Page 109 of Stubborn Heart

But when Wyatt came to a stop in front of me, I beamed up at him and felt nothing warm in return. My stomach dropped at the look on Wyatt’s face. He seemed disturbed, worried.

I’d always known Wyatt to be a confident man, and the one staring back at me now was the very opposite of that. He was terrified.

Somehow, through the painful tightening in my throat, I managed to rasp, “Wyatt?”

His response did nothing to quell the growing panic. “Can we sit down to talk for a minute? I have something I need to tell you.”

If I thought my voice was strained, it didn’t compare to the absolute agony I heard in Wyatt’s tone.

Even though I wanted to remain calm until I had a real reason to freak out, it was impossible to ignore the horrible churning and trembling in my belly.

I offered a slight nod in return and moved out from behind the counter so Wyatt and I could grab a seat together. And as I did that, at least half a dozen questions popped into my head.

What did he need to tell me? Exactly how bad was it? Would our relationship survive whatever this news was?

Before I could even think about answers to any of those questions, more popped into my head. And by the time we sat down across from one another, I was a shaking, trembling mess of nerves.

The only thing that made me happy at the moment was the fact that, with the exception of Wyatt and me, my shop was empty. And for once, I was desperately hoping nobody else intended on coming in for ice cream until this, whatever it was, was over.

Wyatt reached across the table and cradled both of my fidgety hands in his steady ones. I wanted to latch onto that, onto the quiet steadfastness that could be found in the warm hold of his hands.

But I couldn’t.

Because for several beats, he did nothing but hold my hands while his eyes search my face in despair. I grew more and more concerned by the minute, convinced that whatever this was would be the end of us.

It terrified me.

Devastated me.

And it hadn’t even happened yet.

“Wyatt, please,” I begged, my voice barely a whisper.

Hearing those two words and the anguish in my voice seemed to snap Wyatt out of whatever thoughts were running through his mind, because he blinked his eyes as though attempting to clear his head. Then he sucked in a deep breath before he said, “I’d like to think I’ve worked extremely hard to prove to you that I’m a man who can be trusted.”

This already felt worse than just bad news. This felt like it was going to be catastrophic.

Despite the overwhelming sense of doom and gloom I felt, I still needed to know what he had to share. And because I couldn’t refute the words he’d just given to me, I simply dipped my chin to confirm.

“Knowing what it took to gain that trust, I need you to know I would not ever do something to intentionally betray you, Rhea,” he continued, his voice thick with emotion.

Oh my God.

Did he? Was it possible?

Unable to stand it any longer, I blurted out the biggest question flashing in my mind. “Did you cheat on me?”

It seemed the only plausible explanation for what this could all be about.

Wyatt jerked back uncomfortably in his seat, and my heart was in my throat. Before he could respond to me, the door to the shop opened.

My parents walked in.

Never in a million years did I think I would ever kick my family out of my shop, but I was on the verge of complete collapse at whatever news Wyatt needed to share with me. So, I stood, yanking my hands from Wyatt’s grasp, and took a few steps away from the table.

“Mom, Dad, I’m sorry, but would you mind coming back later?” I asked.

I thought my parents would grow concerned about why I was asking them to leave, but it was like they hadn’t heard me.

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