“If you want to take your chances…”
I scoot over to the edge of the roof and hop down. The hard ground breaks my fall, knocking the wind out of me. I roll onto my back for a minute to catch my breath. Moments later there is a hand in front of my face, so I reach for it.
Rough and calloused, there’s only one person it could be helping me up.
Once I’m standing, he doesn’t let go. Instead, he starts walking with purpose, pulling me along.
“Did you jump?” I ask as we’re about to slide into the back seat of Jones’s car.
“I haven’t been afraid of heights for a long time, Chloe.”
With that, I get in and Wyatt shuts my door. Lola is fast asleep in her car seat next to me, the commotion more than her little body can handle. Wyatt gets in on the other side of her and his eyes meet mine as Jones takes off.
“Where are we going?” I ask as he turns away from town.
There’s only one place out here that we could go, and as much as that place means to me, there’s not much we can do there.
“My house,” Wyatt finally says. When I turn to look at him, he’s holding Lola’s tiny hand, stroking the back of it with his thumb.
“You live out here?” I finally ask when Jones takes a familiar turn.
Wyatt nods but says nothing. His focus is on Lola at the moment. She’s fast asleep, and he’s admiring her while he can.
When Jones pulls up to a beautiful house in a familiar location, words escape me. As I get out of the car, the first thing I see is the bench. It’s in the same spot down by the lake as it was the night he gave it to me.
My eyes scan the surrounding area, and I pick up on little differences. For starters, we didn’t have to walk through the woods to get here. There is a long, concrete driveway that leads from the road. Oh, and there’s a large house sitting in the middle of what use to the clearing.
The house itself is a masterpiece.
Two stories, a wraparound porch and tons of windows. Just like I envisioned we would have one day.
That’s when it hits me.
“You live here?” I ask Wyatt, turning to find him observing me, Lola wrapped in his arms.
“Yeah. Let’s go inside.”
As he walks past me, Lola begins to stir, nuzzling her head into his neck. She won’t sleep much longer.
The inside is just as gorgeous as the exterior. It’s the small details. The location of the kitchen. The fact that there’s a fireplace on the wall that faces the pond.
All things I said I wanted.
It’s as if he took my vision and brought it to life. This house is everything I dreamed we would have together. It was our forever home. We were going to raise our four kids here and grow old together watching the sunset over the pond on the wrap around porch.
He did this.
In a way, for me.
Wyatt disappears for a few minutes and when he reappears, Lola is no longer attached to him.
“I put her in my room to sleep. She doesn’t roll does she?”
“Not normally, why?”
“Hardwood floors hurt when you land on them.”
“Oh, she’ll be fine.”
“Not to break up your intriguing conversation,” Addy begins, “but you have bigger problems in your future.”
My focus the last few minutes has been on Wyatt and Lola. I almost forgot we weren’t alone until Addy spoke up.
“What the hell happened? Why do I feel like we’re running for our life? My mother is a scary bitch, but this seems extreme.”
“She told your mom that she met her daddy,” Jones says stepping up behind Addy and wrapping his arms around her waist.
“She couldn’t have figured that out. She’s too young.”
“Chloe, she knows,” Addy emphasizes.
How is this possible? I’ve told her about Wyatt in the past. Anytime she’s asked about him, I’ve gladly answered her questions. I never wanted to keep anything from her or for her to think that I don’t—didn’t—love him. My focus was always to make sure that she knew she came from love, even if we weren’t together anymore.
“It’s not possible. I never told her his name,” I say in disbelief.
“Well, she figured it out somehow. Your mom came over to take her cake away and she was rude to her. Told her that her mommy and daddy said she could have cake while they talked. I’ve never seen your mom’s face pale so quickly. She looked at me and then stormed off. I saw her talking to your father, pointing toward the house. Jones grabbed Lola and I ran to get you. Just as I was about to walk through the back door, I heard her yell.”
Addy stops suddenly, looking over her shoulder to Jones.
“What? What did she yell?” I ask impatiently.
Addy looks past me. I can feel Wyatt behind me, so I don’t bother to turn around.
“Just tell me, Addison. He can handle it. I can handle it.” Squaring my shoulders, I prepare for my mother’s words to smack me in the face. It wouldn’t be the first time.
“Fine, but your mom is a raging bitch when she’s mad.”
“That’s not news to anyone.”
“Do something, Joseph. Your granddaughter knows that piece of shit is her father.”
Sucking in a deep breath, I let it out slowly and that’s when I break. Laughter escapes me, a few giggles at first, but I can’t hold it back. Bending over, I grab my stomach as it explodes from me. I pray for it to pass, knowing all eyes are on me. They probably think I’m losing my mind.
When I hear her tiny voice, my laughter fades.
“What’s so funny, Mama?” Lola asks, her tiny feet making a pitter patter noise as she scurries across the floor to me.
“Nothing, sweetheart. Your grandma is silly. I heard she was mad and yelling at the party and probably embarrassed herself, that’s all.”
