Chapter 20
This Year
“H OW DO YOU F EEL?” Chloe asks.
“Like death vomited in my mouth.” Marianne groans as she rolls over in bed. “And my boobs feel like lumpy boulders.”
Chloe tries to be helpful and asks, “Want me to grab your pump?”
Marianne nods and sits up in bed. “How are you so awake? And sparkly? You look too good to be hungover.”
“I stopped drinking around ten,” Chloe says. She doesn’t admit that she’s been up for two hours already. She’s showered and changed her outfit twice. Because she needs something to occupy her time, but she’s too scared to leave the room.
“I meant to pump before bed,” Marianne complains. “But I didn’t. I even slept through the overnight pump. Did I drink all the wine last night?”
“You and Sloane were an excellent support system. It was wine consumed out of love.”
Marianne assembles her pump parts and turns on the machine. “How are you feeling? How many people do we hate at this moment? Luke? Wyatt? Is there a hatred winner?”
Chloe shakes her head. “I don’t hate either of them. I’m still sorting through those feelings.” She sighs. “Actually, I do hate Luke a little bit.”
Marianne shifts on the bed. “Go ahead. Sort. You might need to talk a little louder because of the whirring of this torture machine. But I’m here to listen. And for what it’s worth, I hate Luke a lot right now.”
There’s a knock on the door, and Marianne reaches for the sheet to cover her chest. Chloe cracks the door open and sees Sloane on the other side. She has an iced coffee in each hand and a bag of something that smells like carbohydrate heaven.
Marianne moans when Sloane walks in the room. “You are the best. Please tell me there is something delicious in that bag.”
Sloane pulls out a flaky croissant and a glazed doughnut.
“I will fight you for that doughnut.” Marianne maneuvers the pump so that it is perched against her left forearm and holds out her right hand.
“You can have the doughnut,” Chloe says.
Sloane plops on the bed. “How are we feeling this morning?”
“I am feeling very hungover, and Chloe was about to discuss her feelings.”
“Skip me,” Chloe says. “Let’s talk about you guys first.”
Sloane and Marianne both laugh. “Why do you always avoid difficult conversations?” Sloane asks.
“I don’t do that,” Chloe says.
Marianne tilts her head to the side. “You delayed breaking up with Luke until he was on his knee proposing.”
“Maybe,” Chloe mumbles. “Let me eat. You two talk first.” Chloe takes a giant bite of her croissant before they can protest.
“How’s Alden?” Marianne asks Sloane.
“Still upset.” Sloane picks at a piece of lint on the bedspread. “We barely spoke this morning.” She quickly looks up and says to Chloe, “But he promises that he didn’t know anything about Luke.”
“I believe that,” Chloe says. “Because Alden is a very good person who cares deeply about his wife and her health.”
Sloane holds up her hand. “I know. But I want children. Alden needs to accept that I’m going to do whatever it takes.”
“He’s asking you to take care of yourself when you clearly aren’t,” Chloe blurts. “Sloane, what happened in that nursery was scary. You need a break. That’s obvious to everyone except you.”
Sloane doesn’t answer. Instead, she reaches for Chloe’s croissant and tears off a giant piece, shoving it in her mouth. “Let’s change topics,” she says, holding a hand over her still chewing mouth.
“I’m sorry. I shouldn’t have said anything,” Chloe immediately apologizes, seeing the anger on Sloane’s face.
“I always hold it together. I lost it once, and now everyone thinks I’m not fit to be a mother.”
“No!” Chloe and Marianne shout together. “That’s not what I mean,” Chloe adds. “You are going to be a wonderful mother. But you’ve been through so much. Give yourself time to heal before you try again.”
“It’s my decision,” Sloane says.
“You’re right,” Chloe agrees.
“I get it,” Marianne adds. “I was desperate to have Teddy, and if I had been through what you’ve gone through, I would have burned the house down. Whatever you want to do, I support you. And I know Alden does too.”
Marianne tries to take a bite of her doughnut, but her arm slips and the pump falls off. Her nipple seems to have gotten caught in the suction and she yelps in pain. When the half-full bottle of breast milk falls to the floor, Marianne repeats, “No, no, no, no, no.”
