybe what we felt for each other really was because of the baby. If so, better to figure this out now. Will it hurt to leave him? Yup. But the Wyatt I fell in love with died alongside our baby.
“I don’t know, Wyatt. Do I have a reason to come back?”
He slams his hand on the wheel. “So we’re going to go around in riddles?”
“This right here,” I say, pointing between the two of us. “This was something special. I fell in love with you. I want to stay and be a family. I love you!”
His head shakes back and forth. “No. No you don’t.”
“Yes I do! I love you! All I want is for you to stop fighting me now. You told me that night you were falling in love with me. I wanted to say it so bad, but I didn’t know if I was crazy. Don’t tell me I don’t love you!”
It’s not right. We were doing so well. We were happy. We were going to have a life together and a family . . . now we’re so broken. He doesn’t believe me.
“I was falling in love with you.”
“And now you aren’t?” I don’t know why I asked. I really don’t. Deep inside me, I know what he’s going to say.
Wyatt’s brown eyes shimmer with unshed tears. “No.”
Just like that, the fragile pieces of my heart disintegrate into dust.
“You know?” I let my tears fall freely. “It took me thirty-six years to ever let myself love a man. I thought when I finally let myself go, it would be for someone special. Even though you just single-handedly destroyed me, I wouldn’t change it.” I now understand Presley’s words. “I would give myself to you all over again, even knowing it would end this way.”
I open the car door and head inside. I don’t look back because there’s no point. He’s already gone.
“Wyatt?” I call out in the blackness. It’s three in the morning, and he’s not here. I look all around the house, but there’s no sign he ever came home. After our fight, he took off. I didn’t try to call him. I hadn’t wanted to. He really hurt me this time, but it’s strange that he’s not here.
I look for his truck, but it’s missing.
I call his phone, but get his voice mail.
Where the hell is he?
I don’t want to worry anyone, but I can’t seem to shake this feeling in my gut. Something’s wrong.
“Hey, is everything okay?” Trent’s sleep-filled voice comes through.
“I’m sorry to wake you, but Wyatt and I had a fight, and he left hours ago. I don’t know if he’s maybe with you?” I start to pace the floor. “I’m just worried.”
Trent clears his throat. “He’s not here, at least not that I know of. Let me check.”
I stay on the phone, and he lets me know Wyatt’s not there. “Can I borrow your car? I need to find him.” I hate asking, but there’s no way I’ll go back to sleep without knowing if he’s okay.
“I’ll look for him. You stay put in case he shows back up.”
“He’s not handling this well,” I inform him.
Trent releases a heavy sigh. “I know, Ang. I tried talkin’ to him the other day, but he told me to fuck off. I’ve never seen him like this, Zach and I are at a loss on what to do. But I know him, and he’ll figure himself out. He feels responsible for hurtin’ you.”
“It wasn’t his fault!”
“I know that. You know that. It’s Wyatt who doesn’t.”
My heart hurts for him. He has been awful, but I still can’t help but only see the man who made me coffee, baked cupcakes, showed me how to fish, and took me to the cabin. He was the man who would make me feel like I was worth ev
erything. In a few short months, he showed me how great life could be with someone.
He’s still in there. Because I won’t for one second believe that this Wyatt is the real Wyatt.
“Will you find him for me, Trent?”
“I’ll find him. Then you can beat his ass for wakin’ me up.”
I laugh. “Deal.”
Thirty minutes later, Wyatt stumbles through the door. His eyes meet mine as I stand at the door to the bedroom.
“You’re still here?” he slurs.
Great. He’s fucking drunk. “Where have you been?”
“What do you care?”
“What do I care?” I spit the words back at him. “I’ve been worried. Where have you been?”
“Out.”
“Well, that’s nice.” I huff.
“What does it matter anyway? You’re leavin’, and we’re done.”
“So, you’re going to really stand by that you never loved me? Everything we felt, everything we shared, was all a lie?”
