He swallows, running a hand along his jaw, “We can’t do this anymore.”
My heart stutters. Hearing him say it… it makes it so much more real. I blink, forcing myself to nod. “I-I agree. You deserve better than this. Better than me.”
Wyatt exhales sharply, dragging the chair a little closer, but still not sitting. Like he needs to give his hands something to do. His voice sharpens. “No, Winnie. That’s not what I meant.”
My mouth parts, and I shake my head, confused.
“I mean this pretending thing we’ve been doing. The marriage that wasn’t supposed to mean anything? The way we tiptoe around the way we really feel.”
I don’t say anything, and time stretches between us. I search his face for answers, to understand if this is some kind of prank. He pulls out the chair at some point, finally sitting. He leans forward on his elbows, eyes locked on mine. He’s so close I can smell him, and it makes it hard to concentrate on the conversation we're supposed to be having. “I’m done pretending. I want more, Whitney. I want real. I want you.”
“No, you don’t,” I give my head a violent shake. “I can’t give you what you want, Wyatt.”
“Bullshit.”
“This isn’t a joke, Wyatt!” I snap back, flinching when I glance at Brinley. I lower my voice, “You deserve someone…whole.Someone who doesn’t come with baggage and trauma. Someone who’s not a mother that can barely keep her shit together for her own kid. You don’t deserve to fix somethingyoudidn’t break.” His jaw clenches, but I push on. “This is what you want? A woman who attracts shit like this?”
“Yes,” he bites without hesitation. “What the hell are you so scared of Winnie? Why are you running from this?”
“You!” I bite out, “I’m scared of you!”
“Why?”
“Because I love you.” A sob rushes up and racks my body as I finally utter those three words. “I love you so much it feels like I can’t fucking breathe. But how can I ask you to stay and fix something you didn’t break? What if we did do this? What if it’s amazing? Or, what if one day, you wake up and decide Brinley and I are not what you want anymore?”
Because it wasn’t just me he’d be leaving. It’d be Brinley, too. Can we survive it a second time? If it’s Wyatt, I don’t think so.
“Is that what you think?” he asks, disbelief and anger radiating off him, “That it’ll be too much for me?”
My breath hitches.
“I missed her first steps. Her first words. I wasn’t there for the late nights, the diapers, the milestones. But I want to be here for everything else. The tantrums, the scraped knees, the bedtime stories. I want to coach her first T-ball game and let her paint my nails after. I want all the firsts that I can have.” Wyatt squeezes my hands. “Ineedthem. Because I love her—just as much as I love you. I may not have been there at the start, but now? I’mhere now, and I’m not going anywhere.”
“You love us, too?” My brows furrow, and my voice trembles. There’s no hesitation or hidden agenda. There’s no obligation orforce behind the way he says it. It’s raw and sincere. Something inside me splinters at the revelation. Relief, maybe. I let the tears that have been building shatter free once more, and when he pulls me into his arms, I fall without pretest. Wyatt leans his head against mine without any hesitation he says, “Always.”
He holds me like he never plans to let me go, and I believe him.
Chapter Forty-Two
WHITNEY
Fresh sawdust and warm earth might just be my favorite smell. It’s been nearly a month since Wyatt and I made things official—and since we watched our lives quite literally burn to the ground. Now, we’re outside watching as it slowly begins to take shape again. It’s not finished yet. Exposed beams and raw wood still make up half of the house—but it’s ours.
Wyatt had the construction crew lined up before the smoke even fully cleared. Thankfully, there wasn’t as much damage as we thought there was. Wesley and Haden are both on-site every day with a hammer in hand, too. The space will be done in no time. For the meantime, we’re staying with Wyatt’s mom. She’s more than ecstatic about that to say the least.
Bell’s Coffee Shop will still be out of commission for a while longer. We’re building the original building from the ground up. I hate not having that small part of my life back yet, but I also want this time around to be perfect. It will be the same coffee shop, just a little…different.But different is good. It’s even welcomed nowadays.
I shift my weight in the saddle, glancing down the hill. Wyatt is at the bottom, chasing Brinley in wide circles around the half-built porch. She’s squealing and belly laughing as her arms flail around.
This version of my life seemed so far-fetched; it still feels like I’m dreaming. My chest squeezes when Wyatt finally catches up to Brinley. She waves around a white rock she scooped up like a trophy. Wyatt plucks it from her hand and pretends to inspect it. “A rare gem,” he declares. “We must get this into a museum as soon as possible.”
Her giggles echo across the field. Vivienne rides up beside me on one of our new horses. I’ve been giving her riding lessons for the past few weeks, and she’s been killing it. It’s been great exercise for us both, and an excuse to see each other more often than not. She tucks a piece of hair back into her ponytail as she shoots me a teasing grin, “You two ever gonna move in, or are you just gonna keep camping at your mothers-in-law’s?”
I grin. “What can I say? I like the free coffee and built-in babysitter.”
My sister huffs a laugh, her grin as genuine as it is heart-warming. It’s been that way since the fire. More steady and strong. We’re finally working towards that sisterhood we didn’t have growing up. “We’re thinking about hosting Christmas,” I add. “If the floors are done by then.”
“Good. It’d be nice to have everyone get together again.”