Only a few tablespoons spill, and Chloe hands Marianne a washcloth, but she sees tears forming in her friend’s eyes.
“I hate this!” Marianne yells.
“Can you be more specific?” Chloe sheepishly asks. “There’s a lot to hate right now.”
“I hate being tied to that stupid machine. I hate the fact that I’m going to have to pour this milk down the drain because it might have too much alcohol in it. I hate that I’m sitting here with my tits out and not in a fun way. I hate that you guys have no idea how much I hate this.” Marianne sighs and sits on the floor, leaning against the bed.
“Can you stop pumping?” Chloe tries to fix the problem that seems to have the easiest solution.
But the look Marianne and Sloane give Chloe suggests that this is not an appropriate question to ask.
“Teddy spits up all the formula. It took me months of pumping to save enough milk so I could leave him, and now it doesn’t even feel worth it.”
“That’s my fault,” Sloane says softly.
“No, it’s not,” Marianne quickly replies. “Forget I said anything. Hangover-induced neuroses.”
“I wasn’t there for you. And you needed me. Talk to me now,” Sloane says.
Chloe doesn’t take offense at this statement. She’s never been one of those people who fantasize about motherhood. It seems low on the list of identities she needs to explore in life, and Sloane and Marianne have always known that. One of the many ways they are incredible friends is because they’ve never made Chloe feel lesser because she’s missing a maternal yearning, which is even more remarkable because Sloane and Marianne have talked about motherhood since they first met. Potential baby names, the funny quirks about birth order, whether matching outfits are acceptable—these are common discussions between Sloane and Marianne. So Chloe understands what Sloane means. In the last year, Marianne hasn’t been able to continue those discussions with Sloane. Sloane pulled away at the penultimate moment.
Marianne turns to Sloane and says, “I’m not talking about my insignificant complaints. Especially not to you.”
“Yes, you should,” Sloane says.
Marianne waves her hand dismissively. “It’s okay. I’ll be fine.”
“Marianne, I’m serious. I can handle hearing about your life. I need to hear about your life, and I’m sorry I’ve been too selfish to realize that.” Chloe watches as Sloane’s earnest apology seems to work. Marianne smiles, and Chloe feels like she can breathe again.
Marianne exhales. “I think about Teddy constantly. I feel so guilty for leaving him with Noah, even though I thought I was going to lose my mind if I didn’t leave. And it is so much more work. It’s easier to let him nurse whenever he wants. But then it feels like my life is over. I can never wear a dress without thinking about boob access. I can never leave my kid. I’m going to be a leaky, floppy, self-serve machine for the rest of my life.” Marianne stares at the ceiling and then shouts, “And I’m a horrible person for thinking any of this!”
Sloane reaches out and grabs Marianne’s hand. “I think most moms feel like this. It doesn’t make you horrible. It’s not forever. Most kids eventually eat food.”
“Sometimes it feels like forever.” Marianne squeezes Sloane’s hand and then lets go. She slumps forward, burying her face in her hands. “I thought this week would be good for me. I wanted to take a break. But it might be making things harder.”
“Because you miss Teddy?” Chloe asks.
“No. I mean yes, of course I miss him. But I think I might miss me more.”
Chloe sits on the opposite side of Marianne, all three friends huddled on the floor. “What do you mean?” Chloe asks.
“It’s hard to be anything other than his mother. Even here, I’m still coming back to pump, and I’m swaying back and forth constantly because I spend so much of my life rocking a baby. I love being a mother. I’ve always wanted to be a mother. I just didn’t realize that once I became a mother it would feel like it erased every other part of me.”
“You can go back to teaching,” Chloe suggests.
“I know. But I don’t want to miss any moments with him. But I also want more time to myself. And I get that it sounds like those are two opposite things. And it’s impossible. But that’s what I need.”
“Have you talked to Noah about all of this?” Sloane gently asks.
“No, there never seems to be a good time to tell your husband that you’re failing as a mother.”
