That version had been based on the man who had always been there, even if he’d been distracted. Who’d showed her such patience when teaching her about the Bishop business. Who believed in her enough to want her to take over. Who cared for her enough to show her how.
It hadn’t considered the distractions when he was around. The focus on the business. She’d only seen her father’s priorities after she’d discovered his affair. Realising that had opened her eyes to all of his weaknesses. And that had thrown her life into disarray.
Because she’d seen what she’d wanted to.
She’d done the same thing with Wyatt. Her actions in her marriage had been because she’d thought she knew how things would go. She’d projected so much of her father onto Wyatt she hadn’t given him a chance to prove her wrong. She’d seen what she’d wanted to and acted according to that. His unexpected reaction now proved it.
She was wrong. Had been for so long.
How could she trust herself after that?
Her eyes fluttered to Wyatt’s face, and she knew with certainty that, subconsciously, she hadn’t trusted herself for the longest time. She’d fooled herself into believing she could because that was how Wyatt made her feel. He saw through the pretence and the hurt. Because of it, she saw through it, too. Enough that she’d agreed to marry him.
But that feeling hadn’t stayed for long. When she’d realised what Wyatt had wanted, needed, she hadn’t trusted herself to be able to give it. And her trust in herself, in her feelings for him, had diminished even more. So she’d used her father’s affair to protect herself. She’d used her own response to it to anticipate what Wyatt’s response might be, as if it were a test.
One she now knew she’d failed.
Her stomach churned. And though, logically, she knew it wasn’t possible, her heart churned, too. It was so disappointed it couldn’t trust its feelings for the man that filled it with warmth. The man it had never stopped loving. The man she’d never stop loving.
But that love didn’t matter because it came from her. She couldn’t trust that she hadn’t fallen in love with someone who might hurt her. And she couldn’t spend her life or their relationship trying to anticipate that hurt. Trying to protect herself from it. Trying to protect herself from herself.
She couldn’t put Wyatt through that either.
‘To think,’ Wyatt said softly, oblivious to her inner turmoil, ‘if you’d told me the truth, we might have still been married.’
She stared at him, and it was as if scales had fallen from her eyes.
‘No,’ she said. ‘I don’t think we would have been.’
‘What?’
‘You said you felt me pulling away from you. Which is true, I did. I didn’t trust that I could give you what you needed from me.’ She paused. ‘But you pulled away from me, too, Wyatt.’
He frowned. ‘I was...responding to you being distant.’
‘I was responding to you being distant,’ she shot back. ‘You know that. But telling the story that way keeps you from being a hypocrite, doesn’t it?’ She didn’t give him a chance to answer. ‘You used your reaction to your parents’ abandonment to anticipate my reaction, too. You thought I’d respond by telling you that you weren’t what I wanted, so you pushed yourself harder to give me the life you thought I wanted.’
She shook her head.
‘But that’s not my point.’
‘You have one?’
She ignored the jibe. ‘If you felt me pulling away, why didn’t you say anything?’
Confusion settled over his features. ‘I thought...it was always going to happen, I guess.’
‘But you tried to keep it from happening.’ She paused. ‘Why not just talk to me?’
‘Are you punishing me?’ he asked after a moment. ‘Because I said you should have talked to me?’
‘No,’ she answered. ‘I think you’re right. I should have spoken to you. If I could go back and change that, I would. But that doesn’t mean we wouldn’t have ended up here.’
He didn’t reply. She sighed.
‘Our relationship wouldn’t have lasted, Wyatt. I can’t be in a relationship. I don’t trust myself. How can I expect to trust you?’ She took a breath. ‘But also because you don’t want to be in the relationship. Not with me, not with anyone.’
CHAPTER SIXTEEN
‘THAT’S NOT TRUE.’ He shook his head vehemently. ‘I asked you to marry me. Of course I wanted to be in a relationship. With you. How did this become about me anyway?’ he asked. ‘How are you blaming me?’
‘We’re both to blame for our relationship ending, Wyatt.’
He shook his head again.
‘You just said you always thought I was going to leave,’ she pointed out. ‘How can you start a relationship expecting that?’ And then she saw it. ‘But you did. That’s why you asked me out after knowing me for a few hours. That’s why you asked me to marry you after knowing me for six months.’ She almost laughed. ‘You were setting our relationship up to fail.’
She waited for a reply. It didn’t come.
‘You didn’t even fight when I asked for the divorce.’
‘I asked you why,’ he said mechanically.
‘And accepted the obvious lie I told you.’
She removed the emotion from her voice, speaking coolly to try and combat the heat in his eyes. She had no intention of fighting with him. She was too tired. Tired of what the conversation had forced her to face. Tired of pretending: to herself, to the world. To Wyatt.
Pretending she didn’t have feelings for him would likely be the death of her.
‘Look, we should probably get back—’
‘We’re not done,’ he interrupted.
‘What more is there to say?’ she asked, no longer keeping the fatigue from her voice.
‘What about an apology?’
‘I’m sorry.’
‘What are you apologising for?’
‘What do you want me to apologise for?’
