He scoffs. “You can’t believe that. I see it in your eyes. I see how you look at me now.”
My hand covers my mouth. He’s nuts. “I don’t blame you! Not one time have I ever said losing Faith was your fault. Not once have I even thought it. It was a deer! A deer ran into our car on the cold, wet road. It wasn’t your fault!” I walk toward him, but he steps back. “You can’t even let me touch you.” The words aren’t an accusation, they’re the truth. “You haven’t hugged me, kissed me, slept next to me, or anything since the burial.”
His eyes fill with tears. “I can’t.”
“Oh,” I say with pain layered on that one syllable. He can’t touch me? Me? I need his touch. I’ve fallen for him, and now he can’t bear to be around me. Everything is wrong. This isn’t how it’s meant to be.
It’s my worst fear come to fruition. I believe that at some point, Wyatt Hennington fell in love with me. I felt it every time he looked at me. But now he looks at me with something else. It’s not love and affection. He’s not hot and cold, he’s just . . . frozen.
“I’ll be back later,” Wyatt says as he turns away. “I have to check on the horses.”
I don’t think that’s true, but I’m too shocked to protest. I’ve pushed him too far. He grabs his sweatshirt and keys. Before he walks out the door, I finally reply. “I’ll be here.”
He pauses as he’s halfway out the door. “For now,” he says and then the door shuts.
The air is forced from my lungs, tears fall, and I lose it.
I’m not sure how much a heart can withstand before it gives out completely.
“Hey, Angie,” Grace says with surprise. “I didn’t think I’d see you already.”
I couldn’t sit in that house another minute. Wyatt was gone, and I don’t have a car, so when Trent came by to check in on me, I talked him into driving me here. Of course, he very indiscreetly made a phone call when I was demanding he take me to the bakery. The conversation lasted a few minutes with Trent whisper-yelling as I got ready. I couldn’t hear what he said, but Wyatt either didn’t care or didn’t argue with his brother. Seems he’s being a dick to everyone.
Trent tried to convince me to stay home, but I demanded he take me or I was calling his mama.
Here I stand.
“Yeah,” I say flippantly. “I was bored. I’d rather be here than staring at the same four walls.”
Grace nods. “I understand that. I can’t imagine sittin’ around all day. I’d go out of my mind,” she laughs. “How are you feelin’?”
“Still a little sore. I go to the doctor tomorrow for my post-op check-up. Otherwise, I’m breathing.”
“Wanna sit for a bit? I’ve been dreamin’ of these cupcakes for the last few days and would love to not have to eat alone.”
“Sure.” I smile and come around the counter.
“Presley tells me you haven’t decided if you’re headin’ back to Pennsylvania,” she says then sips her coffee.
“Presley has a big mouth.” I roll my eyes.
“Sorry, I guess I was just hopin’ that maybe you were going to stay.”
Grace is sweet, and I genuinely like her. She brought more food than anyone else over the last few weeks. She said when she’s emotional, she cooks. It was heartwarming to see a town reach out to us. Even though the loss was by far more of Wyatt’s and my own.
“You didn’t overstep. Things are . . .” I struggle to finish my thought.
“Wyatt isn’t handling things well, is he?” Grace takes a guess.
“No.”
She sighs and folds her hands. “I was afraid of that.”
“Why?”
Grace leans back in the chair and worries her lip. “We’ve all been close our whole lives. You don’t grow up in a town like this and not know everyone. Wyatt has always been the strongest of the Hennington boys. Zach and Trent have always relied on him in ways that many don’t see. Sure, Trent is supposed to be the law, and Zach was the star athlete with the girl of his dreams.” She waves her hand as if those two points don’t really mean much. “But Wyatt has been their rock. He stood back, watched them do what they do, and supported everyone. He’s the fixer. He’s the man who pushes them through all the messes they make. Now though, he can’t fix this. He can’t give you back what you lost, what he feels like he caused.”
“He’s not worried about fixing me.” I look away. “He’s too busy breaking me apart.”