“First of all, you’re not failing,” Sloane quickly responds. “Second, I guarantee the minute Noah gets down here he is going to have a whole new perspective after almost a week alone with a baby. Talk to him. You two can fix this problem together.”
“Like you and Alden?” Marianne raises her eyebrows,
Sloane wags her finger. “Nope. Not my turn.”
“I’ve talked about my boobs enough for a lifetime. Chloe, you’re up.”
“We talked about me last night. Over multiple bottles of wine,” Chloe protests.
“No. We man-bashed Luke and Wyatt. But we didn’t really talk about how you feel. Or what you’re going to do.”
Chloe thinks about everything that happened last night, last year, and all the secrets kept and how much they’ve fractured their friendships. For once, she doesn’t hesitate. She wants to tell her friends what happened because she’s tired of hiding the biggest parts of her life from the people she loves.
“I’m still upset, but I understand Wyatt.” Chloe swallows. “I talked to him. After I left you guys.”
“Did he grovel?” Marianne asks.
“Did you make him cry?” Sloane adds.
“No. He explained himself.” Chloe takes a deep breath. “And then we kissed.”
Sloane yells. Not a subtle, childlike squeal, but a full-body, searching for a missing person scream.
Within moments, Alden’s voice is on the other side of the door asking, “What’s wrong? Is everyone okay? Can I come in?”
“My boobs are out,” Marianne stutters. “You can’t come in. Sloane thought she saw a mouse,” Marianne lies. “We’re fine,” she lies even more.
After ten long seconds, ensuring that Alden isn’t hovering at the door, Sloane finally scream-whispers, “What do you mean you kissed Wyatt? Accidentally? Did he fall onto your lips?”
Chloe shakes her head. “No. It was on purpose.”
Marianne closes her eyes briefly and then slowly asks, “How did this happen?”
“He told me he loved me,” Chloe admits.
Sloane yells again. “He loves you?”
“Sloane, please whisper. They are all in this house.” Chloe makes a large swirling gesture, reflecting the chaos of all the men she does not want to witness this conversation.
“Not Luke. We don’t know where he went,” Marianne says.
“What do you mean?” Chloe asks.
Sloane shrugs. “He didn’t come back to the house last night. I peeked into his room this morning. He’s not there.”
“Did he go home?” Chloe isn’t sure what answer she wants. She can’t imagine never speaking to Luke again. But they live in different cities. Is it possible that after all of Chloe’s efforts to find a way to mend their friendship, Luke is going to be the one who refuses to reconnect? And if so, does Chloe even care at this point?
“We don’t know. Maybe. But let’s get back to the Wyatt kissing thing. Because I need more details,” Marianne says.
“Was it a good kiss?” Sloane asks.
Chloe feels her face burn. Good seems like an inadequate description. Chloe unconsciously brushes her thumb against her bottom lip, revisiting the sensation of her mouth pressed against Wyatt’s. Her heart races at the memory. Because it was a kiss that kept her up all night. She wanted more, and yet she couldn’t sort the confused feelings swirling in her brain.
She had two goals for this week: support Sloane and try to find a way to navigate her friendships without being Luke’s girlfriend. The week is almost over and she’s failed at both. There’s no way kissing Wyatt makes an already complicated friendship dynamic any easier. And although this morning has gone better than yesterday, she realizes that she needs to be a better friend to both Sloane and Marianne, who are going through much more than Chloe realized.
“It was good,” Chloe admits. “But it shouldn’t happen again. Right?”
Sloane and Marianne glance back and forth, each of them waiting for the other to answer first.
“Why do you think it shouldn’t happen again?” Sloane asks.
“Because Luke was barely talking to me at the beginning of this trip. Kissing his best friend isn’t going to improve communication.”
“Why do you care if communication with Luke is improved?” Marianne asks.
“Because of you guys.”
“What do we have to do with you and Luke?”
Chloe pauses, slightly upset that her friends are making her say the thing they all know already. “Because you guys are Luke’s friends,” Chloe pleads. “I’m the add-on girlfriend. If Luke and I aren’t speaking, I lose my friendship with everyone, and I don’t want that to happen. It’s been lonely this last year. I tried to give Luke space, but that just meant I spent most of the year without my best friends.”