‘Summer—’
‘No,’ she cut him off. ‘I’m done. We wouldn’t have worked out. I don’t know if I can trust who I think the people I love are and you’re...’ She lifted her eyes. ‘You’re far too afraid of someone leaving you to be fully invested in any relationship.’
‘Why are you saying these things?’ he asked. ‘They’re not true.’
She studied him, saw he believed what he was saying, and threw caution to the wind.
‘Okay, then. Actually, it’s perfect for me because I’m tired of the turmoil of keeping things to myself.’ She paused for a second.
‘I meant what I said on the beach last night. I... I love you. I love your work ethic and your loyalty. I love how freely you give of yourself to other people. For other people. I love how you see me. How you’ve always been able to see me. I love this feeling—’ she pressed a fist to the base of her stomach ‘—right here that heats and trembles whenever I’m near you.’
‘Summer.’
His voice was breathless, his face stricken, and her mouth curved. She walked towards him, rested a hand on his chest, over his heart. Feeling the rapid beat of it, she exhaled shakily.
‘Your heart’s beating much too fast.’ Her hand lowered to his stomach. ‘And there’s panic turning your stomach.’ The hand lifted to his neck. ‘Your throat’s thickening, too.’ She waited a beat. ‘Am I right?’
He nodded.
‘That’s because you don’t want me to be in love with you,’ she whispered. ‘You’re terrified of being in a relationship.’
‘This is not fair,’ he rasped.
She studied him, then rose up on her toes and pressed the lightest of kisses to his lips. The feel of it sank right down to her toes.
‘No, it’s not,’ she said gently. ‘But it is what it is. We weren’t meant to be, Wyatt. We
won’t ever be.’
With the pieces of her heart trailing behind her, she made her way back to the wedding.
* * *
After his conversation with Summer, Wyatt was tempted to let Trevor down.
He wanted nothing more than to go back to his cabin, pack up his things, and return to Cape Town. In fact, he made it halfway to his cabin before sanity prevailed and he dragged himself back to the celebrations.
He couldn’t disappoint Trevor, no matter how strong the temptation was. To him, that felt like proof Summer was wrong. He wasn’t afraid of relationships. He’d had a long, stable one with Trevor for years.
His conscience had chosen that moment to remind him of the caution he’d exercised in that relationship. And how he’d panicked when Trevor had asked him to be in the ceremony. When Summer had told him her father saw him as family.
It might have been proof that he’d forged a relationship over the years, but it also proved that every step he’d taken had felt like a tremendous feat. A compelling argument in favour of Summer’s words.
It had hooked into his brain, that thought—that realisation—so the reception was not a pleasant experience. He managed to avoid most of the chit-chat because of his conversation with Summer, but caught enough to be relieved when dinner was served.
He was seated at the same table as Summer and Autumn, though he’d been relegated to the opposite end of where they sat. Summer studiously avoided his gaze. When he made eye contact with Autumn, she mouthed the word ‘sorry’. He nodded, though he wasn’t sure what she was apologising for. The celebrations dragged out, though the formal part had been mercifully quick, so he had no reason to stay after the dessert was served.
When he was sure no one would notice his departure, he sneaked out of the venue and made it all of five metres before he heard his name. He waited when he turned and saw Autumn running towards him. He waited some more when she caught up with him, but not her breath.
‘Running in sand is really hard,’ she huffed, and his smile grew.
‘Apparently.’
‘Please, have some empathy.’ She braced on her knees, then straightened. ‘Not all of us are perfect human specimens.’
His eyebrows lifted. ‘Was that meant to be a compliment?’
‘It was a compliment, but it’s kind of an insult, too, mainly because your tone suggested you were making fun of me. But it doesn’t matter,’ she said, waving her hand, placing both of her hands on her hips now. ‘I’m not here to give you compliments.’
‘How disappointing,’ he said dryly.
She gave him a look. ‘I wanted to say sorry about the tension during dinner.’
‘It’s not your fault.’
‘I feel like it is,’ Autumn admitted. ‘I told her to tell you the truth... I encouraged you to go after her... I feel like I facilitated it somewhat.’
‘Why?’
‘I told you—’
‘No, I mean why did you tell her to tell me the truth?’ he interrupted.
‘Oh.’ She frowned. ‘You guys still have feelings for one another.’
‘I don’t—’ He broke off. ‘I don’t have feelings for her.’
Autumn’s eyebrows lifted so high he was surprised they didn’t disappear into her hair.
‘Oh. I didn’t realise we were ignoring the real world,’ she commented. ‘But her annoyance with you kind of makes sense now. She tells you she loves you, and—’
‘She told you that?’ he asked, his heart doing a strange skip in his chest. ‘She told you she loves me?’
‘Yes. Not that she had to,’ Autumn said. ‘She’s never stopped loving you.’ She made a face. ‘Why are you pretending not to know this?’
‘She said she loves me,’ he replied slowly. ‘She didn’t say she’s always loved me.’
Autumn snorted. ‘Were your moves that good this weekend you thought you’d convinced her into falling in love with you again?’
He didn’t know what to say.