After all the lies and stories to keep my pregnancy a secret, my mother ousted herself in front of all her friends. I never saw the need to lie about it. Their reputation didn’t matter to me. But to know that my mother was the reason all their hard work keeping it pristine just went down the drain brings a huge smile to my face.
“Grandma was really mad when I told her who my daddy was. I’m sorry, mama.”
Looking to Wyatt, I smile.
“There’s nothing to be sorry about, sweet girl. Do you remember what I told you about your daddy?”
“Lots of stuff.”
“Do you remember that I told you that you would get to meet him one day?”
“Yes, and you said that when I got to meet him, he would love me like he loved you.”
“Exactly,” I reply as I watch Wyatt’s eyes widen in surprise.
“Would you like to meet your daddy, sweet girl?”
Lola turns around and says, “Momma, you’re silly. My daddy is right there. I already met him.”
“How did you know that, honey?” I ask, eyeing Addy and Jones standing off to my side. She’s a smart little girl, but there’s no way she figured it out without a little help. They both look innocent as they watch the scene before them unfold.
“He loves me. I can tell,” she states and shrugs her shoulders.
Everyone in the room giggles at Lola’s response except Wyatt. He walks over and kneels to her height, brushing her unruly hair from her face.
“Would you like to see my favorite place in the entire world, pretty girl?”
“Ooh, yes, Daddy.”
My heart explodes in my chest when I see tears begin to form in Wyatt’s eyes. Not wanting Lola to see them, he pulls her in and hugs her tight. Mouthing the words “thank you” to me, he leads her out onto the porch.
“You’re doing better than I thought you would be,” Addy says as she rests her head on my shoulder.
We’re watching them through the window, all three of us. I can’t help it. Lola keeps laughing at Wyatt, her tiny body shaking every time.
“I’m okay,” I reply. “A little mad at Jones, though.”
“What the hell did I do?” he asks defensively.
“You never told me you came to Denver. And you let him leave without talking to me. He made assumptions that he’s had to live with. You could have kept that from happening.”
“Um, he’s an asshole sometimes. You know as well as I do that if he doesn’t want to do something, he’s not going to do it. I had to call him over and over again to get him to come to the party. Once his mind is set, it doesn’t change. Why do you think he’s still in love with you?”
Jones’s words slowly fade away as my heart begins to break. He still loves me. As much as I wanted to believe there was a chance, I never thought in a million years that he would still love me. Not the way I love him.
It feels like a lifetime since we’ve seen each other, but I wouldn’t change it for anything.
Five years wishing I was in his arms.
Four people keeping my secret.
Three shitty relationships in an attempt to move on.
Two months spent crying over my loss.
But there’s only one man that could make all that worth it.
The only man I’ll ever love.
Wyatt Beech.
19
Silence speaks volumes
As night begins to fall, Addy and I head into the kitchen and find something to cook for dinner. With our abrupt exit, and Lola’s only meal being cake, we all need to eat.
Jones and Wyatt carry in firewood while Lola watches cartoons. Her laughter carries through the house, warming my heart. Wyatt hasn’t said much to me since they sat out on the porch and talked for almost an hour. There’s been a smile plastered on his face since they came back in, though.
“Something smells good,” Jones comments as he takes a seat at the counter.
“Addy’s quite the cook,” I say, knowing that her skills in the kitchen could put mine to shame any day of the week.
“Oh yeah?” he says, a sly smile spreading across his face.
“Is that so hard to believe?” she asks, stirring the rice.
“Let’s see… crazy smart, incredibly sexy, and a good cook. I think I just fell in love,” Jones remarks.
“Is that all it takes? Good looks and a full belly?” Addy challenges, turning to face him with her hands on her hips.
“Did I mention sexy?”
“You did.”
“Smart?”
“Yep.”
“Well, then, yes that’s all it takes.”
“You’re such an idiot sometimes,” I say, knowing that these two could keep this up all night. As much as I enjoy their banter, it’s making me nauseated.
“What does sexy mean, Mommy?” Lola’s tiny voice catches me off guard, and when I turn, I still can’t see her. Jones reaches down and pulls her onto the stool next to him, her head barely visible over the counter.
“It means that someone likes the way the other person looks,” I explain, giving Addy and Jones a pointed look.
“So Uncle Adam likes the way Aunt Addy looks?”
“Yes, I do. Don’t you think she’s pretty?” Jones asks.
“She’s really pretty. So is Momma. Do you think I’ll be pretty when I grow up?” she asks, her excitement causing Jones to smile from ear to ear.
“I think you’ll be prettier than both of them,” he says. Lola’s face lights up as she jumps down and goes rushing into the other room.
“Daddy, Daddy. Uncle Adam says I’m going to be prettier than Mommy.”
We all have a little laugh before Addy announces that dinner is ready.
The conversation at dinner is spoken in code. For Lola’s sake. She’s a smart kid, but she doesn’t need to know what we’re talking about.
“Sleepover?” Jones asks everyone.
“That sounds like fun,” Addy replies, her face telling a story Lola never needs to hear.
“Arrangements?” I ask, only noticing two bedrooms earlier when I went in search of a bathroom.
“There’s plenty of room,” Wyatt says, unable to make eye contact with me for the first time tonight.
