Chapter 39
CHAPTER THIRTY-NINE
RACHEL
It’s been three days since Wyatt’s accident, and he’s moved into the anger stage, his frustration over being seriously injured palpable.
He’s crabby, going stir-crazy in the hospital, trapped in his bed until the physical therapy guy shows up.
He’s forcing Wyatt to try to walk already, despite the broken leg, which I think is ridiculous, but the nurses reassure me this is the best thing for Wyatt.
And when he’s not with the PT guy, Wyatt is grumbling in bed over everything.
Snapping at the nurses, his parents. Pretty much anyone who visits.
Including me.
The only person he’s soft for is his daughter, and Dottie came to visit only for a few minutes.
Nate sneaked her in because, for whatever reason, they have an age limit on visitors in this hospital, which I think is totally unfair.
The moment Dottie walked into his room, I witnessed the obvious melting effect she has on him.
But seeing her father like that made her nervous. Scared her a little bit too. She didn’t last long before she was asking her uncle Nate to take her back home. And when she said “home,” she was referring to her grandma and grandpa’s house.
The devastation on Wyatt’s face was heartbreaking.
I know he feels less than, but it’s like he can’t even see this is temporary.
He’ll be able to walk with no problems, the doctor told him.
Might have a minor limp if he puts too much strain on the leg, especially at first. But if he doesn’t try to speed up the process too soon, he should be fully healed and back to normal in a year.
A year. That’s what sent Wyatt into angry mode. He’s furious that he has to deal with all of this for a solid twelve months. He’s the type to try to hurry through the healing process, even though the doctor warned him point-blank that rushing any of this could cause further damage down the line.
Those words went in one ear and out the other. Nate is just as bad. Every time I’m in the room and he comes to visit, Nate gives Wyatt false hope. How he’ll be back at it in no time, and they can go on that dirt-bike excursion later this fall, just like they planned.
A dirt-bike excursion is the last thing Wyatt will be able to do for months. Maybe even years. I adore his little brother, but Nate is making everything worse every time he opens his big mouth.
Paige gave me time off from Mitchell’s so I could be with Wyatt, but eventually I couldn’t take it anymore, and I begged her to give me a shift, which is where I’m at now.
It’s late morning on Sunday, which is normally slow this time of day, so I’m back in the office with Paige, filling her in on everything.
“When are they releasing him?” she asks, sitting behind Misti’s desk. Misti doesn’t work Sundays, so we don’t have to worry about her walking in and catching us. Tara is working the window and the ice cream counter, and we told her to call us if she needs help.
“Sometime in the next few days. But they’re sending him straight to a rehabilitation center in Clovis.” I press my lips together. “He won’t even be here. And they’ll keep him in physical therapy there for at least a couple of weeks. It’s going to be intense.”
“It sounds intense.” Paige shakes her head. “Poor Wyatt. I’m sure he hates all of this.”
“He’s so mad, Paige.” My voice drops to a whisper. I hate complaining about him and his attitude, but I can’t get over it. “He’s, like, pissed at the world over what happened. He’s hard to talk to.”
“Is that why you wanted to work today?”
I nod. “I need the distraction. I know I can’t be upset with his attitude. I suppose I’d feel the same way if this happened to me too, but it’s . . . a lot.”
“When a McKinney man is angry, they’re not easy to be around.” Paige definitely has experience with this, and I’m secretly glad because she can relate to my plight. I can’t complain to anyone else about this.
“I’m thinking about . . . leaving.” I duck, my gaze on the floor, not wanting her to see my eyes. My face. But Paige is quiet for so long, I eventually have to lift my head. I find her staring at me with her mouth hanging open.
She snaps her jaw shut. “Leave, like, for good?”
“No.” Maybe. I don’t think I’m a help to Wyatt right now.
I feel more like a hindrance. A pain in his ass, and a burden on his family.
The woman who has no defined relationship with their son, brother.
We’ve never made anything official, Wyatt and I, so where does that leave me?
Not necessarily a part of their family, and more like I’m an outsider looking in.