She laughed, then her face sobered. ‘Look, I know things are complicated. But the thing with my father, and the secret? It hurt her. We hurt her.’ Autumn’s face tightened. ‘Despite that, she still told you she loved you. Tell me you don’t think that means something.’
He couldn’t.
Not that it mattered. He’d dealt with everything so poorly. Part of that had been because he’d wanted to tell her he loved her too.
He took a deep breath. ‘You don’t have to apologise,’ he said to Autumn. ‘None of this is your fault. Not really.’
She threaded her fingers together.
‘I know I’m going to be out of line with this, but if you do have feelings for Summer—’ her tone made it clear she believed he did ‘—you should prove it to her. Be there for her. Prove you are who she thinks you are.’
He nodded, but things were happening in his body again. The same things Summer had pointed out when she’d said she loved him. The pumping heart, the panicked stomach, the thickening throat. He ignored them and said goodnight to Autumn before making his way back to his cabin.
It was a peaceful walk, mainly because all the lodge’s guests were still celebrating at the beach. It had taken him a while to realise no one other than the Bishop party was staying at the lodge for the weekend. But then, the Bishops were known for their wealth just as much as they were for their close-knit family. He supposed that was part of what upset him about Summer’s secrets.
His entire career at Bishop Enterprises, he’d idolised Trevor Bishop. Not only because of what the man had done for him, but because of what Trevor had achieved. He’d turned the company his father had started into one worth billions. All with a solid marriage and a happy family in tow.
Except hearing about Trevor’s affair hadn’t surprised him. Wyatt didn’t care much for the moral implications of it, but he wasn’t surprised. Which told Wyatt he’d suspected the life he’d idolised Trevor for couldn’t be real. It proved he’d been after an illusion. An unattainable idea. Just as Summer had said.
Had he been so desperate for a better life than what he’d grown up with that he’d made up the one he was working towards? Or had he just allowed that illusion to obscure how much he wanted a family?
A little of both, he thought, though it was the last one that stung. It forced him to recognise what longing for a father-son, mother-son relationship meant. It forced him to face how much his parents had hurt him by leaving. How much Summer had hurt him by leaving.
Facing it made him realise how upset he was with himself. For creating the illusion. For believing it existed. He knew it didn’t. But he’d needed to believe it did to get him out of the hole he’d been in during university.
He saw that now, clearly. Which meant he knew that part of why Summer had left had been valid. If she’d told him the truth, he would have been disillusioned sooner. Or he would have had to face the truth sooner. Would it have caused him to devolve into angry, aimless Wyatt? He didn’t know. He supposed that uncertainty had prompted Summer into avoiding even the risk of it.
But if there’d been something inside him that had believed the idea didn’t exist, shouldn’t it have steered him away from relationships? It might not have been conscious, but considering his own relationship experiences, shouldn’t he have run away from Summer?
You were setting our relationship up to fail.
Summer’s words echoed in his head. They had that same heartbreaking quality to them as when she’d said them the first time. He’d been offended by the accusation then. He’d been angry and not thinking straight, and his instinct had been to lash out. But she was right. And so was he. There had been something that had steered him away from relationships. It hadn’t been conscious, or mature, and so it had manifested itself in exactly the way Summer had said.
He had set their relationship up to fail.
He reached his cabin as that thought allowed a flood of emotions, of questions in. The last thing he wanted as that happened was to be confined between four walls. Before long, he found himself on the path leading down to the beach where he’d kissed Summer what felt like a lifetime ago.
It seemed right to be there. This was where things had changed between him and Summer. Or had that happened that night on the bridge, where he’d seen her vulnerable for the first time since she’d asked for a divorce? Where he’d allowed himself to be vulnerable for the first time since telling her about his parents?
Perhaps that was why he hadn’t stopped feeling since that night. He’d opened the door and had forgotten to close it. Or had been unable to close it. Spending time with Summer seemed to have that effect. It scared him. Same as when he’d fallen in love with her all those years ago.
He’d gone into defence mode then. Or self-destruct mode. And he’d sabotaged his relationship with her. He’d proposed after six months of dating. He’d told her about his parents knowing it would change things for him. He’d spent their marriage pursuing a life he knew didn’t exist. He’d let her down, countless times.
His heart ached at the way he’d treated her. Though he supposed there was something significant about that. He’d never felt the need to sabotage his relationships with other women in the same way. Not that he’d stuck around long enough to. His longest relationship before his marriage had been a year and he’d spent more than half that time travelling for work. He hadn’t even considered feelings then. Now he saw he’d purposely orchestrated his life so he wouldn’t have to.
Then Summer had come along. What he’d felt for her had been different. More intense. Scary. Instead of taking a step back and dealing with that fear, he’d identified all the exits and sped through the closest one when she’d presented it as an option. Hell, he hadn’t only identified exits, he’d built them. Because of that fear.
That fear that had awoken in his veins when his father had left. That had taken residence when his mother had gone to rehab for the first time. That had dug in its roots and grown freely every time he’d had to go into foster care. That had overtaken everything when he’d come home that day and realised his mother had left for good.
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