Chapter 48 Wyatt
WYATT
BLAKE IS DISCHARGED FROM THE hospital less than twenty-four hours after being admitted.
It seems too soon for me, but apparently this is a common surgery, so minimally invasive she’ll barely have a scar.
Nonetheless, I don’t like the idea of sending her home when she’s still so fragile.
Everything makes her cry, even leaving the hospital.
She has to be in a wheelchair because it’s policy, and when a mother and her young son can’t fit onto the elevator and say, “We’ll take the next one,” Blake bursts into tears because there was no room.
My mom tells me it’s completely normal. Blake’s hormone levels are dropping, and it can take weeks for what I’m told is the “pregnancy hormone” to leave her system.
But it’s hard to watch. No, it’s excruciating, especially when she barely looks at me.
Barely talks to me. We haven’t even been alone since she accused me of pretending to be cool with the pregnancy and then chose to seek comfort from her mom rather than me.
I’m trying not to take it personally. Blake is close with her mom, and I know Grace is her support system—it’s only natural she’s leaning on her.
But I wish she would lean on me, even just a little.
The day after she’s discharged, I decide to fix her some lunch and see if she’ll eat it outside with me on the deck like we used to do. She hasn’t left her room since she got back from the hospital.
Mom finds me in the kitchen, smiling at the sight. “He’s cooking.”
“He’s cooking,” I confirm. “Well, sort of. It’s just grilled cheese.”
I lift the sandwich out of the pan with a spatula and set it down on the plate. As I grab a knife and prepare to cut the grilled cheese in half, a memory surfaces, making me glance over at my mom.
“Hey, remember that time I asked you and Dad why you cut diagonally and not directly in half, and you said it’s because diagonally means you love the person?” I snort. “And then Dad made us grilled cheese that one time and purposely served everyone but me a diagonal cut?”
Mom huffs out a laugh. “And you ran upstairs crying. God, your dad is such an asshole.”
“Nah, you have to admit, it was a pretty funny prank.”
“Well, obviously. But still an asshole. You bringing that up to Blake?”
“I’m gonna see if she’ll come down. Guard the sandwiches, will you? Don’t let the dads get them.”
“With my life,” she promises. Before I can walk away, Mom touches my arm. “She’ll be okay, honey. She’s just gone through a trauma, but she’s strong.”
I nod. “I know.”
“And those hormones can be a real bitch. Try not to take anything she says to heart. She’ll probably feel bad about it later.”
“You’ve heard her snapping at me then,” I say wryly.
“Yes, but she’s been snapping at everyone, if that makes you feel better.”
“Actually, it does.”
Upstairs, I find the door to the yellow room closed.
I really did disrupt the entire ecosystem of rooms by taking the blue room without thinking.
With Blake in the yellow room, Gigi and Ryder had to sleep in the mountain room, which means I got to hear my sister complain endlessly about how she much hates the mountain room because there are too many mosquitoes on that side of the house.
Who doesn’t like a majestic mountain view? My twin is such a diva.
I knock on the door and am rewarded with a soft, “Come in.”
That’s promising.
The first thing I see when I step inside is the suitcase on the bed.
I take it back. Not promising at all.
“Why are you packing?” I ask with a frown.
Blake glances up from the stack of T-shirts she’s folding. She’s wearing blue sweatpants and a white T-shirt, her hair arranged in a loose braid. Clothing-wise, she looks like her usual self. But I’ve never seen that vacant expression in her eyes before.
“I’m going back to Boston,” she answers. “Well, Hastings.”
“You’re not supposed to be leaving until Sunday.”
“I decided to go early.” She folds another shirt and adds it to the pile. “I want to get settled at Grandpa’s place.”
I nod. After she and Isaac broke up, she was living with her parents in Boston, but there’s really no reason for her to have to make the commute when Grace’s dad lives in an old century home in Hastings, which is only ten minutes from campus. Blake will be living there for her senior year.
“So you’re going back to school?”
“Yes.”
I press my lips together to stop the flood of words trying to escape. All the questions. So many fucking questions.
Are you angry with me?
What does this mean for us?
Why won’t you look at me?
Instead, I wander over and sit at the bay window, hands on my knees, watching her.
She moves methodically, folding each item neatly.
It’s completely opposite from how I leave a place.
Everything’s going to have to get taken out anyway, so I just throw it all in a jumble and deal with it when I get home.
“I think I’m going back to Boston too,” I tell her.
She doesn’t even blink. “Cool.”
Cool? That’s it?
“I’ll be at home for a few weeks working in my mom’s studio with her. She’s helping me polish some tracks before I send them to Dodson.”
Still nothing.
“Yeah, I know, I know. Growth, right?”
No response. Blake pulls several sundresses off the hangers in the closet. Those cute little floral dresses she wore all summer that made my heart pound and got my dick hard.
Finally, I can’t take it anymore.
“Freckles.”
She doesn’t answer.
I get up and stride toward her, capturing her hands as she’s rolling up the dresses. Of course she’s a rolling packer. She’s the kind of person who wouldn’t want wrinkles. I disentangle her hands from the fabric.
“Please look at me.”
Her blue eyes shift toward me. Behind the blank mask, I glimpse sorrow.
