Page 118 of Win Big

“I don’t want to lose contact with Owen.”

She flinches a little, but nods again. “I understand.”

“I’m sorry, Heather.”

She wipes her cheek. “Don’t apologize for falling in love. I won’t apologize to you for that. You’re a good man—honorable and loyal. You’ve always been there for us. I probably should have just kept how I feel about you to myself.” Her shaky smile is rueful. “If you love her... if you have a chance at a happy ever after... go for it. You deserve it.”

I’m in awe of her generosity. I know how much love hurts. I hate it that she’s hurting. I never wanted that to happen. But I never wanted to fall in love with Everly either, and it happened.

“Hank would appreciate everything you’ve done for us,” she continues. “He really would have, Wyatt. I know you feel guilty about what happened. But I also know Hank doesn’t blame you.”

My throat closes up.

“Idon’t blame you,” she adds quietly. “You don’t owe us anything. I wish you would get over that.”

Christ. My face tightens, pressure building behind my eyes.

“I also know he wouldn’t want you to sacrifice your whole life for us.”

I let that sink in. Emotion fills my chest. Hank’s not here. But yeah... I think she’s right.

I move to her, set my hands on her shoulders, and kiss her forehead. “You’re a good person,” I choke out. “And a great mom.” I turn away, clearing my throat. “Hey, Owen, buddy! I have to go. Come say goodbye.”

He bounces in, a cracker in his hand. “I thought you were staying to eat.”

“I can’t after all. But I’ll see you soon.” I give him a big hug.

I jog out to my vehicle and jump in. It’s late Saturday afternoon. Everly should be home.

I don’t know if there’s a happy ending for us, like Heather said. But I do know I have to go to her. I have be there for her, dealing with something like this.

I imagine her having one of her panic attacks, dizzy and nauseous, all alone. What can I do for her? She liked the back rub. And she likes Slurpees...

I choose my route so I drive by the 7-Eleven near Everly’s place. I wheel in there and fill up a giant Slurpee cup with lemonade slush.

With my phone in one hand and the Slurpee in the other, I ring Everly’s doorbell.

I shift from one foot to the other as I wait for her to answer. Maybe she’s not home after all. Maybe she’s at the office in some kind of PR meeting, trying to deal with this shit.

The door opens.

She stares at me.

Christ, she’s beautiful. Her dark hair is all shiny, her face glowing. She’s wearing a pair of cropped leggings and a long, loose sweatshirt, her feet bare.

“Wyatt.” She blinks those gorgeous long eyelashes. “What... are you doing here?”

“I was worried about you,” I blurt out. “I saw the news.”

“Oh.”

“I brought you this.” I hand her the Slurpee.

She drops her gaze to it, reaches out to take it, then looks back at me. The corners of her mouth lift. “In case I’m having a panic attack?”

“Yeah.” I chomp down on my bottom lip. “Are you okay?”

“I’m fine. Pissed, but fine. Come in.”

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