He comes closer, and all I smell is alcohol and cheap perfume. “Nothing was a lie, until I destroyed it all.” He points to my chest. “Because you’re better off being where you wanted to be anyway. I’m doin’ you a favor.”
“By pushing me away?”
Wyatt throws his hands up and then lets them fall. “I’ve been tryin’ to tell you, baby. I’m lettin’ you go. You and I can move on now. You don’t have to look at me and see the man who took it all away!”
“You don’t know anything.” I stare into his eyes.
He squints and purses his lips. “I know what I know.”
“You’re drunk.”
“Yup!” He laughs. “I finally feel nothing. I can breathe and see straight.”
I roll my eyes and start to walk away, but he grabs my wrist and pulls me against him. Our bodies slam together, and my heart races. It’s the first time he’s touched me in weeks. We stand for a moment, breathing each other in. I’ve missed his touch. I’ve craved for him to be close to me like this, but it hurts too much. I see the hurt in his eyes. I don’t know how drunk he is or if he’ll remember this in the morning, so I decide to lay it out.
“I love you. I know you’re hurting. I know that you think all this is your fault . . .” I say as I run my hand along his jaw, feeling the scruff that covers his skin. “It’s not. It was a terrible accident where we both lost something precious to us. But I would’ve given my life up for you, not because of her, but because I love you.” Wyatt’s eyes close and a tear leaks out. “I don’t believe you’re this man. This angry, hurt, foolish man who goes out and drinks himself stupid. You’re the man who moves all your clothes out of the closet to give me room. The one who learns how to make my favorite drink. The guy who laid with me in bed and let me soak your shirt with my tears. The guy who took me fishing and showed me I could let go. The man I fell in love with wanted our first time as a couple to mean something. He fought through a very tough exterior to make me fall in love with him.” I trail my hand from his jaw so it can rest over his heart. “The man that stands here isn’t him. I’m begging you to find him. Find him before this new man finds himself alone.”
Wyatt wipes the tear from my face. “You’re leavin’ anyway. Just like you were always going to.”
I shake my head. “I’m going back for a week. It’s up to you if I return.”
I press my lips against his. I can’t stop myself. I’ve missed this so much. The kiss deepens as he lets go a little more. His hands grab my cheeks as he holds me tight. I hold his face, keeping him to me as my heart aches thinking this could be it. This could be our last kiss. I try not to let my mind go there, but my emotions are at war with each other.
I love him, but he’s hurting me.
I want to save him, but he won’t let me.
I want to hold on to him, but he’s pushing me away.
His arms begin to loosen, and I grip him tighter.
No. Hold on to me. I beg in my mind. “Let me love you, Wyatt.”
Wyatt rests his forehead on mine. “Let me go before I hurt you more.”
“This is what’s hurting,” I murmur. “If you love something, you have to fight for it. Fight for me. Fight for what we could’ve been.”
His eyes lift as he drops his arms. “I have no fight left, and I don’t love you. Go back home, Angie.”
Wyatt
MY FUCKING HEAD IS POUNDING. How much did I drink last night? I rub the side of my head and try to recall what happened.
I remember getting to the bar, drinking a shitload of shots, and seeing Beau, the guy who didn’t save Faith. He should’ve done something more. I remember telling him all that, and then I think my brother showed up.
My eyes open, and I look around, only vaguely realizing that something’s different. I’m still too hungover to give a fuck, though.
I grab my phone to check the time. Holy shit! It’s three in the afternoon, and I have four missed calls. Two from Presley, one from Trent, and one from Mama. I toss the phone back on the couch and cover my eyes with my arm. No way I want to hear from any of them. All three will tell me what a fuck up I’m being—as if I didn’t already know. I can’t seem to stop myself.
“Open the damn door, you asshole!” Presley yells from the other side of the front door.
Maybe she’ll go away.
“Goddamn it, Wyatt Hennington!” she screams.
I sit up and drop my head into my hands. I don’t need this right now.
“I know you’re in there.” She kicks the door.
