Say You Want Me(82)

I giggle. “There’s no such thing as too much wine.”

“A drunk man’s words are a sober man’s thoughts.”

My heart plummets. I know he doesn’t mean anything by it, but if that’s the case . . . everything Wyatt said to me was how he truly felt. He was saying it all without the filter of sobriety. The last shred of hope I was holding on to just disintegrated.

I turn away to hide the tears building. “I remembered I have an early meeting with Erin.” I lie. Once I’ve composed myself, I look at him. “I need to get to bed.”

Nate looks at his watch and back to me. “I should get going. Rounds always come earlier than usual.”

I walk Nate to the door and thank him again for dinner. I promise to call him soon, but I think we’ll need some very firm boundaries in place. After he leaves, I start to clean the mess from dinner, give up, and text Presley. Having her back in my life for those few months on a daily basis reminded me how much I love having her around.

Me: I miss you.

Presley: I miss you tons! The boys are driving me nuts about the wedding.

Logan and Cayden have found their very mischievous sides. Presley has her hands full with those two. Plus, their soon-to-be stepdad is like a giant kid. He riles them up more than anything.

Me: What did they do now?

Presley: They’re crazy! They called your mother to invite her.

Oh, God no. I really hope she doesn’t come. Although, I don’t think she will. After Todd died my mom wrote Presley off, blaming her for what happened and saying that a “real wife” would have seen the signs. God forbid she believes that Todd lied through his teeth to everyone.

Me: Please tell me she’s not coming. I don’t think I can handle her and seeing him again at the same time.

Presley: No! She told me she was so sorry to decline, but since she didn’t find out with enough time to make arrangements, she couldn’t make it.

Me: Ha! Sounds like her. It’s still over two months away. She’s something else.

Presley: How are you? Did you decide on the expansion?

What she wants to say is: Are you still sobbing every night? Do you miss him? Why don’t you come back?

My answers: Yes. Yes. Because I’m not a doormat.

Instead I reply.

Me: I’m good. Erin and I are going to hold off.

Three solid knocks sound on my front door, and I hop up from my seat on the couch. I’m sure Nate forgot something. “Did you forget—” the question dies on my lips when I see him.

His dark brown hair, beautiful light brown eyes, face with a light layer of scruff, green shirt with his tight jeans takes my breath away. My memory has done nothing to preserve the way he looks. Everything about him was dull in comparison to real life. “Expectin’ someone?” his Southern drawl is more prominent since I haven’t heard it in a while.

Wyatt Hennington stands in my doorway, taking up every inch of space.

At first, I feel joy. He came here. He’s in Philadelphia, clearly looking for me. I’ve dreamed of this night after night, and finally, he came. Then, another wave of emotion hits, this time it’s confusion. Why the hell is he here? He watched me walk away almost three weeks ago. Did he get lost and end up here? I don’t get it. He made it clear how he felt. Each day that he stayed away, he made a choice . . . what changed?

Finally, I settle on the most prominent feeling I have—anger. So now he shows his face? Out of nowhere and without so much as a text? After letting me feel this horrible pain for weeks? Yeah, well, fuck him. He’s seventeen days too late.

“Not you.” I slam the door in his face.

My back rests against the door, and I hold on to the hurt and anger. Those are emotions I can work with. My heart races as I picture him on the other side of the door.

“Angie.” He knocks again. “Please, baby, open up.”

I spin around and glare at the door. “I’m not your ‘baby’.”

“Can we talk?” he asks. “Please?”

“Nope. Go home, Wyatt. I have nothing to say to you.” That’s not exactly true. Actually, that’s completely untrue. I rip open the door and put my hands on my hips. “You know what? I do have something to say. Screw you. Screw you so hard your dick falls off. I can’t believe you have the balls to show up here like this. You promised me you’d be there for me. That you were going to fight to show me how much I should love you. Good job, jackass. You did that, and then you tossed me out like last night’s trash after we’d just lost our baby! Our daughter died, and you couldn’t man up. We’re done. I’m done crying over you, waiting for you to show up at my door, and I’m fixing this gaping hole you left in my heart myself. I. Am. Done!”