“Are you insane?” Sloane blurts.
“Obviously she is,” Marianne quickly adds.
“None of us could figure out why you kept canceling. Making excuses to avoid us. We may have met you through Luke, but you are our friend. And so is Luke, even though I dislike him immensely right now. Our friendship doesn’t disappear just because you made the obviously wise decision not to marry Luke.” Sloane’s voice is firm, and it’s almost convincing.
Chloe rolls her eyes. “You have to say that, but don’t you see how this goes? Luke and I are awkward around each other, and that makes everyone else feel awkward, so we end up doing things separately, and you guys get tired of repeating the same stories twice, so then you end up just picking the person you like more, and Luke makes better cocktails and throws more fun parties, so obviously it’s going to be him.”
“That was a spiral,” Sloane says out of the side of her mouth to Marianne.
“You should basically move into a van by the river,” Marianne says to Chloe. “Things seem dire.”
“I’m serious,” Chloe says, and even though she hates it, she starts to cry. “You have Noah and Teddy. A family.” She looks over at Sloane, her voice softening. “And you have Alden. And you both still have your parents. And, based on your weddings, entirely too many cousins.”
Chloe takes a deep breath, trying to control the emotions that have been running wild over the last twenty-four hours. “This friendship, with you two, but also with Alden and Wyatt and even Luke, is very important to me. It’s everything to me. Losing my friends feels like losing a chunk of my body.”
Marianne winces. “That’s a disturbing visual.”
Chloe groans. “You know what I mean.”
“Yes. I do,” Sloane says. “Because I feel the same way. I don’t know if Alden and I will be able to have children.” Sloane seems to stumble over this admission, as if it’s the first time she’s letting herself think about that possibility. “But I feel responsible for the five of you, and I’d do anything to keep us together.”
“It’s going to be different,” Marianne softly says. “For all of us. But we are going to figure it out together, this adult life we never expected. We have to.”
The three women hold hands, and Sloane starts humming “Kumbaya,” and Marianne kicks her ankle. Even though there are no answers and no plan, Chloe does feel a little bit better.
“Back to Wyatt.” Sloane’s eyebrows jump. “Do you like him? Do you love him back?”
Chloe fumbles with her braid. “I think a part of me has always wondered about Wyatt. There’s been this tension with us. And I never knew what to do with it. Other than bicker.”
Marianne has a mischievous smirk on her face when she says, “Then maybe you should go figure that out.”
Chloe shakes her head. “I can’t.”
“Yes, you can,” Sloane orders. “If things between you and Wyatt are meant to be, we, as a group, will figure out how to navigate that newness in our friendship. Only losers let fear drive their decisions.”
“He’s a great guy,” Marianne adds.
“And his body.” Sloane bites her lip.
“And that hair,” Marianne moans.
“We’ve all had our Wyatt fantasies,” Sloane says. “But for us, he’s untouchable. Always has been.”
“He should be for me too,” Chloe comments. “He’s Luke’s best friend. Plus, I’m nothing like the women he dates.”
“You mean you smile and don’t think pop culture is beneath you?” Marianne asks.
“Yes,” Chloe blurts. “And I eat the whole pint of Ben & Jerry’s by myself. Nothing in my closet is black. I’m five four in heels. Wyatt likes skinny, mean giraffes.”
“But he loves you,” Sloane scream-whispers.
“What did his stomach feel like?” Marianne asks.
“There wasn’t much stomach grazing during the kissing,” Chloe answers.
Sloane swats at Chloe’s arm. “Please go graze that man’s stomach and report back.”
“Why aren’t you guys more freaked out about this? Don’t you feel like Wyatt is your brother?” Chloe asks.
“First, I don’t have a brother,” Sloane says. “Second, I’m married, not blind. Third, the more I think about this, the more it makes so much sense.”
Marianne nods. “I agree. You two actually make a lot more sense than you and Luke.”
Hearing his name is a reality check for Chloe. “How do you think Luke will react?”
Sloane shrugs. “I’m not sure. But Luke’s reaction shouldn’t be your concern. At all.”
