Chapter 36
Wyatt
The park, bathed in the gentle glow of a mild winter day, held an air of both tranquility and tension as I waited on the bench. Alone, mostly, and quiet.
Mr. Michael Keaton nuzzled my knee, and I fed him another treat from my coat pocket. He’d been begging to go for a run since we got here, but I was afraid that if I got to my feet at all, I’d run all the way home without looking back.
The rhythmic ebb and flow of strangers, blissfully absorbed in their own worlds, became unwitting distractions against the backdrop of my inner turmoil.
Each passing second on my watch echoed the mounting anxiety inside me.
The temptation to call it off, to abandon the impending confrontation altogether, clawed at the edges of my mind.
But as much as I wanted to run and hide, I stayed glued to the park bench, reminding myself of the closure I sought. The closure I desperately needed.
Starting a new life—a new love—with Taylor meant that I had to push myself into growing and healing parts that I’d been fine to live with. Fine to ignore. Because as long as they stayed in the shadows, I was okay.
Michael Keaton whined softly.
“Enough for now, buddy. We need to watch that figure of yours now that you’re living the city life.”
I got the sad puppy eyes, and would’ve given in had I not seen a familiar figure at the far end of the park. He shouldn’t have been familiar, not after so many years.
And yet.
I couldn’t see his face. He was still too far away for that amount of clarity. But that night was branded on my mind in such a way that I didn’t need to see his face to see it. The look of disbelief in his eyes.
Because who would ever believe that the love of their life was no longer there? Not when you were both so young, with your lives still ahead, a new baby having just taken its first breath…
Michael Keaton remained a grounding force, even after I denied him another treat.
He kept close, his steady presence reminding me that I wasn’t alone in this.
The ordinary serenity of the park, punctuated by the laughter of children and the rustle of leaves, stood in stark contrast to the storm brewing inside me.
Time was running short with the figure advancing in my direction, but echoes of self-doubt and guilt reverberated through my mind, threatening to drown out whatever reason had kept me waiting.
With each breath, I wrestled with myself to find the strength, determined to get over myself and cast light on the shadows that had held me hostage all these years.
Fingers buried in Michael Keaton’s thick fur, I found myself caught in a volatile dance between wanting closure and the intense fear of facing my past demons.
Then, for no reason whatsoever, Taylor popped into my head.
Her reassuring voice, warm and tender. Her soft smile that she reserved for when I was feeling particularly anxious.
If I chickened out of this, I wouldn’t be able to bear explaining it to her.
She’d come at me with understanding the way she usually did, but she’d be disappointed.
I’d know it for certain without her saying anything.
All she wanted was for me to be okay. To come out on the other side of this tempest that had been buffeting me around for so long. She believed—before I ever did—that I was strong enough to make it happen.
Michael Keaton’s sharp bark made me jump in place, yanking me out of my thoughts and back into the present moment.
The park. The man who was still approaching, one hand buried in his jeans pocket, the other clinging to that of a little girl with pigtails that swung wildly as she skipped along by his side.
I tightened my grip on Michael Keaton’s lead.
He was straining excitedly to join a game of catch that had started up in front of us.
He wasn’t used to being restrained and although he went with it for the most part, there were times when he made me feel like I was betraying him.
With one eye on the kids playing, and another on the man, I used every ounce of resolve to keep my shit together.
“Easy, boy.” I gave his lead a slight tug to get him to heel. “You’ll get time to play soon, I promise. Just give me a few minutes, okay? Can you do that, buddy?”
He stopped trying to get away from me and sat back down. Sad puppy eyes, large pink tongue panting away. He really knew how to make me feel guilty.
“I don’t need any more of that right now,” I muttered, forcing my gaze from him. But I gave him a firm rubbing anyway, so he knew I still loved him most in this world.
That seemed to work, and instead of drooling after some stranger’s ball, Michael Keaton rested his head on my lap so I could have better access to that sweet spot behind his ears.
“Good boy,” I said absently, my eyes glued on the winding path to our left. On the man and his daughter walking along that path.
I swallowed, but nothing was going to get my heart out of my throat. Not just yet, anyway. This was one of those ‘only way out is through’ situations, and I had to suck it up and get on with it. Even with my knees shaking and my stomach churning somersaults.
“I’d be lying if I said I wasn’t totally thrown to receive a text from you.” There was nothing accusatory about the way he looked at me once they’d drawn up to us. Nothing harsh or hateful about his tone of voice, either.
Taylor would think that was a mercy, but it only made me feel worse. It would’ve been easier if he hated me as much as I hated myself.
“Gary, hi.” I stretched out my hand, hoping he wouldn’t pick up on how much I was shaking. Ready to blame the cold if he did.
