Don’t make decisions for anyone but yourself
DON’T MAKE DECISIONS FOR ANYONE BUT YOURSELF
Brynn
It took everything in me to keep the tears I felt from filling my eyes and falling. My chest felt like it had been ripped open, the jagged edges of my ribs filling the void where my heart had once been.
But I knew I’d made the right decision.
I’d only heard Wyatt’s side of his conversation with Raf, but it was enough for it to really hit me and to realize what he was sacrificing if anyone found out we’d been together.
I hadn’t fully thought about the consequences when we were tucked away alone together, which wasn’t like me at all.
Usually I overthought those things. Ran through all the worst-case scenarios.
This time I’d followed my heart with blinders on, never thinking about what was coming at us from the side.
But reality—or that phone call rather—was a swift kick to the gut.
If we stayed together, Wyatt wouldn’t just be risking his job—which I knew he’d lose because the terms in the contract I signed were crystal clear that there should be zero fraternization—but he’d also lose a friend.
The way he spoke to Raf and the way he’d spoken of him when he’d told me about his time in the military made it clear that friendship was important to him.
How could I allow him to risk all that when he had no idea about the reality of my life?
If he was with me as a couple, he’d never have another moment of privacy.
There’d always be cameras following him around.
As my bodyguard, he could remain in the background.
As my boyfriend, he’d never know peace again.
I couldn’t do that to him, so instead I’d ended things, and he’d hardly spoken to me since. Not that it mattered. I couldn’t talk over the lump in my throat that I was sure would turn into tears if I dared speak.
The drive back to LA was filled with a fraught and tense silence that had all my muscles bunched and aching by the time we neared my mansion. I should’ve felt relieved to finally have an escape, but my heart clenched painfully at the thought of Wyatt leaving.
Would he come back, or would he ask to be reassigned? What would I do if I never saw him again?
He parked the SUV. “Wait here.”
He got out of the car, his eyes covered with his mirrored aviator sunglasses and his jaw set.
His head twisted around in a way that told me he was assessing the surroundings.
Then he was at my door, opening it with a coolness he’d never had with me before.
I slid out of the car gracefully, aware that soon I’d be surrounded by all the people I paid and wouldn’t get a chance to talk to him for who knew how long.
My fingers twitched with the desire to reach out and touch him, but I stopped myself in case there were photographers hiding—wouldn’t be the first time.
I tucked my chin to my chest and opened my purse so anyone watching would think I was checking inside it for something.
I kept my voice low and only for him. If I never saw him again, I needed him to know one thing.
“I’m sorry, Wyatt.” My voice was thick with emotion, those pesky tears I’d fought against so hard now burning my eyes.
“These last twelve days have been the best of my life.” And then even quieter, so quiet I wasn’t sure he’d even hear them. “No one will ever compare to you.”
If he heard those final words, he’d probably think I meant sexually. And while he was the best I’d ever had, it was how hard I’d fallen in love with him that I knew no one would ever come close to. No one would make me feel what this man did.
His jaw clenched, the muscle jumping, but otherwise he didn’t move.
Giving him up was the hardest thing I’d ever done, and I wondered if I’d always have to live with the hollowness I now felt knowing he couldn’t be mine anymore.
My front door opened and my people flowed out, shouting at me, rushing over to me.
They all talked over each other, and while I could normally figure out what they were saying and address each in turn, I found myself feeling exhausted and tuning them out.
I wanted so desperately to look over at Wyatt, to take off my own sunglasses and let him see the pain in my eyes so he’d know this was killing me.
But I couldn’t, because that was a luxury for other people.
I had all the money I could ever want, and it couldn’t buy me the one thing I craved—the ability to enjoy my life in private, to even have a relatively normal life. To love the man I wanted without making his life worse.
Stella pulled me toward the front door, her assistant next to her.
My tour manager was also here, along with the tour costume designer and several other people.
Stella started talking the loudest, telling me how grateful she was that this madness was all over and we could get back to work.
I almost laughed because this “madness” as she called it would never be over.
Maybe this stalker was taken care of, but there would likely be another in the future.
This madness was my life and I’d never be free of it.
She went on and on about how they needed my sign-off on a few things before we started the next leg of the tour.
They pulled me into the house, and I glanced back before we made it to the living room. Wyatt stood at the threshold of the front door, talking to Jamie. His sunglasses were off now, but his eyes never glanced my way.
I silently begged for just one more look. I just needed him to look at me one more time like I mattered to him.
Jamie patted him on his upper arm, and Wyatt turned around without a single look my way. I stared, broken, lonely, and raw as Jamie closed the door.
I’d done the right thing saving Wyatt from this life. And yet everything about it felt wrong.