Chloe opens her mouth to protest, but Sloane holds up her hand, continuing. “He cheated on you for years. Isolated you from your friends after the breakup. You spent a decade of your life making decisions around Luke. Stop thinking about someone who doesn’t deserve your time.”
“Hard agree.” Marianne adds. “Go kiss the moody writer. And report back.” Marianne pulls Chloe to her feet and pushes her toward the door.
“Now that you’ve finished pumping, want to grab a mimosa?” Sloane asks Marianne. “Since I’m not pregnant, I can actually drink instead of just pretending.”
Marianne groans. “I’m still hungover.”
“So that’s a yes?” Sloane says.
Marianne pretends to drag her feet but lets a small smile escape. “That’s a yes.”
“One stop before the kitchen,” Sloane says. “I have a bag of stuff for you.”
Marianne holds up her hand. “No more dresses, Sloane. I can’t wear this stuff at home anyway. Teddy would spit up all over it.”
“It’s not dresses. It’s the baby gifts I bought.” Sloane swallows. “I kept seeing things I wanted you to have, but I was too jealous to celebrate.” Sloane’s jaw moves back and forth. “Teddy will have outgrown some of the stuff, but I want you to open them now.”
“Are you sure?” Marianne says softly.
“Yes.” Sloane answers firmly. Then she turns to Chloe. “Why are you still standing there and not kissing a man right now?”
Chloe wraps her arms around her two friends, happy to see them mended or moving in that direction at least. “The three of us make me very happy.”
“The gifts are in the nursery. Watch out for all the broken stuff,” Sloane says over her shoulder as she opens the door that’s been closed for the last two days.
They all stand immobile in the doorway, confronted with the shards of debris from Sloane’s breakdown. “I really lost it,” Sloane whispers.
“What’s that smell?” Marianne asks.
Chloe wrinkles her nose. “It’s like fish. Or a dead animal.”
Sloane waves her hand. “It’s all these extra boys in the house. Don’t you remember our apartment in New York? I’ll open some windows and turn on the diffuser.”
Marianne and Sloane go into the room, their arms wrapped around each other, and Chloe heads in the opposite direction.
She stands outside Wyatt’s door for almost thirty seconds, the entire time debating whether this is a mistake or not. As she raises her hand to knock, the door opens.
Unlike last night, Wyatt is fully dressed. Same black T-shirt, as usual, a gray bathing suit, and wet hair, probably straight from the shower. When Chloe looks into his eyes, he seems like he had just as much trouble sleeping as she did.
“Hi,” he whispers.
Chloe swallows. She’s nervous. And she’s never nervous around Wyatt. But then again, she’s never been thinking about Wyatt’s hard stomach, and his firm lips, and she’s going to kill Sloane and Marianne for putting all of these thoughts into her head, because now she can’t concentrate around Wyatt.
“Hi,” she says. Her voice is strangely low. She was trying to overcompensate for her nerves by sounding confident, and instead she sounds like a seventy-year-old male smoker. “Hi,” she repeats, this time in her normal voice.
“You okay?” Wyatt asks.
Chloe shakes her head. “Nope. Not at all okay.”
“Want to come in and talk about it?”
“Uh-huh,” Chloe stutters. She looks over her shoulder. Still no sign of Luke. Sloane and Marianne already know. And probably Alden too, because Sloane is the worst secret keeper in the history of the world. Besides, going into Wyatt’s room is normal. She’s done it dozens of times.
Except this time Wyatt reaches out and grabs Chloe’s hand. His is warm and completely envelops her petite fingers. Chloe finds herself wishing he’d never let go, while also wondering how sweaty her nervous palm feels against his hand.
They sit on Wyatt’s bed, and he squeezes her hand before releasing it. She stares at her bare feet because looking into Wyatt’s eyes will likely set her on fire with embarrassment.
He runs his hand through his dark hair, mussing what was previously combed back. “I freaked you out with my confession last night, didn’t I?”
She swallows and picks at a tiny string on his bedspread. “I’m feeling a little overwhelmed.”
He smirks. “Understatement?”
