Page 48 of Sweet Escape
Being surrounded by Wilder’s family makes me miss my parents, but I don’t know how to fix what’s broken between us.
I knew there might be some issues with Wilder’s family, but I never thought my dad would take it out on me the way he did. It was jarring to experience this other side of him when he’s always treated me with the utmost care, shitty birthdays notwithstanding. Time heals all wounds sounds like a load of bullshit when Dad’s wounds have so clearly festered into something toxic.
I didn’t intend for my mom to get caught in the crossfire, and I said some things I wish I could take back. I won’t lie and say I regret standing up for myself. If I’ve learned anything since this Jake and Amber thing, it’s that I need to stop allowing myself to be trampled on. Old Olivia would’ve taken it all in stride. New Olivia is taking no shit.
“Hey, Pretty Girl,” Wilder murmurs against the shell of my ear, sneaking up on me near the paddock where I’ve been watching Storm gallop against the wind. His arms come around my waist, and I relax into him. “I was wondering where you disappeared to.”
“Needed a minute.”
I feel his eyes on me, but I don’t dare look. “Everything okay?”
“Yeah. Just missing my mom.”
“Have you called her?”
“I don’t know what to say.”
“Start with hello and go from there. Apologize if you think it’ll help. It’s not worth this stress, honey. It’s not good for you or the baby. Somebody has to be the first to reach out. Might as well be you or it’s going to eat you alive until you do.”
“You’re right. Ugh. How are youalwaysright?”
One hand leaves my body, and when I glance up, I see him holding out his phone in selfie mode. “Can you say that again? I want to get it on video in case you change your mind someday.”
I elbow him in the ribs, and he grunts.
“I hate you,” I say.
“No, you don’t.” He flashes the rare, genuine smile he usually reserves for Emmy, and it shoots straight down to the pit of my stomach. His fingertips trace the contour of my ear as he tucks back a lock of my hair. He scans my face with something like awe in his expression, and he leans in the barest amount.
A rush of footsteps on gravel breaks us apart, and when I pop my head over Wilder’s shoulder, a tiny body is barreling toward us. Wilder crouches down to catch her, but she runs right past him into my legs.
“Livie!” Emmy squeals, swapping out the L for a W.
She flaps her grabby hands, and I pick her up, settling her on my hip. “Hey birthday girl. Are you having a good day?”
“Uh-huh.” She nods, resting her head against my chest and popping her thumb into her mouth.
Wilder looks on with a mix of sadness and awe, and I can’t help but wonder what’s going through his head. At the sound of stampeding hooves, I turn and face the paddock where Storm is galloping next to a larger jet black horse.
“That’s Maverick,” Wilder says. “The suspected baby daddy.”
“He’s beautiful.”
“He is. And stubborn as a mule.”
“So, he’s you in horse form?”
“Something like that,” he says, amusement evident in his voice. “Storm is a lot like you. Treat motivated, affectionate, easily distracted.” Storm whinnies as she course corrects and barrels in the opposite direction, like she heard and she’s offended.
“I’m choosing to ignore that last remark on behalf of both meandStorm.”
Disregarding my subtle warning, he continues in a more subdued tone. “Beautiful. A little wild. And I know she’s going to be thebestmom.” He strokes a hand over Emmy’s head before kissing her on the cheek, then doing the same to me. It’s a simple gesture, but it still makes my heart leap all the same.
His palm slides into the back pocket of my jeans, caging Emmy between us as we continue watching the horses while the faint sounds of the partygoers float through the barn.
“Thank you,” he says. “For all of it. Today was so much more than I could’ve ever dreamed up for her. I couldn't have done it without you.”
“I wouldn’t want to be anywhere else.”
