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17
WYATT
She was there. I could still feel her all around me. I could hardly believe she had come home. After weeks of missing her—weeks of feeling sick with sadness—she was back. I felt whole again.
Turning, I slid my hand across the sheets, reaching for her. Once again, I found the sheets cold and empty. I rushed from the bed and into the bathroom, hoping she was in there, but it was like Deja vu. Finding an empty house after the night we had shared was like a dagger to my chest.
No more.
Not again.
I couldn’t dial her number fast enough. As soon as she answered, I went in on her.
“What the hell, Allison? It’s not okay for you to show up, fuck me, and then leave in the morning like nothing happened. I can’t take much more of this shit.”
There was silence on the line, and then she shocked me when she burst out laughing.
“What’s funny?”
“Nothing. Listen, I’m sorry, okay. Forget it happened.”
“I won’t. Get back here now. I’m not playing these games with you anymore.”
“I can’t yet. Just give me a bit more time. We need to concentrate.”
“On what? Our priorities? I told you I love you, and you just left. Do you not want to be with me?”
Again, there was silence.
“Of course, I want to be with you, Wyatt.” She sighed in the phone as if she was annoyed. “The word love scares me if I'm being honest.”
“What? You had no problem hearing or saying it before and last night. What’s changed?”
“I have. Look, I’ll be home soon. It’s just nerves. Don’t worry about me. I’ll be fine. Everything’s fine.”
And then she hung up, dismissing me as though I was nothing yet again.
There I was, with her scent still on my skin, once again playing the broken-hearted man. I wasn’t sure how much longer I could do this with her. I wanted Allison. I loved her more than I ever thought was possible, but what she was doing wasn’t fair. It was about so much more than getting the family company now. I didn’t give a shit about that. I only cared about her. I only wanted her.