“Maybe.” She looks up. Despite the chaos in her brain, his sparkling grin immediately puts her at ease.
Wyatt shifts to the side, his shoulder brushing against Chloe’s. “How about we slow things down? You’re single. I’m single. Would you be interested in hanging out sometime?”
It sounds natural, a phrase Wyatt has probably uttered hundreds of times over the years. But he’s saying it to Chloe, and the absurdity of this suggestion is laughable.
“I have known you for ten years. You are my ex-boyfriend’s best friend. There is no simple ‘hanging out,’ Wyatt.”
He looks at the ceiling and then back to Chloe. “I know that. That’s why I went straight to the big love declaration. But now that I’ve scared you off, I’m trying an alternative approach.”
“I have an idea,” she says. “Let’s best-case-scenario this.”
He turns so that his whole body is facing Chloe. “Does that mean you want to put yourself in a scenario with me?”
“Maybe,” she says too fast. “Yes.” She swallows. “I think so. We need to talk it out first, and then I can answer that question.”
“Okay. Best case scenario. You’re one of my best friends. I love everything about you. Even the most annoying things you do.”
Chloe scrunches her nose. “Like what?”
“You make everyone read their horoscopes, you hold up your pointer finger and thumb so that you can tell the difference between left and right, and you seem incapable of counting silently.” Wyatt rattles off this list entirely too quickly for Chloe’s comfort. But he’s right. She does do all of these things.
Wyatt continues. “I’ve waited a long time for this, Chloe. Not just all those years of fighting my feelings while you were with Luke. But I wanted to make sure you had enough space and time after your breakup. If you tell me that you need more time, that you aren’t ready, then I can keep waiting. Because you’re worth waiting for. There’s no one like you, Chloe.”
She stares into his eyes. It’s rare to feel appreciated by someone, but when a person knows you as well as Wyatt knows her, it feels almost too lucky.
“Best case scenario,” he says. “Whenever you’re ready, we love each other as hard as we can, for as long as we can, and all the friends in our lives who love us are happy that we found each other.”
“But what happens when it ends?” Her voice is shaky. “What’s going to happen with our friends? I don’t want to lose them or you.”
“I think the best case is that it doesn’t end, Chloe.” Wyatt’s hands weave into her hair, eventually cupping her cheeks.
“I’m scared,” she whispers. She takes a deep breath and stares into his eyes. “But I think I’m more scared of missing out on this.”
It’s all the confirmation Wyatt needs. He leans over and his lips connect with hers.
Chloe loses herself in Wyatt’s arms. Any hesitation is erased the moment she feels his fingers slide underneath her shirt and up her back. It’s been hours of wondering, debating, daydreaming about this moment. But if she’s being honest, maybe it’s been years. Because Wyatt has always been there. Always been in the back of her mind. And now he’s pressed against her body. His lips teasing her neck as her heart races faster.
He lifts her off the floor and spins her around, lowering her onto the bed. As he hovers over her body, her hands moving up and down the length of his torso, he asks, “You sure?”
She smiles. “Less talking. More touching.”
She lifts her arms into the air and he willingly accepts her invitation, removing her shirt before diving back down for deeper kisses and the electrifying sensation of their bare skin together.
What starts with a mutual frenzy of movements, hands groping every inch of each other’s bodies, soon slows into gentle reverence.
Wyatt shows Chloe he loves her with his hands.
Wyatt shows Chloe he loves her with his mouth.
Wyatt uses every inch of his body to show Chloe how much she is desired.
And as Chloe moans Wyatt’s name, she wonders why she ever thought this could be a mistake.
Afterward, Wyatt wraps his arms tightly around Chloe’s body. Her head rests on his chest, listening to every thump of his heartbeat as he absently runs his fingers through her hair. All of the uncertainty of the last day disappears. Lying next to Wyatt feels right, and after so much chaos, it’s the calmest she’s felt. Their bodies melt into each other, and the only time he breaks their embrace is to pull on a pair of boxers and toss her one of his t-shirts, immediately returning to the bed, slipping under the blanket as Chloe wraps her leg over his side. They stay tangled together for hours, or maybe minutes, because time is irrelevant when you are finally in the right place.