This won’t end well. I get up and open the door to find her staring at me with so much anger in her eyes it forces me to step back. “Good morning, Cowgirl.”
“Don’t!” Her small hands push against my chest. “Don’t talk! I will beat the shit out of you with my bare hands. I can’t even believe you right now. Who are you? Do you think you’re the only man who’s dealt with loss? Do you think at all? No. I don’t think you do! I can’t believe you said those things to her! I can’t believe you just let her walk away!” Presley rants and yells as she continues to hit me.
“What the hell are you talkin’ about?”
“You’ve got to be kidding!” She shoots straight to rage.
“Presley.” I sigh. “I have no clue why you’re yellin’ at me.”
“Look around, Wyatt. Look around your house, and let me know what you see, you stupid idiot.”
I take a second and try to place what I thought was off. Everything is like I remember it, except it’s not. The photo of Presley and Angie that sat on the mantle is gone. The quilt that Angie brought from home, which was draped over the back of the couch, is missing. Little things that she put out aren’t there.
My feet move to the bedroom, and I throw open the closet. It’s all gone. There’s no clothes hanging. I rush to the bathroom to find all her girly crap is gone too. She’s gone.
Then I remember what happened when I got home. It comes in chunks, but I recall the fight. The way she begged me, and how I put the final nail in the coffin. I made her think I never felt anything for her.
I lied.
And she’s really gone.
In my head, I knew this was coming. It’s the life she wanted, so I was trying to give her a reason to let me go. Hurting her went against everything I stand for, but keeping her here was selfish. She thought she loved me. I know she loved her life before me. When we lost Faith, there was no reason for her to stay.
I saw the goodbye as soon as she opened her eyes in that hospital room.
I just helped her get there faster.
“Yeah.” Presley leans against the door with her arms crossed. “Good job.”
“She was leaving anyway.” I try to cover the pain in my voice.
“No, Wyatt. She wasn’t.”
“I saw it!” My voice rises as the self-hate flows through me. “I gave her the out she wanted.”
Presley stalks into my room until she’s right in front of me. “I’ve
never seen her cry like that. Never. Not over losing her brother, not because of the hateful shit her mother says, not even over losing Faith. Not once have I seen my best friend so broken. She couldn’t talk. She couldn’t breathe. She was curled in a ball asking what she should do.” Her green eyes shine with disgust. “After I finally got her calmed down, she told me what you said. So I told her to walk away and get on that plane. I know you, Wyatt. I know who you are, and this . . .” She huffs. “This isn’t who you are. But you lost her. Good job, buddy. I hope this was what your master plan was. I really thought you loved her. I thought you were just in pain and lashing out. Turns out I was wrong.”
“I do love her!” I yell. “I love her so much I let her have what she wanted. I killed myself in the process! So, fuck you, Presley! You don’t know what the hell I’ve been going through!” I let it out and sink onto the bed and grip my head. “You have no idea!”
“No?” she asks with an edge to her voice. “I lost everything once! I found my husband hanging from a beam in my bathroom while my two kids were downstairs. I’ve dealt with losing someone. Don’t you dare tell me I don’t have an idea.”
It wasn’t her fault. She didn’t have the loss at her own hands. I did. That’s the part that no one else can ever tell me how I should feel about. I watched her lose that baby. I was driving the car. I was the one who should’ve gotten her out sooner.
Letting her go is the least I can do for her.
“Were you responsible for that?” I push back. “Because I was.”
She shakes her head. “Oh, I’m sorry. I wasn’t aware that you can control what deer do? I didn’t know you were the goddamn animal whisperer! All this time I thought that you were a regular guy. My bad.” Presley snorts. “Or maybe you are actually related to the God of weather? It must be your fault then since you’re magical. My God, must you really be this stupid?”
“It was my fucking fault!” I yell.
“No. None of that was your fault. The only thing that is your fault, is what you did after. You drove her away. You broke her heart so that you could go on actin’ like a jackass! Well, good job there, you sure accomplished your goal.”
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