Chapter 41
Chapter Forty-One
WHITNEY
“Nothing is wrong. She looks absolutely healthy, but I think it’s best if we keep her overnight just to be safe.” Doctor Phillips says quietly, folding her hands over the front of her white coat.
Brinley is fast asleep in the bed beside mine, her Winnie the Pooh plush that Wyatt bought her tucked snugly into her chest. The bear’s ear is barely visible beneath her curled fingers. Her cheeks are still a little pink from the extremities of today, but she’s peacefully asleep and breathing fine.
“Try to rest for a little, Whitney,” she adds. “We’ve got her.”
Doctor Phillips is the same doctor who delivered Brinley.
I trust her judgement, so I just nod along.
I feel better knowing we’re being extra cautious, anyways.
The door clicks shut softly behind her as she exits.
I can't help it when my mind drifts back to the last time Brinley and I were in this hospital.
She came so fast and ready for this world that I didn't even have time for an epidural. God, I was terrified when those contractions first started. What if something went wrong? What would happen to Brinley if something happened to me?
I remember leaving Andrew voicemail after voicemail–begging him to come.
He never answered. He never showed.
I was a little less scared the first time I held her in my arms.
And those first few days after the chaos were hard and lonely.
But they were less painful when Blake showed up with wine. Or when Harper and Vivienne argued over who got to hold Brinley next. Even when Ana showed up with a bright smile and freshly baked muffins.
How would this time end? Will Brinley and I walk out of here alone again? Would it go back to just the two of us?
I wasn't ready for an answer. But maybe it was for the best if we did.
A knock on the door steals my attention. My sister’s frame pops into view. I bite the inside of my cheek, out of nerves or habit, I’m not sure. “Can we talk?” she asks.
I nod numbly. We haven’t spoken since… well, since everything. There’s a lot that needs to be said. She walks in slowly, closing the door behind her like she’s afraid she’ll shatter the peace with noise or jolt Brinley from her soft snores.
“Benji and Ivy are fine,” she reassures me. “Looked them over before we came here. They’re at my place for the night.”
“Thank you,” I say softly. I’m not sure what I’d do if anything happened to those two. I’m so thankful neither of them were hurt or ran off. I scoot over when she makes it to my side, making room on the hospital bed for both of us.
Vivienne sits bedside me with a sigh, tears already springing to her eyes. “I’m sorry, Whit. I had no idea.”
“That’s partially my fault. I never told you all the gritty details,” I respond. “I never wanted you to think it was your fault.”
“I can’t believe...” She shakes her head. “I just don’t understand.”
So, I help her understand. I tell her everything. Because it’s the least she deserves.
I tell her about our mother and my father.
What it was like to grow up, and how we got here.
About how far she went to erase me from their lives.
About Andrew and the control, manipulation, and lies.
About how it feels now, knowing what kind of person and father he truly is.
I don’t stop there either. I admit to her that my marriage is a sham.
I explain that even though our vows weren't real–everything I feel is. I tell her how I love Wyatt, even when I did everything in my power not to love him. I tell her how I don’t deserve him and how I’ve tried to come to terms with that.
I tell her about the one-night stand that changed everything, and how we ended up here.
By the end, tears are dripping from both of our faces.
I don’t bother wiping at them when they flow so freely.
Vivienne listens without interrupting, only chiming in to add when needed.
Her hand finds mine somewhere in the middle of it all, and she holds tight like she’s scared I might disappear, too.
“Brinley and I can’t stay with him anymore,” I whisper. “He doesn’t deserve this. Everything I’ve put him through…”
I look down at my lap, the words catching in my throat. “I’m not the kind of girl who deserves a man like Wyatt.”
Vivienne huffs a laugh, making me blink. “Are you stupid?”
“Sorry?” I can’t help the laugh that bubbles. I whip my head back up to meet her gaze. She’s looking at me like I’ve officially lost it.
“Whitney,” Vivienne says, rolling her eyes, “I’ve never seen you this happy.”