But then the door creaks open.
They hear a familiar voice.
Luke pokes his head in Wyatt’s room and then immediately pulls back. “Shit. Sorry, Wyatt. I didn’t know you had someone in here.”
Chloe dives under the covers. All the blood drains from her face, because this can’t be happening. She’s half naked in Wyatt’s bed while her ex-boyfriend is a few feet away. She can feel the warmth of Wyatt’s leg pressed against hers while the echo of Luke’s voice rings in her ears.
“Can we talk later?” Luke asks Wyatt through the cracked door. “About the other night.”
“Sure,” Wyatt responds. Chloe is impressed Wyatt can hide the panic in his voice. For a brief moment, Chloe thinks maybe they’ve avoided this utter disaster. She lowers the sheet slightly, searching for Wyatt’s eyes and confirmation that every decision she’s made this morning wasn’t a complete and total mistake.
But then Luke laughs and pushes open the door slightly, his hand waving through the opening as he says, “Sorry about the interruption.” Chloe sees his hand and immediately pulls the cover back over her head.
Maybe it’s the motion that alerts him. Or maybe it’s her T-shirt by the door. Chloe’s worn MoMA T-shirt that Wyatt threw across the room earlier, with its bold green color that stands out among Wyatt’s discarded clothing.
Because the next thing Chloe knows, Luke throws the door open.
She can hear his heavy breathing. The stomp of his footsteps across the room as he brazenly yanks back the sheet. The way time seems to stop when their eyes connect, Luke staring at Chloe first, then over to Wyatt, before fury erupts across his face.
Luke screams, “Why is Chloe in your bed?”
Chloe’s lip trembles as she scoots back against the headboard, bringing the sheet bunched up to her chin. She wants to answer. She wants to explain and defend and tell Luke to leave and to apologize, but she doesn’t do any of these things. She’s silent.
Wyatt stands in front of Chloe, instinctively creating a buffer. He holds up his hands. “Let’s talk—” he starts to say.
But before he can finish, Wyatt’s head snaps back as Luke’s fist connects with his jaw.
Wyatt doesn’t move. He rubs the side of his face. “Fine. I guess I deserve that. Ready to talk now?”
Luke clearly doesn’t want to talk, because he runs straight for Wyatt, his shoulder barreling into Wyatt’s stomach.
Chloe presses her body against the headboard as she watches Wyatt take two more punches in the stomach, all the while she’s shouting at Luke to stop and pleading for anyone to come help.
Finally, Wyatt shoves Luke away, and when Luke comes back for more, Wyatt swings, his fist connecting with Luke’s nose. Blood pours down the front of Luke’s rumpled shirt.
There is a look of shock on Luke’s face, as if he can’t imagine that Wyatt hit back. And then pure rage. Luke tackles Wyatt to the floor and pins him down. He’s swinging, again and again, as Wyatt holds his arms around his head.
Alden, Sloane, and Marianne rush into the room. Chloe watches as their eyes briefly dart from the two men fighting to Chloe huddled in the corner, half-dressed in Wyatt’s room.
Alden pulls Luke off Wyatt. Sloane steps in between them. Marianne rushes to Chloe’s side.
Everyone’s breathing is rapid, eyes darting as silent judgments of this scenario bounce around their heads. Alden suggests that Luke go for a walk. Sloane asks Wyatt if he realizes the doors have locks. Marianne holds Chloe tighter.
Chloe looks around the room. Luke shrugs out of Alden’s restraint and his eyes meet Chloe’s. Through the blur of tears, she sees his jaw tremble before he storms away, the echo of the front door slamming filling the now quiet house. Sloane offers Wyatt a towel to hold over the cut on his left brow.
Chloe trembles as she thinks about all the different ways she could have handled this situation. She should have talked to Luke, about too many things to count. She and Wyatt could have waited. And they definitely could have locked the door. Somehow, she has taken a bad situation and made it even worse. Chloe cries in the corner, choked sobs at the realization that this is the very worst case scenario.
And yet, as terrible as this day began, Chloe has no idea that the night is going to end up being even worse.