What did I say? I wasn’t trying to insinuate anything. Maybe it’s the code talk. Maybe he’s trying to distance himself from me.
We haven’t talked about what happens next. How to raise Lola together. She’s going to want to see Wyatt, and he’s going to want to be a part of her life. I would never want to get in the way of that.
Will he move to Denver?
Do I need to move home?
Can we make it work long distance? Every other weekend?
God, that makes it seem like we’re divorced. I had friends who spent every other weekend with parents. It sucked for them. I don’t want that for Lola.
Ideally, we’ll live in the same city, or at least closer than we do now.
She deserves to have both of us in her life full time. We need to find a way to make that happen for her. No matter how things work out between us.
If there’s anything on my mind right now, that’s it. Is there still an us?
After dinner, I tuck Lola into Wyatt’s bed, promising her that I’ll be in soon. I want to make sure I’m not putting Wyatt out by staying here. I can go back to my parents’, but I don’t want to and I don’t want to leave Lola.
“Hey,” I say, taking a seat across from him in the living room. “Can we talk?”
Nodding, we leave Addy and Jones cuddled up in front of the fire and head out onto the porch. Just as we’re about to sit down, fireworks go off above us.
“Those must be from my parents’ house,” I comment as another one pops over the pond.
“Your parents are something else,” he says.
“They really are. Can I ask you something?” Wyatt nods so I continue. “How did you get this land?”
My parents’ land. A piece of our history.
“Your father started selling off bits and pieces of land a few years back. When this one came on the market, I bought it.”
“Why?”
“Why, what? Why did I buy it?”
“Yeah.”
Wyatt’s silent for a few minutes as more fireworks begin to explode above us. When he finally answers me, I realize I wasn’t prepared to hear what he had to say.
“This is our place. I couldn’t bear the thought of someone else owning it. It didn’t feel right. Even though I was still pissed at you and didn’t understand what happened, I knew that I had to buy the land. I had to build the house. I had to create a life that was worthy of you.”
“Worthy of me?”
“I wanted your parents to accept me. I knew if that was ever going to happen, I had to do something big. There had to be money involved. I had to be worthy of being a part of your family.”
“Jesus, Wyatt. My parents are fucked up when it comes to priorities. Money isn’t everything, I hope you know that. Look what it’s done to them. It’s made them classless. They forced me to do something that not only hurt me and you but it hurt our daughter. She missed out getting to know you. You missed the chance to watch her grow up. That’s what money does to people. It drives them crazy and makes them believe they have power over other people.
“Don’t aim to be accepted by people like my parents. Just be a good person. Love unconditionally. Perfection is overrated. It’s the imperfect things in life that are worth more than money.”
“And what in your life is imperfect?”
There’s only one thing I can think of when it comes to imperfection.
“You. Our relationship. The way things turned out. I’ve tried to move on, but my heart won’t let me, Wyatt. I know you don’t want to hear that, and I’m sorry, but it’s true. What we had was perfect. What happened was shitty and ruined all that perfection. Our story, the love we shared, is imperfect beyond belief, but I wouldn’t change it for the world. It gave us our daughter.”
Wyatt nods, his silence bringing back the only memory I have of him where he was speechless.
I’m panting, heavily. My body is still convuls
ing, covered in a sheen of sweat.
More importantly, there is a smile on my face. One that won’t go away.
They say your first time sucks. And at first, it was uncomfortable and awkward. Neither of us knew exactly what to do, it being the first time for both of us. After a few minutes, though, our bodies started speaking to one another and things got intense.
Wyatt being my first was the best decision I ever made. He was gentle and sweet when I needed him to be and in control and demanding when I asked him to be.
The perfect mix of loving and greedy.
Looking over at him, his breathing is just as ragged as my own. His smile even larger than mine.
When I decided to give myself to Wyatt, to give him my virginity, I was scared. So I waited. Four months I waited for the perfect moment, carrying that tent and sleeping bag in my trunk knowing that I wanted it to happen here.
At our place.
Our spot.
For the last three weeks, I’ve been trying to get him alone down here, but our schedules have been crazy and Jones has been around. A lot.
I can’t really complain about it. With graduation approaching, he was always thinking about Sawyer and what she was missing out on. Graduation was their pivotal moment. It was the beginning of everything they planned. The beginning of their life together.
Thankfully, he wanted to wash away his sorrow and memories with booze tonight. That gave Wyatt the idea to bring us down here, for us to be alone and celebrate together.
What better way to celebrate the beginning of the rest of our lives?
Wyatt’s silent; the only sound in the tent is his breathing. I give him a few minutes to let it all sink it. I was mentally prepared for this, to experience this moment. I sprung it on him, and thankfully he was just as ready as I was. At least physically.
Rolling toward him, I lay my hand on his chest, his heart pounding against it. His smile widens as he turns and our eyes connect. I see what he wants, and I couldn’t be happier to oblige.
“We can’t,” he says as I’m about to wrap my hand around him.
“Why?” I ask, pulling my hand back as if it’s been burned. Does he not want to do it again? Was it not as good for him as it was for me?
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