“Do you want to talk about it?” I say quietly. “The baby?”
Her voice is flat and emotionless. “There was never a baby.”
Agony slices into my chest. “There was. Just because it implanted in the wrong place doesn’t mean there wasn’t a baby. You can talk to me about it.”
Those eyes suddenly pin me in place. “What are you doing?”
I falter. “I’m trying to comfort my girlfriend.”
She sputters out a laugh, which, I’m not going to lie, stings.
A lot. I try not to show that it affects me, pasting on an understanding smile because that’s what I need to be right now.
Understanding. I need to let the hormone-induced jabs bounce off me because it’s not who Blake is.
I know that deep down, she’s kind. She doesn’t laugh when someone is offering comfort.
“I’m not your girlfriend, Wyatt.”
I slowly inhale. Just the hormones.
“Stop trying to act like you’re my boyfriend, okay? We just fucked for the summer.”
Now I can’t help myself. “It was more than sex and you know it.”
“Okay, fine, it was more than sex,” she concedes. “It was a fling, a summer romance, whatever you want to call it. But I’m not your girlfriend, and the only reason you’re calling me that is because we happened to get pregnant.”
“That’s not true,” I object.
“Yes, it is. Before that positive pregnancy test, we both agreed it was going to end when the summer ended. That was the number one rule, remember?”
“We created those rules at the very start. A lot has changed since then.”
“Yeah, I got pregnant.”
“No, it changed before that. I fell in love with you before there was ever a baby.”
She just stares at me. It’s like a knife to the heart.
“And I know you love me too.”
She says nothing, and the knife twists in deeper.
“I want us to keep seeing each other,” I say. “The pregnancy, yes, would’ve guaranteed that, but I don’t need it as an excuse. I want to be with you.”
“You only said you loved me after I told you I was pregnant.”
Frustration clogs my throat. What the fuck am I doing wrong here? I love her. What more am I supposed to do to convince her?
My hands clench, and I have to slowly loosen my fingers before I break them. “I already told you I was planning on telling you before that.”
“Yeah, well, you didn’t.”
“So you think I…” My voice shakes. “You think I’m fucking lying to you? Saying I love you when I don’t mean it?”
“I think you feel bad that I lost the baby. I think you were trying to do the right thing when you said it.”
I’m incredulous. “Really. I told you I loved you because it was the right thing.”
“I don’t know, Wyatt.” Her eyes get shiny, and when she blinks, a few tears spill out.
My eyes are stinging pretty badly themselves, and I don’t have hormones to blame for it. Only the panic of seeing her slipping away from me. And the disbelief and…yes, maybe some anger over the accusation that my “I love you” was nothing but lip service.
For the first time in my life, I fully opened my heart to someone, and she thinks it was fake.
“I think we need to stick to our rules,” she says dully. “If one of us wants to stop, we stop. Isn’t that what you said? No questions asked, no explanations required, remember?”
“Screw the rules,” I burst out, the panic rising again. “You can’t walk away from this. You love me. I know you do. I fucking feel it.”
She scrubs her hands over her tear-streaked cheeks. “I don’t know where my head is right now. I burst into tears every five seconds. My emotions are all over the place. I just need to go back to Briar and focus on graduating and figuring out what to do with my life.”
“I can help you figure it out.”
“I don’t want your help. I don’t want…”
“Me,” I finish, my tone flat. “You don’t want me.”
“This is for the best, Wyatt. It was always going to end. Fucking always. It wasn’t going to work long-distance.”
“You don’t know that.”
“Just stop. Please.” She’s crying again, wearing that same helpless look she gave me in the hospital. As if she can’t make sense of her own world. “I’m not pregnant anymore. You’re off the hook.”
“It wasn’t a hook,” I say hoarsely.
“You don’t understand.”
“Then help me understand.” I run both hands through my hair. Now we’re both agitated. “Please don’t do this. Don’t leave.”
A knock sounds on the half-open door as Grace peers inside. “Everything all right in here?” I don’t miss the compassion in her eyes when she sees my face.
Blake turns her back to both the door and me, going to the closet to get more dresses.
“I’m almost done packing,” she tells her mother, even as the tears continue to stream down her cheeks. “And Wyatt was just leaving.”
Pain rips into me. She doesn’t want me here. She doesn’t want me anywhere.
As I walk to the door, my whole body feels weak. Like I’ve just been beaten within an inch of my life. Everything aches, and I can barely see through the sheen of emotion obscuring my vision.
Before we even kissed, I told her I was going to break her heart.
Joke’s on me.
She broke mine.
1 NEW EMAIL
From: Mercer County Records Office
Subject: Purchase Agreement, 1229 Sycamore Lane
Dear Ms. Logan,
Please find attached the requested deed and purchase agreement for the following property:
1229 Sycamore Lane
Trenton, Mercer County, New Jersey 08610
Lot & Block Reference: Lot 42, Block 19
Purchasers: Raymond C. Loughlin/Dolly Gallagher Loughlin
Seller: Evergreen Properties LLC
Don’t hesitate to reach out if you require more assistance. Happy to help!
Best,
Devin Gorchuk
Mercer County Records Office