Page 41

WYNTER

By the time I drag myself up the front steps of my parents’ house, my head is pounding a little less. I’m not about to run a marathon, but at least it no longer feels like my brain is trying to escape through my skull.

I place my hand on the knob, unsure if my parents still leave the door unlocked during the day like they did when I was growing up. I’d rather not have to go crawling back to Joshua’s house with my tail between my legs after accusing him of sleeping with me.

Thankfully, it’s unlocked, and I slip inside, mentally preparing myself for whatever arguments my parents plan to make in Wyatt’s defense. Gary doesn’t even come barreling down the stairs, which means he’s probably glued to Mom’s side. Or eating. Or sleeping.

But as I walk into the living room, I stop dead in my tracks. Am I in the wrong house?

The framed photos that covered nearly every inch of the living room walls last night are gone. The newspaper clippings celebrating Wyatt’s career have been replaced with Christmas cards. His framed jerseys have vanished from the hallway. Even the giant photo of Wyatt on the football field my father had proudly hung above the fireplace is nowhere to be seen.

Instead, my mother stands on a stepladder, replacing all of Wyatt’s photos with different ones. Family vacations. School graduations. Dance recitals.

“What are you doing?” I ask.

Mom startles, her eyes growing wide. “Wynter. You scared me. I didn’t hear you.”

“What’s all this?” I wave my hand around the room.

With a smile, she climbs down from the stepladder. “I figured it was time to do a little redecorating.”

I blink, taken aback.

When I left Joshua’s, I fully expected to walk into another argument about how I was being unreasonable. How I should give Wyatt the benefit of the doubt. How I needed to think about everything I’d lose if I were no longer married to him.

I didn’t expect to find my mother removing every trace of him from their house.

“I’m sorry it took me this long to get around to it.” She pulls me into a hug, and I sink into it, inhaling the floral scent of her perfume.

It’s the smell I’ve associated with home for as long as I can remember. Right now, it’s the most comforting thing in the world.

“And Dad’s okay with this?” I ask, pulling back.

“If he wants to sleep in the same bed as me and eat my cooking, he has no choice but to be okay with it.”

I smile, grateful my mom has my back, even if my father doesn’t. “Where is he?”

“At the school reviewing footage from last night’s game, even though they won and the season’s over.”

I roll my eyes. “Of course.”

Some things never change. Like how my dad will spend the weekend in his office, dissecting every single play. I lost count of the number of dance recitals and competitions he missed because he thought it was more important to review footage from old games instead of watching his own daughter do the one thing she loved.

“Did you stay with Bennett last night?” Mom asks. “I assume that’s where you went after… Well, after you left here.”

“Actually, I didn’t. I slept next door.”

“Really?” Her eyebrows rise.

I shrug, playing it off as if it’s no big deal. Because it isn’t.

“I ran into Joshua at The Leaky Tap, and he drove me home. Since I left the spare keys here, I couldn’t get in the house, so he offered me his guest room.”

“I’m sorry.” She squeezes her eyes shut. “I didn’t realize we’d locked you out. It’s a habit to always lock the door before heading up to bed. Why didn’t you knock or call?”

“It’s probably better I stayed somewhere else, all things considered.” I nod toward a framed photo of my father and Wyatt that’s no longer displayed above the couch. Now it’s leaning against the wall, a roll of bubble wrap beside it.

“Give him time.”