It’s that nasty little reminder that I don’t really belong here after all.
“I should go back home and deal with my parents,” I explain when Paige hasn’t said anything else. “I’ve been avoiding them all summer, and we probably all need to talk. I can’t run away from my real life forever.”
That’s exactly what my father said to me. I’m just running away from my problems, and I need to face them. I need to grow up.
“Rachel, did you ever think that maybe this is your real life now? You’ve been here for a while, and you’ve made friends. You have a job. You have somewhere to live. You have a boyfriend,” Paige points out, her voice gentle.
I shake my head once. “It’s all part of my make-believe fantasy life, you know?
I don’t belong here. Not really. The job is temporary.
You don’t want me living in your spare room forever.
Wyatt and I have never defined our relationship.
And with everything that just happened to him, he might not . . . want me anymore.”
“Why would you think that?”
“He’s got so much to focus on, Paige. Can’t you see?
He needs to heal. He needs to do a lot of physical therapy.
And he also has a daughter to take care of.
I know his family is going to help him. I envy their closeness.
How none of them hesitate to be there for each other.
I don’t know what that’s like, and I wish I did. ”
“He’ll need you too.” Paige tries to smile at me, but I look away. There’s nothing to smile about in any of this. “You might not have discussed your relationship status with Wyatt, but I know he cares about you, Rachel. I’m sure he thinks you’re his girlfriend.”
“He’s never said that. I can’t assume anything.” I tilt my head back and sigh at the ceiling. “It isn’t fair how this happened. That stupid tree ruined everything. Why don’t I ever feel like I’m in control of my life? All of these things just keep happening to me, and I hate it.”
“Rachel. It’s not the tree’s fault. Life just .
. . happens. We can’t plan for everything.
And when the unexpected does happen, it’s how we react to the situation that defines us.
Sets us on the path where either we want to go or we don’t.
We may not be able to control what happens to us, but we can control how we react to it, and that’s the most important thing. ”
I hate Paige’s gentle tone and rational explanation. I don’t feel like being rational. I want to be ridiculous and dumb. I want to run away and never come back, because if I do leave? Just walk out of here, hop on a plane, and return to New York? I don’t know if Wyatt would ever take me back.
Maybe . . . just maybe . . . I want to run before he rejects me.
“Think about it,” she says when I remain silent. “You should at least talk to Wyatt before you go, don’t you think?”
“Of course I would.” I’m not that callous. The man just suffered a life-altering injury. For me to walk out of his life as if he never mattered would be completely heartless.
No, I need to let him down easy. And the sooner I do it . . .
The better.
* * *
After work I drop Paige off, and she lets me use her car to go to the hospital, which she’s done since the accident happened. She is a true lifesaver, and I consider her one of my dearest, closest friends.
I’m going to miss her when I’m gone.
By the time I’m on the floor where Wyatt’s room is, my nerves have calmed down some.
A sense of peace has settled over me because I know deep down I’m doing the right thing.
Even if I don’t want to do it, going home and spending time with my parents, explaining to them about my summer, will make me feel better.
We have unresolved issues I need to confront, and once I get that settled, I’ll come back here. Maybe.
Probably not.
I know myself. I’ll get caught back up in the nonsense that is my life.
I’ll go out to clubs and see people I know but don’t particularly care for.
I’ll go shopping nonstop, and my mother will encourage me to hide the receipts from my father.
I’ll travel. Maybe I’ll go to London for a bit and really face my fears, a.k.a.
Edmund Davies and his lovely little Cocksbury.
But what would I get out of that? More humiliation? Why would I do that to myself?
Maybe I’ll go to Paris.
Or Switzerland in the winter. I could go skiing. That sounds fun. I suppose those are the lies I need to keep telling myself.
Standing tall, I straighten my shoulders and march my way down the hall, smiling and saying hello to the nurses I recognize, and they all smile warmly at me in return.
I’ve only been coming here for a few days, but I feel like I know all of them.
Like I’m in some sort of trauma bond with them, which is ridiculous.