I shake my head, “I don’t—”
“Wyatt doesn’t look at you like it’s pretend. Plus, he’s out there pacing in the hallway like—” she continues, but a knock cuts her off. We both pivot towards the door just as Wyatt’s head appears around the corner.
“Bad time?” His voice is rough when he asks.
He looks like hell. Dirty clothes, disheveled hair, dark circles under his eyes.
But still, he takes my breath away. Especially with the way his eyes immediately seek out Brinley, softening when they land on her.
He exhales, like seeing her safe eases him just as much as it eases me.
Vivienne stands and leans down to kiss my forehead. “I’ll go get us some coffee.”
I don’t miss the look she shoots my way after she passes him. He closes the door behind him and crosses the room, dragging a chair up beside my bed. His fingers wrap around the back of it, but he doesn’t sit like I thought he would.
“About what I said before…” I start, but he cuts me off with a shake of his head.
“No,” he says firmly. “Let me go first.”
He swallows, running a hand along his jaw, “We can’t do this anymore.”
My heart stutters. Hearing him say it… it makes it so much more real. I blink, forcing myself to nod. “I-I agree. You deserve better than this. Better than me.”
Wyatt exhales sharply, dragging the chair a little closer, but still not sitting. Like he needs to give his hands something to do. His voice sharpens. “No, Winnie. That’s not what I meant.”
My mouth parts, and I shake my head, confused.
“I mean this pretending thing we’ve been doing. The marriage that wasn’t supposed to mean anything? The way we tiptoe around the way we really feel.”
I don’t say anything, and time stretches between us.
I search his face for answers, to understand if this is some kind of prank.
He pulls out the chair at some point, finally sitting.
He leans forward on his elbows, eyes locked on mine.
He’s so close I can smell him, and it makes it hard to concentrate on the conversation we're supposed to be having. “I’m done pretending. I want more, Whitney. I want real. I want you.”
“No, you don’t,” I give my head a violent shake. “I can’t give you what you want, Wyatt.”
“Bullshit.”
“This isn’t a joke, Wyatt!” I snap back, flinching when I glance at Brinley.
I lower my voice, “You deserve someone… whole. Someone who doesn’t come with baggage and trauma.
Someone who’s not a mother that can barely keep her shit together for her own kid.
You don’t deserve to fix something you didn’t break.
” His jaw clenches, but I push on. “This is what you want? A woman who attracts shit like this?”
“Yes,” he bites without hesitation. “What the hell are you so scared of Winnie? Why are you running from this?”
“You!” I bite out, “I’m scared of you!”
“Why?”
“Because I love you.” A sob rushes up and racks my body as I finally utter those three words.
“I love you so much it feels like I can’t fucking breathe.
But how can I ask you to stay and fix something you didn’t break?
What if we did do this? What if it’s amazing?
Or, what if one day, you wake up and decide Brinley and I are not what you want anymore? ”
Because it wasn’t just me he’d be leaving. It’d be Brinley, too. Can we survive it a second time? If it’s Wyatt, I don’t think so.
“Is that what you think?” he asks, disbelief and anger radiating off him, “That it’ll be too much for me?”
My breath hitches.
“I missed her first steps. Her first words. I wasn’t there for the late nights, the diapers, the milestones.
But I want to be here for everything else.
The tantrums, the scraped knees, the bedtime stories.
I want to coach her first T-ball game and let her paint my nails after.
I want all the firsts that I can have.” Wyatt squeezes my hands.
“I need them. Because I love her—just as much as I love you. I may not have been there at the start, but now? I’m here now, and I’m not going anywhere. ”
“You love us, too?” My brows furrow, and my voice trembles.
There’s no hesitation or hidden agenda. There’s no obligation or force behind the way he says it.
It’s raw and sincere. Something inside me splinters at the revelation.
Relief, maybe. I let the tears that have been building shatter free once more, and when he pulls me into his arms, I fall without pretest. Wyatt leans his head against mine without any hesitation he says, “Always.”
He holds me like he never plans to let me go, and I believe him.