Page 40 of Billionaire Unreachable: Wyatt

“No other close family,” he said, his voice cracking with emotion. “But I’ve met a few people at the shelter who are nice to me. They were military at one time, too.”

“I didn’t know that you were in the military,” I mused.

He nodded, but didn’t raise his head. “Got out a long time ago, but it’s still nice to talk to some guys who understand what that life was like.”

“Fred told me that he gave you a referral for free counseling. Have you had a chance to meet up with someone there?” I asked curiously.

Fred was one of the volunteers who came here daily and had been donating his time to The Friendly Kitchen since the day it opened years ago. He knew the regulars much better than I did. The man also knew every free service available in the city to help the people who came here.

“Not yet,” Ted answered. “I’m not sure I really want to talk about it right now.”

I understood that. Everyone grieved at a different speed and in their own way. There had been a time when I’d wanted to ignore my parents’ deaths, but I’d eventually been ready to see someone to talk about losing my parents.

My Aunt Millie had never pushed on me to face the truth until I was ready.

“Do you still have that information available in case you start to feel like you’re ready?” I questioned softly.

“It’s at the shelter,” he confirmed.

I squeezed his hand. “Good. I think you’ll know when you’re ready.”

“Do you think so?” he asked hopefully.

“I know so,” I reassured him. “Be patient with yourself. You’ve been through a lot and you’ve lost a lot.”

“Thanks, Shelby,” he said as I let go of his hand so I could get up and check on other diners.

I smiled at him and nodded as I pushed the chair I’d been sitting in closer to the table. “Let me know if you need anything else, Ted.”

He picked up his fork. “I’ll just eat this. It really is good.”

Contentment settled over me as I watched him start to eat his food, and I moved on to chat with other people in the dining room.

Small steps, Shelby. Be happy with small steps forward.

Volunteering here could be frustrating at times.

What we were doing at The Friendly Kitchen didn’t seem like enough when so many people were suffering, many of them veterans and the elderly, but it wassomething.

Aunt Millie used to remind me that I couldn’t change the world overnight.

I’d learned to celebrate my smaller accomplishments when it came to volunteer work.

It felt good to be doing whatever I could do with the skills I had to help others who didn’t have the luxury of an amazing family or a decent job that paid well when things went to hell for them.

I was chatting with a woman and her three kids when my phone vibrated in the pocket of my jeans.

I stepped away and smiled when I saw the text.

Wyatt:Do you want me to bring home dinner?

It was early. He probably hadn’t left the office yet, but he was still thoughtful enough to think about handling dinner so I didn’t have to do it.

People could say what they wanted about Wyatt Durand, but he really wasn’t a heartless jerk.

Maybe he wanted people to believe that he was, but I’d gotten more than a glimpse of his kinder side, and I was getting so used to his gruff exterior that I could easily blow it off.

Yeah, okay, so maybe he wasn’t exactly warm and fuzzy, but he was a decent man, just like my cousins were underneath their bullshit.

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