I’m just another woman in a long line of women that they’ve witnessed be distressed over the health of their men. I am no one special.
I broach the open doorway of Wyatt’s room and knock on the door, his head jerking up when I do. He’s still in bed, big and handsome and as grumpy as ever, but the bandage that was wound around his head is gone, and he’s looking more like his normal self.
“Hi.” I enter the room. “Your bandage is gone.”
“Yeah. It was starting to rub against the staples, and these things itch like crazy.” He scratches the back of his head, wincing. “How are you?”
“I’m okay.” I stay at the foot of his bed, afraid to get too close and grateful no one is in the bed next to him and that he doesn’t have visitors. At least I can say what I want to him without an audience. “How are you?”
“Fine.” He doesn’t sound fine. “They’re releasing me tomorrow. I’ll be in the rehabilitation facility for a few days. Hopefully not too long.”
“Don’t rush it. You need as much physical therapy for your leg as you can get so it can heal properly.”
He grimaces. “You sound like my mom.”
He makes it sound like a bad thing. “We’re just watching out for you.”
“Yeah, well, I want this shit to be over with. I’m tired of laying around. Sick of being in the hospital.” He glares at his leg as if it offended him, and I realize Paige’s words ring even truer.
“We may not be able to control what happens to us, but we can control how we react to it, and that’s the most important thing.”
Wyatt isn’t reacting well to his situation, and quite frankly, neither am I.
“I, uh, I wanted to tell you something,” I announce, deciding that I just need to rip the proverbial Band-Aid off and get it over with.
He frowns. “What is it?”
“I . . . have to go back home. To New York.”
His frown deepens. “Why? Did your dad demand you come back? You don’t have to do everything he says, Rach.”
“I know I don’t have to, and no, he didn’t make any demands on me. I decided to do this on my own.” I hesitate. “For myself.”
Wyatt stares at me in silence, and all I can do is stand here, dying to know what he’s thinking. Or maybe not. I don’t know.
“You’re leaving because of this.” He waves a hand around the room. Toward his leg. “You’re running away from me. Things get hard, and that’s what you do.”
I try not to let what he said bother me, but it does. I’m not running away. He’s pushing me away and doesn’t even realize it.
“No, I’m not. I just—you have a lot to concentrate on, and I’ll only get in the way of your progress.
You need to take time for yourself to heal, and you have Dottie to take care of too, and that’s a lot.
Your family will be there for you and help you with everything.
You’re in good hands. You don’t need me around right now, making a mess of things.
” I offer him a smile, but he scowls at me, and I realize that he’s going to be mad.
Fine. There’s no getting around it. He’s going to be angry, and he’s going to take it out on me, and that’s okay. I can be that for him. The mistake that should’ve never happened.
“Go ahead and go then.” He lifts his chin, a stubborn jut to his jaw that I don’t think I’ve ever seen before. “Looks like you’ve already made up your mind.”
Oh God. This . . . this isn’t how I expected him to react.
But how did I think it would go? Like he’d be all right with me bailing out and running back home?
I’m proving to him, to everyone I know, and especially to those who know me well, that I’m not made of stronger stuff.
When life gets tough, I run. I hide. This summer was a fluke.
An accident. One I’ll never duplicate again.
Soon enough it’ll be nothing but a fond period of my life when I decided to live in a small town for a few months.
And with enough distance and time, it’ll eventually become nothing but a faded memory.
None of the people here will even remember my name.
I’ll just be that city girl. The one who worked at Mitchell’s. The one who lived with Paige.
The one who broke Wyatt’s heart.
“I can stay for a little while longer.” I haven’t even bought a plane ticket yet. And that’s what I’m going to do. Buy my own plane ticket. I refuse to rely on my father to get home. I can do this without his help. “If you need me—”
“I don’t need you,” Wyatt bites out, his expression like stone. “Just—leave, Rachel. You should go. It’s obvious you don’t want to be here.”
Oh. That hurts. Fighting back tears, I turn, and without a word, I leave his room. Leave the hospital. Leave his life.
For good.