Chapter 57 Hunter
Hunter
I pull up the drive faster than I should, gravel kicking out behind me, my pulse pounding harder with every foot closer to that obnoxiously shiny BMW.
I barely kill the engine before I’m out of the truck, door slamming shut behind me.
Wren’s by the driveway, standing stiff, her arms crossed, eyes heavy with something between exhaustion and guilt.
And then there’s him—Nick, I’m guessing.
Dressed like he’s about to walk into a board meeting.
No one dresses that way unless they’re trying to impress someone, and the only person around here for him to impress . . . is Wren.
I gesture sharply in his direction, my eyes locked on Wren. “Really? Really?”
Nick looks slightly confused, his brows pulling together like he’s not sure what the hell he walked into, or maybe he’s wondering if this is the man who answered Wren’s phone that night and told him off. But before I can say anything else, a small blur shoots across the gravel.
Atticus.
He runs straight for me, his face beaming, and before I can process it, he’s got his arms around my waist, looking up like he’s been waiting for me to come back home.
“I knew you’d come back!” he says, his grin infectious. “Hunter, this is Nick. He came by to say he’s sorry he couldn’t be my dad.”
I freeze, my jaw still tight, but the fight’s bleeding out of me already. I glance at Nick, who suddenly looks sheepish. Small. Maybe even embarrassed. A fish out of water if I’ve ever seen one.
I bend down and scoop Atticus into my arms, settling him on my hip. He wraps his arms around my neck, his head resting there like it’s the most natural place in the world.
My eyes find Wren again, but she’s not meeting them. She looks caught—like a deer between two trucks speeding at full tilt. Her gaze flicks between me and Nick and Atticus, her mouth tight, saying nothing.
Nick clears his throat, shifting awkwardly. “I should get going.”
He looks at Atticus. “Be good for your mom, all right, buddy?”
Atticus nods, and Nick climbs into his car, the engine purring like a satisfied cat as he pulls back down the drive.
I watch the taillights until they disappear around the bend.
Wren walks over, gently lifting Atticus from my arms without looking at me.
“We’re going inside,” she says flatly. “It’s getting late. I need to get him to bed.”
I step forward, my voice low. “It’s only six thirty.”
“It’s been a long day,” she says, her eyes finally meeting mine, but they’re guarded. “Did you need something?”
I open my mouth, but nothing comes out. I knew what I was going to say—until I saw her ex-fiancé here. Then all I saw was red. All I could think about was what Natalie said about Wren not being over him. For a moment, it appeared it might be true.
All the things I came here to say took a back seat. Now Nick’s gone and she’s trying to do the same.
Wren watches me another beat, her eyes hollow, and then turns away, carrying Atticus up the porch steps and through the front door.
I stand in her front yard alone with my thoughts and all the things I came here to say—but didn’t.