His skin was warm when he took my hand, and so was his smile. He tugged his daughter to stand between us, offering the hand in his to me.
“Say hello to Aunty Wyatt, Hazel,” he said lightly. “You don’t remember, but she’s the kind lady who caught you when you were born.”
The little girl’s big brown eyes widened in alarm, her eyebrows shooting up. “Like a frisbee?”
Gary chuckled, and even I managed a nervous laugh.
“Not quite,” I replied, crouching down to shake her hand in an overly formal manner. “You weren’t zooming that fast, but you were pretty slippery.”
Her eyebrows furrowed as she considered my description. “Like a water balloon? Andy says I was a monkey when I was a baby. A baby monkey. Was I a monkey?”
“Okay, tyke, let’s ease up on the questions.” Gary came to my rescue. “We haven’t even said hello to the cute doggy.”
Hazel was instantly distracted when she realized I wasn’t alone at the bench, and the usual excitement ensued. And, as usual, Michael Keaton lapped it all up in that special way he had about him. Endless patience, with a bit of his trademark sass.
“Thank you,” I said when I stood up again. “I wasn’t sure you’d want to meet with me after…”
Gary dropped his head, nodding slowly. “It wasn’t easy, and for the longest time I was so eaten up by anger that I wanted nothing to do with any of you people.”
Even then, revisiting the memory of that night, the accusation was absent from his voice. It made me want to cry right then and there.
“I’m not going to lie to you, Wyatt.” He looked at me again, his eyes moist with the threat of emotion. “It was rough. She was my world, and we- we had so many plans.”
“I’m so sorry, Gary.” My voice trembled, and I bit the inside of my lip. A stab of pain to shock me into some semblance of composure. It worked, for the time being, anyway. “There’s no excuse for what happened. It was on my watch, and I should’ve-”
His firm grip on my shoulder silenced the rest of my spiral. It also brought the tears I was fighting right to the front of my eyes. I breathed in a sharp breath and held it. Waited.
“I fought with it for longer than anyone should fight these things. For some kind of sense, answers.” He spoke with a measured compassion that threatened to rip the ground from beneath my feet.
“And what I learned is that sometimes we have to accept that there won’t be.
What sense is there in losing someone you love?
If that made sense, then it wouldn’t hurt, right?
And if it doesn’t hurt, then it isn’t love. Right?”
“I sure as hell don’t have answers,” I replied with a teary laugh. “But it sounds about right, the way you’re explaining it.”
He nodded, taking a second to check on Hazel and Michael Keaton before settling down on the bench with me. She’d taken him onto the path and they were running races together, my Lab careful to let her win every now and again.
“She looks just like her.” It came out of my mouth without me knowing it would, and my breath hitched as I stared at him, wishing for the earth to open up and swallow me whole. “Sorry, I just meant that-”
“You can stop saying that.” He placed a comforting hand on my leg.
“I mean it, you have nothing to be sorry about. But at the same time, I know that you are. I can see it in your eyes. See the way it pushes down on your shoulders. I’ve been walking with that same posture ever since.
I’m sorry too. Sorry as hell that it had to go that way.
But it’s not my fault either, Wyatt. I never blamed you, and I know for a fact that Serena wouldn’t. ”
My gaze flickered over to his daughter, where she was tumbling around with Michael Keaton in a wrestling match.
“Yeah, Hazel neither,” he said, reading my mind.
“If anything, she knows she owes you her life. I owe you for making sure my baby girl made it out that night. In the middle of a thunderstorm, in the middle of a highway. You made the right choice. The same choice my wife would’ve made a hundred times over. ”
Tears were streaming unbidden down my cheeks, fiery hot against the bite in the air.
I couldn’t hold them back if I tried. Forgiveness was the last thing I could’ve hoped for.
But this—Gary telling me that there was nothing to forgive—I hadn’t expected that.
I was moved beyond comprehension by his compassion and understanding. I didn’t feel like I deserved it.
A squeal of laughter fluttered through the surrounding air, and we both looked over to find Michael Keaton drowning Hazel in enthusiastic kisses while she rolled around on the cold ground.
“That calls for a second bath time when we get home.” Gary gave a subdued laugh. His love for his daughter shone clear as day in his eyes.
“I’m sorry, I’ll get him off.” I moved to stand, but Gary held me back, looking at me firmly.
“What for? Look at her…”
Hazel screeched again, her delight bubbling over and infecting Michael Keaton even more.
“His tongue feels funny when he licks me, Daddy,” she said, rolling this way and that to try to dodge, but also immensely enjoying the Lab’s affections.
I sank back onto the bench with a sigh and smiled at him. “Does she have a dog? It looks like she’s ready for one.”