Page 80 of Say You Want Me
Breathe, Angie. Do not play into this. It’s anger and part of the process. Remember that.
“No. We’re going to talk. I think you should tell me why you’re not sleeping. I can’t know what’s going on in your head when you won’t talk to me.”
His light brown eyes study my face. I won’t crack or back down. I need him to talk to me. If he doesn’t, this will never be resolved. So I hold strong. I glare right back at him, hoping to instigate an actual conversation.
“You wanna know?” he taunts.
“Yes.”
He laughs. “All right, darlin’. I’ll tell you why I can’t sleep. Because when I close my fucking eyes, I see you dying in front of me. I remember what it felt like to find out that our little girl died. Then, I see your face when I told you Faith was gone. I see every goddamn minute and every goddamn tear you’ve shed. I can’t be around you, because each time, it’s all there again. I don’t want to sleep, because it’s a horror movie that won’t stop playin’. Is that what you want to know? I can’t look at you, Angie!”
That hurts more than I care to admit. I know I’m supposed to be levelheaded, but I slip.
“So this is my fault?” I stand with my arms wrapped around my stomach. “I’m causing you this pain?” Tears rush forward as his words cut me deep.
He’s on his feet in a second. “No!” he bellows. “It’s my fault! I was driving that car. I didn’t get you out fast enough to save her. I didn’t see the deer. None of this is your fault! But God! I can’t look at you and not see it all! Don’t you see? Don’t you see this is killing me?”
I hold back every tear that wants to escape. He’s finally talking, and I’m going to keep him going as long as I can. I know he’s struggling with guilt. I can feel it in the air. I wont let him sink. I’m trying to cling to him, and he’s got his arm out so far I can’t touch him.
“It was an accident! A horrible, horrible accident! One that took so much from us!” I can’t stop the tears now. “It wasn’t your fault! It wasn’t anyone’s fault!” Wyatt starts to walk away, but I rush after him. “Don’t walk away, Wyatt. Don’t do this, don’t walk away from me.”
He stops moving at my pleas. “I need to get out of here.”
“No!” I yell. “No more hiding. This isn’t you! This isn’t the man I’ve spent the last three months with. It was anaccident.”
He scoffs. “You can’t believe that. I see it in your eyes. I see how you look at me now.”
My hand covers my mouth. He’s nuts. “I don’t blame you! Not one time have I ever said losing Faith was your fault. Not once have I even thought it. It was a deer! A deer ran into our car on the cold, wet road. It wasn’t your fault!” I walk toward him, but he steps back. “You can’t even let me touch you.” The words aren’t an accusation, they’re the truth. “You haven’t hugged me, kissed me, slept next to me, or anything since the burial.”
His eyes fill with tears. “I can’t.”
“Oh,” I say with pain layered on that one syllable. He can’t touch me? Me? I need his touch. I’ve fallen for him, and now he can’t bear to be around me. Everything is wrong. This isn’t how it’s meant to be.
It’s my worst fear come to fruition. I believe that at some point, Wyatt Hennington fell in love with me. I felt it every time he looked at me. But now he looks at me with something else. It’s not love and affection. He’s not hot and cold, he’s just . . . frozen.
“I’ll be back later,” Wyatt says as he turns away. “I have to check on the horses.”
I don’t think that’s true, but I’m too shocked to protest. I’ve pushed him too far. He grabs his sweatshirt and keys. Before he walks out the door, I finally reply. “I’ll be here.”
He pauses as he’s halfway out the door. “For now,” he says and then the door shuts.
The air is forced from my lungs, tears fall, and I lose it.
I’m not sure how much a heart can withstand before it gives out completely.
“Hey, Angie,” Grace says with surprise. “I didn’t think I’d see you already.”
I couldn’t sit in that house another minute. Wyatt was gone, and I don’t have a car, so when Trent came by to check in on me, I talked him into driving me here. Of course, he very indiscreetly made a phone call when I was demanding he take me to the bakery. The conversation lasted a few minutes with Trent whisper-yelling as I got ready. I couldn’t hear what he said, but Wyatt either didn’t care or didn’t argue with his brother. Seems he’s being a dick to everyone.
Trent tried to convince me to stay home, but I demanded he take me or I was calling his mama.
Here I stand.
“Yeah,” I say flippantly. “I was bored. I’d rather be here than staring at the same four walls.”
Grace nods. “I understand that. I can’t imagine sittin’ around all day. I’d go out of my mind,” she laughs. “How are you feelin’?”
“Still a little sore. I go to the doctor tomorrow for my post-op check-up. Otherwise, I’m breathing.”
