What I wanted was to get inside him to never leave, listen to his heart beating so wonderfully under my ear and feel his warmth against me.
We both came out alive when I was sure we wouldn’t. He saved us, and he didn’t let his demons win either.
He came out the bigger man, and I loved him more for that.
“It’s not your fault,’’ I whispered, my voice too scratchy from crying. I pulled away to look at his eyes also bloodshot. “Tell me you know it’s not your fault.’’
“I should have known he’d come after you. I—‘’
“You can’t possibly think like a monster when you’re not, Wyatt. You saved me, saved us. Don’t let him win now.’’
He cupped my face, and I perceived the slight trembles in his hands. I put my own over his and closed my eyes.
“I won’t, Marissa.’’ He pressed his forehead against mine and took a deep breath. I did the same. It didn’t matter that we were dirty from rolling on the floor in that apartment or that we smelled like blood and sweat. We were here, together and alive. I had never felt this light, not when I woke up from my coma or when I got back my full mobility after months of hard work. “Two women saved me, you know. Lydia Burton gathered my scattered pieces, and you put them back together.’’
Tears welled up in my eyes and a smile accompanied them. I opened my eyes and found anguish twisting his face. “No, no, they’re happy tears, Wyatt. I love you. Love is messy sometimes.’’
“In a way, I think it’s the best kind of love. I love you so much, Marissa. I came close to never telling you this or showing you.’’
“Kiss me. Let’s forget it all and kiss me.’’
“I don’t want to forget it and I can’t. We can’t forget something like that, sweet thing. I’ve always known my biological father was a monster, but it’s something else to hear himself confess to murders. And what he almost did to you? I will never forget that because it finally showed me that contrary to what I think, I’m not my father.’’
“You could never be so evil, Wyatt. I want you to remember that every day.’’ I caressed his cheek, the pad of my fingers prickled against his unkempt beard. What I saw in his eyes pierced my heart, but it didn’t hurt. Strangely, it warmed me to my core and filled me with hope, not just for me and what Wyatt and I had together, but for him.
It took me a while to take his behavior for what it was beyond the fears I quickly picked up on; self-loathing. After meeting his biological father, I couldn’t imagine what he went through to make him believe he was his father in any way. The kind of pain he went through must have been incapacitating.
“I heard about your biological father. I didn’t know he—‘’
“Shh… It’s over. I didn’t know him, and I regret that the choice of ever knowing him was taken from me, but it’s not our story, it’s our fathers’.’’ I traced the edge of the thick white bandage marred with blood at his hairline. “When you think about it, we were bound to be in each other’s life. My biological mother abandoned me and adopted you. Our biological fathers had a shady business together. It’s crazy.’’
“Or fate.’’ He pressed his lips against mine, and the touch was almost chaste in the softness of his mouth and the reverence that accompanied his gesture. “I’ve never believed in fate before. I always thought it was a bullshit people used to talk about coincidence and make sense of something that’s difficult to explain, but now I’m not sure.’’ He took one of my hands in his and pressed it over his fast beating heart. “It’s not a matter of love at first sight, but I think my heart awakened when I first met you. Without you, I’d still be the same asshole, self-absorbed and scared shitless. You made me be a man and take action.’’
“I didn’t do anything,’’ I whispered, my heart joining his in a melody so powerful it’s a wonder the sound didn’t echo in the interrogation room.
“You came back, sweet thing. You came back even after you said you wouldn’t. For me. It means more to me than anything.’’
And then, finally, he kissed me with a tenderness that chased all the darkness that threatened to swallow us today.
Wyatt often was somber, but at that moment he was the one infusing light.
***
WYATT
We walked out of the interrogation room after a while, hand in hand and free of the dark clouds that had never left me alone before. For once, I was serene which was mad considering the kind of day we’ve had, or weeks even.
I couldn’t help the feeling of freedom that filled me to the brim. I had no idea how long my biological father would be in prison, but what mattered was that he would be in jail and wouldn’t come near me again. My real father would make sure of it.
