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Say You Want Me(20)

By:Corinne Michaels


Presley got me the information for the only gynecologist within twenty miles of here. He apparently delivered Wyatt, so I can only imagine how old he is, but I’ll find out in two days when I meet him. Wyatt, apparently, loves Dr. Borek. He said he’s the best doctor around, and I’ll soon see why. This should be fun.

His hand lifts and brushes my hair back. “I know this isn’t what either of us planned, but I hope you know that I’ll always be there for both of you, even if this doesn’t work out.”

I lace my fingers with his, putting our clasped hands between us. “I promise I’ll never be one of those women who keeps him or her from you. I grew up with two parents, but they weren’t like yours. They weren’t always bad. When we were really little, my mom was awesome. We baked cookies, did crafts, and she was really happy. My dad worked a lot, but he came home smiling and played dolls with me. Then my mom got cancer and everything changed.”

“I’m sorry.” Wyatt’s eyes are soft and sincere.

“Don’t be.” I never understood what people were sorry for. It’s not as if they gave her cancer and then cut me out of her life. “She made her choice. Instead of seeing that she had a second chance at life and living it to the fullest, she shut us all out. It was like her life could go at any minute, and instead of holding all of us close, she pushed us away.”

Wyatt squeezes my hand a little. “Still sucks.”

I let out a small laugh. “It does, and she’s no better now. When Todd died, she really gave up on me. However, she’s clung to my brother Josh, since he’s the prodigal son.”

“I didn’t know you had another brother.”

“Josh is . . .” I trail off, trying to think how to explain him. “Difficult.”

Wyatt grins. “I have one of those.”

I wish that Josh were like Trent. As difficult as he seems to be, it’s different. “Not the same. Josh is the biggest snob I’ve ever met. He made a ton of money in his early twenties and let it get to his head. He’s stingy, self-absorbed, and pretentious. He lets everyone know it, too. He’s a pompous prick that I feel no need to be around. I can only imagine what he’s going to say when he finds out I’m pregnant.”

Wyatt’s body tenses, and his face grows hard. “It’s not his place.”

“No.” I close my eyes. “But he’ll still have an opinion.”

One that won’t be good. I’m sure we’ll end up screaming at each other. He’ll call me a whore, or some other awful name, and then inject something about Todd. When Todd died he didn’t even come to the funeral. He stayed in Florida in all his perfection. God forbid he be there for me, Presley, or our parents. It was easier for him to say how Todd made his choice and that he wasn’t going to be inconvenienced because of it. Did I mention he’s a prick?

I’ve never been more disappointed in him than I was in that moment.

“No,” Wyatt says with no room for question. “He won’t.”

It’s sweet that he’s already slightly protective. He’s pretty cute when he’s being all macho. “It’s fine. I’ve learned to ignore whatever comes out of his mouth.”

“Tell me more about your parents,” he urges.

We settle in, and I talk about my mother and going through her treatments. We talk about the fact that I haven’t spoken to her in months and really didn’t notice until now. It’s sad that she wasn’t the first phone call I wanted to make, but I’ve come to accept the relationship she’s capable of having. She may not be the mother I wish I had, but I can’t change her. I can’t force someone to love me the way I want them to. It doesn’t work that way.

Time passes and Wyatt and I keep sharing. Sometimes we talk about our friends, other times our family. My eyes grow tired, and I fight to keep them open.

“Sleep.” His other hand comes to my cheek.

“No,” I say around a yawn, fighting the exhaustion settling over me.

He shifts forward, kisses my forehead, and lies back down. “Good night, Angie.”

“Good night, Wyatt.”

His other hand slides down my body, and my eyes jerk open. His brown eyes don’t move from mine, and he keeps our fingers intertwined. His hand rests on my stomach. “Good night, baby.”

I place my hand over his. “Good night, baby.”

We both smile at each other, and his beautiful eyes close.





THE NEXT TWELVE DAYS GO by seamlessly. The doctor was old, but really sweet. He gave me a lot of things to think about, and some advice on how to handle any symptoms I’ll probably have. All in all, Wyatt was right. He is a great doctor, which of course I won’t tell him. We told his parents last weekend, which I was nervous about but quickly learned I had no reason to be. I still haven’t called my own parents, though.