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“He’s gone.”
The words hung in the air between us for several moments.
The air between us seemed to still even though the rest of the world continued to move around us. My vision was blurred around the edges, the only solid thing was Wyatt. Sounds – the click and clatter for cutlery being used, laughter and incoherent conversations - became muted as if coming from a great distance.
I nodded slowly and held his hand tighter in mine. We were frozen in time as we sat there. Wyatt didn’t move. I rubbed my thumb back and forth across the back of his hand and waited.
I would wait as long as he needed. And longer still.
He suddenly stood up. His chair scraped loudly on the floor. The sound drew the attention of some of the other diners but I didn’t care. My sole focus was Wyatt and what he needed.
Our hands broke apart with the move, the connection between us severed.
I followed his movement and tried to grab his hand again. He didn’t let me.
“I need to get home,” he said in the way of explanation, the words emotionless.
I didn’t know it then, but these were the last words he would speak to me in quite a while. Wyatt didn’t say anything again until we were at his house.
He didn’t look at me, opting to train his eyes over my shoulder. He just turned and walked out of the restaurant.
I made to go after him but the sight of the waiter reminded me of our bill. I paid the charges and ran after Wyatt.
Wyatt was waiting for me next to his car. In the empty parking lot, he was a desolate figure.
“I can drive,” I said softly when I caught up with him.
He held the keys in his hands, but he was shaking. I was afraid he was too upset to drive. I tried to take the keys from him, but he jerked away from me and shook his head.
I backed off and let him climb into the driver’s seat. Walking around the other side, I took a few deep breaths and tried to hold myself together.
I had met Wyatt’s dad plenty of times before, but he was away so often that we hadn’t gotten a chance to bond. Still, I felt his loss like a brick in my stomach.
I couldn’t imagine how Wyatt must have felt in that moment or how his mom would survive it. All I could think about was how to be there for them both. I pulled open the car door and climbed inside, determined to do whatever I could to help.
We drove quickly through town.
Wyatt didn’t slow down until he pulled into his driveway. He ran inside and I followed.
Wyatt’s mom was sitting at the kitchen table. She had her cellphone in front of her, but she wasn’t looking at it. Instead, she stared out of the kitchen window with silent tears streaming down her face.
All I could think when I saw her was that she was the picture of heartbreak. If an artist tried to capture the image of a broken heart, Mrs. Murphy would had been it.
I ached for her. I took a step forward, but Wyatt was faster. He flew across the room and knelt down beside his mom. She didn’t speak, but she turned to look at him. Wyatt pulled her against him and held her while she cried.
My eyes were glued to Wyatt’s face the whole time. I could hear Mrs. Murphy sniffing and sobbing, but I couldn’t bring myself to look away from her son. Wyatt was my boyfriend and I loved him. It was his job to take care of his mom, but it was my job to take care of him. The only problem was I didn’t know how.
Slowly, I moved across the kitchen and began brewing a pot of coffee. I didn’t know why, it was just an instinct. I
n moments of crisis, people need something to do with their hands. Wrapping them around a warm coffee mug seemed like a good idea.
I made the coffee and carried three mugs to the table. I poured coffee into each mug and slid two across the table to Wyatt and his mom.
“Thank you, Hailey,” Mrs. Murphy said weakly.
She didn’t touch the coffee, but my feelings were not hurt. I didn’t expect her to drink it.
When she finally pulled away from Wyatt, his eyes were still dry. His face was set and hard, not a single sign of pain or weakness shone through. I knew he was putting on a good face for his mom, but I wasn’t sure how long it would last. I wanted to be there when he broke. I wanted to help him through it.
