Page 101 of When Stars Fall

“I came to see you that night when the story broke,” I whisper, thinking back to the room. If there’d been the sharp tang of alcohol on his breath or in the air, I’d have noticed. Or maybe not. Too much swirled in my brain, and if I should have noticed he’d been drinking, I didn’t.

“Yeah, you did. So you know I wasn’t drunk. Hell, Ellie, you didn’t even notice. The smell is why the balcony door was open.” He traces patterns on my back.

My mind ticks through this information. When Wyatt and I were together, alcohol went hand in hand with drugs. To me, they’re inseparable. “When you came to the island, you were hoping we’d get back together, right?”

“Yes.” He tenses under me, his hand stilling.

“Is that still what you want? After everything?”

“It’s the only thing I’ve wanted for years. That fight is the biggest regret of my life. I was too afraid to go after you. But I’m not afraid anymore. I’ll burn my life down to keep you and Haven.”

“Would you do an alcohol treatment program? The length doesn’t matter—thirty days, sixty days, whatever.” Maybe he’s fine and doesn’t need it. But maybe he’s still not being honest about his dependence. If we’re traveling this route together, I need to be sure. In the future, if I ask him to get help, I must be certain he’ll do it.

He tightens his grip on me and kisses the top of my head again. He’s still tracing idle patterns on my back in silence. Under my ear, his heart races.

“Wyatt?” I lift my head. A shot of anxiety goes through me that he won’t agree, and I’ll be back to where I was ten years ago.

“Okay, Ellie. I’ll readjust my schedule, and I’ll go.” He stares down at me and then he hauls me up his body, so our lips are mere inches apart. “What does this mean? Are you saying we can try again?”

“There are still some things to be worked out.” My practical side can’t give in just yet. “Anna, Jamal, where we’d live . . . They’re not small things.”

He rolls us so I’m pressed into the mattress with him above. “Sounds like a yes.” His lips dip into my neck.

“I haven’t told you what I need to tell you.” My voice shakes.

“What’s wrong?” He raises his head, his brow creased. “Isn’t this the part where we get to be happy?”

“I think, maybe, hopefully, really happy.”Deep breath, Ellie. “I’m pregnant.”

Wyatt, still above me, scans me for any sign of teasing. “You’re . . . pregnant?” His expression is tortured. “How do I ask this without sounding like a complete and utter asshole? Either way—I don’t care. We can figure it out. Okay?”

I laugh and raise myself off the pillow to place a quick kiss on his lips. “That’s very comforting. But the baby is yours. The baby couldonlybe yours.”

His shoulders collapse, and he closes his eyes. “Oh, thank God.” His eyes pop back open. “Not that I wouldn’t have lovedanychild who was half of you.”

I giggle and bring his mouth to mine. “I thought you might be upset with me.”

He shakes his head, and he kisses me again. “Never. Never. Shit, I should have remembered protection too. I’m sorry, but I’m not sorry.” His hand eases between us to touch my stomach. “A baby?”

“A baby.” The joy I’ve been too afraid to experience surges through me. On top of that is a sense of relief. He’s getting help for his drinking, he’s open to talking about Anna’s situation, and he hasn’t freaked out about the pregnancy.

He slips a hand under my thin cotton tank top. He pushes the covers off us, and very gently, he kisses a line along the top of my shorts. “My child.” There’s so much reverence in his voice. Tears spring to my eyes.

“Wyatt.” I thread my fingers through his hair. We have to discuss what we’re doing about Anna.

As though something’s just occurred, he stills. “If you weren’t pregnant”—his lips whisper across my stomach—“would we still be trying again?”

I frame his face to force him to make eye contact. “You think the baby is the only reason I’m agreeing to try to have another relationship with you?” My thumb grazes his rough stubble.

“Who knows, Ellie? Even when I’mdoingthe right thing, itfeelslike the wrong thing.”

Many people have told Wyatt they loved him and then betrayed him. Given his job and his status in the industry, I saw this when we were together, and gained a mild distrust of everyone, just like he had. We never knew who was going to sell us out next. We clung to each other more times than we blew apart. Lifeboats in the chaos, tied to each other for safety.

Leaving LA and Wyatt meant I left most of the chaos behind, but Wyatt didn’t. He drifted on the currents of those stormy seas for years, abandoned. I’m amazed he survived. Looking at him now, I realize what I’ve denied for weeks, months . . . years.I love him. He won my heart years ago, maybe even that first night in the limo. I tried to give pieces of it to other people. Those fragments were never mine to give. When I left him, I got to keep half my heart, and I named that piece Haven, but the other half? He’s had it. It’s always been here, in his arms, in his eyes, in the light inside me when he’s around.

A familiar tide rises in my chest, the one I’ve been running from for ten years. There’s no more running. The swell pushes up, breaking the dam I constructed. I’m free, unguarded, whole.

“I love you, Wyatt. I’ve never stopped loving you. I knew if I saw you, I wouldn’t be able to tear myself away. The reason I couldn’t see you wasn’t just because of Haven; it was me, too. I loved you too much to leave you again.”

---