53. Wakeup Call
53
WAKEUP CALL
WYATT
I woke Sunday morning lying with Odette, the sun barely creeping in. She slept all night wrapped in my arms. We spent the evening drinking, talking, and cuddling. I did not mind the bit of time to recoup. While I could have quickly rallied when Theo left with Mom and Rebecca, I didn’t mind having more time to charge my physical and emotional batteries.
This first time was meaningful for both. It was more than I thought it would be. I’d lived all this time expecting to hate myself for being with someone else. However, as Odette had said earlier, she wasn’t the other woman. Isla was always in our hearts and minds. I could love Isla and adore Odette all at once.
Odette stirred, her face smiling. “ Bon matin. ”
“ Bon matin ,” I replied. “Waking up next to you is a delight.”
She blushed, her round, rosy cheeks growing even pinker.
“I should leave your room?—”
“No. Stay. Theo will have breakfast and won’t be back for a bit. I want to soak you up.”
I rubbed her back. She let out a contented sigh. Caressing her soft, warm skin felt lovely. My favourite bit of her was on her hips .
“Are you making fun of my love handles?” Odette asked. “I think that is what you call them in English.”
“Making fun of you?” I laughed. “Odette, there is not a part of you I would ever joke about. You’re physical perfection.”
She smiled. “You’re right.”
“No, to me, you are. I don’t know. This curve meets your thigh—your strong thigh—and then moulds back to your tiny waist. It’s soft and strong all at once. Forgive me if I enjoy this part of you, but it’s inviting to touch.”
“Oh. That’s… the sweetest thing anyone has ever said about my body.”
I cocked my head. “Who else has seen it and said anything? It’s not that shithead from the restaurant?”
“Are you jealous?” Odette giggled. She ran her finger up and down the centre of my chest.
“Is it?”
“Yes,” Odette answered. “Guy is the only one who has ever touched me there other than you. Guy… he was complicated. Everyone hated him by the end. Honestly, Alexandra always hated him. Rick didn’t even want to talk to him. He did a lot of things that hurt me.”
“Well, he may have fucked with your head but don’t let his shitty fucking opinions live in your beautiful brain rent-free.”
She nodded. “I… I never got the best of him. And, in the end, he started seeing someone else. It was while I was…”
Her voice faded.
“You don’t have to tell me, baby. I don’t owe you a past explanation any more than you owe me.”
“No. I… I worry it will freak you out.”
“I am pretty sure I’ve seen a lot of shit in my life. This is not going to freak me out, Odette.”
“I’m a head case. In the end… after months of attempts to stay in therapy and deal with my bipolar disorder, they put me on a bunch of meds. Which… I’m on meds now. I take them every day. When we get up, the first thing I will do is take them. But back then, the meds weren’t right. No one listened to me—including Alexandra, who was trying so hard to love me through it but believed the doctors knew all and didn’t realise all doctors weren’t the same. So, things got bad—then worse when I graduated. Everyone thought I was out of the woods but wasn’t.”
“Because your routine changed?”
“Yes,” Odette said. “And everyone just wanted me to be fixed—no one more than Guy, I think. Alexandra grew up with Dad’s moods. She assumed any one of us could be affected by them. She has patience. Guy didn’t. He always thought I was defective, but now he had a reason .”
Defective . That word hurt. It was not a word I’d ever attach to such a beautiful soul.
“You aren’t. Sounds like he was, though! What happened then?” I sensed there was more.
“I got totally off the rails—in a tailspin of depression. One night, he was disgusted by me. I was on my period, which always makes me a little off . But that’s all women. It’s normal.”
I nodded.
“But… he called me disgusting. This was after I went down on him and gave him everything he wanted. I always tried so hard. He refused to touch me or… anything. No kissing. Just told me I was disgusting and that I needed to stop trying to get attention.”
“But you were suffering… and he did that?”
She nodded.
“Odette, you never need to feel like that with me. You’ve offered a few times… and I never expect you to do anything if you are not in the mood. I do not want it unless you are so excited you cannot help yourself,” I said. “It’s not okay what he did. It’s coercive.”
She nodded again, this time more heartily. “I get that… now. However, he messed with my head. And when he left… I wrote a suicide note and was about to take a whole bottle of pills before Rick knocked on my door. I answered it for some reason. He was standing there with Chris on his hip, and he said he felt like something was wrong—that was it. He came to check on me. And then… I couldn’t do it. I thank God for Chris waking everyone up that night and for Rick’s intuition. Because… I wouldn’t be here, I think. But I went to a hospital in Switzerland, got better meds, got a new therapist, and I’ve been much better. I wouldn’t say I am never depressed, but I will say my moods are stable, and I am not a danger to anyone or myself.”
I brushed her cheek. “I am thankful for it. You’re an angel, Odette. The world needs more people with your sweetness and perspective.”
“I feel stupid even saying that. It’s all… heavy. You mustn’t tell anyone, of course. Alexandra worked so hard to bury this and protect my privacy.”
“I struggled after Isla died,” I admitted. “About two months after she died, our boy turned one. Everyone wanted to throw him a party, but I refused. I’ve not thrown him a party since. Isla had big plans for his first birthday. She’d already bought all the presents. And… I….I just couldn’t. I feel guilty because I cannot give him any of that. None of it. It hurts me too much.”
Odette furrowed her brow. “Still?”
“I want to… but I cannot. And planning it… I start, and I fail. I get stuck in this endless, painful loop. When he turns five in September, I promise myself I will be able to celebrate it. It’s his first year in preschool. He has friends to invite. I want him to feel normal.”
Odette smiled sweetly. “That would be nice. I’d be glad to help. I’ve helped plan not one but two royal weddings to date, and I fancy myself quite a party planner. If you’re up for it.”
“I would love the help,” I admitted. “I want to not—for once—lie in bed crying all day. It’s funny. The day we lost her was bad. But somehow, the loss hit like bricks when I had to come to terms with the true cost—the loss of all the memories she deserved. That we deserved. I didn’t get out of bed for weeks. Mom moved in. I couldn’t stop crying. I didn’t want to shower. I finally got a therapist, got on antidepressants, and have lived better through chemistry. I also take daily meds, if it’s any consolation.”
“Really?” Odette’s face lit up.
“They helped a lot with my social anxiety, too. I’ve always had it, but it got horrendous after Isla died. I was on meds for a while. That’s why when you panicked, I got it.”
“Thank you for just… being there,” Odette said.
“Odette, I’m not just here with you because you’re beautiful. You are. It’s because I care about you. Your heart is as big as the motherfucking galaxy, and I’m better for knowing you.”
She looked teary-eyed. “That… that means a lot.”
“It’s fucking true, okay? And you don’t have to feel bad. I’ve been very low before. There will be days I struggle. I tell you, knowing you won’t go blab. And you can trust me, okay?”
“I do,” Odette admitted. “Thanks for being okay with me not always being okay. I promise to give you the same.”