My eyes went to Marissa as she walked quietly beside me, her little hand in mine, tightly holding me as if she was afraid I’d leave. As if I would. Nothing and nobody will make me leave her again.
Lying was over, keeping us a secret was over.
We walked into the waiting room, and I spotted my father and Marissa’s talking in a corner while my mom and Marissa’s mother comforted each other. Both women had bloodshot eyes and handkerchief in hand, dabbing every few minutes at their face now bare of any makeup.
Not a blink later and Marissa’s mother gasped her name, and my hand left Marissa under the assault of our respective mother.
If I had ever had any doubts that Lydia Burton was my mom, that hug so vigorous and desperate with love erased them. Lydia was my mom and would always be. Just like Mrs. Thornton, a tiny blonde woman was Marissa’s mom.
In life, sometimes blood relatives didn't rhyme with love. Love was too messy and complicated for that, but it didn’t make it less beautiful and powerful.
“I love you so much, Wyatt.’’
“I love you too, Mom.’’
“Never scare me like this again. I don’t know how I could do without you.’’
“Shh…’’ I hushed her when her sobs started again against my chest already damp from Marissa’s tears. “It’s over now. It’s finally over.’’
She nodded and pulled away to look at me. Her violet-blue eyes that Marissa inherited stared intensely at me, and her watery smile struck me as so warm I couldn’t understand how I did to ever think darkness only filled me.
“It looks like there’s a lot you have to tell me.’’
Just like that, Lydia Burton showed me she trusted me blindly, not doubting my commitment to the daughter she gave up for adoption and breaking her heart by doing it.
I had thought I was unlucky, forever to be hit left and right, but at that moment I opened my eyes and saw things for what they were.
I was lucky to be alive.
I was lucky for my adoptive family.
I was lucky for the love an amazing woman gave me.
I was lucky. Period.
Author’s Babbling
The first time I had this book idea was over three years ago. Wyatt and Marissa's story consumed me in the best of ways, and at a time I needed it the most.
I hope you enjoyed this story and that you fell in love with Wyatt even if he makes it difficult. ;)
First, I'd like to thank Jacqueline Cox for her friendship. Her support and help when I needed her opinion mean a lot to me. #NoSugar! :p
I'd also like to thank my sprinting buddies, Jo Raven, Sam Destiny and Michelle Horst. Ladies, I wouldn't have been able to finish this book without your crazy sprints and the GIFs. I look forward to many more sprints with you.
Then, my deepest gratitude goes to all the bloggers and early reviewers who helped me promote Messy Love. Your kindness, willingness to help and enthusiasm is astonishing. It never ceases to overwhelm me and make me appreciate our book community more than I already do with each new release.
Finally, and I probably forgot many people to thank...
Thank you for buying my book and reading it. You took a chance on me and my characters, gave hours of your life to read my story. This is a wonderful gift for an
author.
Writing is what I love doing best, but without sharing it with all of you, it would lose its meaning.
If you enjoyed Messy Love, could you take the time to post a quick review and/or recommend it to your friends? Your help makes a difference.
I'll stop now before I start being all emotional on you.
Until the next book!
Stephanie Witter, in her twenties, lives in France where she comes up with book ideas on her laptop, notebook or phone. When she’s not writing the day away, she likes visiting museums or shopping to add another nail polish to her already huge collection. She’s also unable to resist the appeal of new books, even when she knows she can’t possibly have the time to read yet another one. She’s happy to have a to-read pile so high she can never put a dent into it even if she tries her best.
You can find her:
• Website: http://stephanie-witter.weebly.com
• Blog: http://stephaniewitterblog.wordpress.com
• Facebook Page: http://www.facebook.com/Stephanie.witter.author
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Amazon: http://www.amazon.com/Stephanie-Witter/e/B01F2UZTYE
If you wish to write her an email you can reach her at [email protected]
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