Chapter 41
WYATT
I feel Maddie pulling away before I’ve even had a chance to catch my breath.
As I roll to my side, she slides off the bed and wraps herself in a bathrobe, leaving the room without a word.
I close my eyes, a pressure settling on my chest as I sit up and remove the condom, looking around the room for a trash can.
Somewhere beyond the bedroom, I hear the toilet flush, followed by the sound of running water. For the first time in my life, I second-guess my next move. Should I go and find her, or give her space?
My clothes stare up at me from the bedroom floor. Getting dressed feels like the next logical step, so that’s what I do. And then I sit on the bed and wait for her to come back. Although, I don’t know if I’ll get my Maddie back or the one that’s been keeping me at arm’s length for weeks.
She seems surprised that I’m still here when she walks into the room, her eyes a little red before she drags them away from me. “I thought you’d have left.”
I run my hands over my jeans, my palms damp with my nerves. It feels different—and not in a good way. I thought I was getting through to her. “Why?”
Maddie moves things around on the credenza she’s standing in front of, lifting a shoulder in response to my question.
Frustration bubbles beneath the surface of my skin and I stand, feeling something I never feel: Awkward.
“I’m trying so hard to be understanding, Mad.
” She halts her movements but doesn’t turn around.
“You’ve shut me out for nearly three weeks, and then when I get you to let me in, you just want sex. Is that all this is to you?”
She turns to me, a blank expression on her face. Looking at her, I know that I’ve lost her. Not in a forever way—at least I hope not—but in a “she’s gone for now” kind of way.
“Isn’t that what this is to you? We never said we were more, Wyatt.” There’s a coldness to her tone that I desperately want to not be there.
I stand, unsure of what to do with myself. “No, Maddie. That’s not what this is to me. I’m not sure it ever was.” I pause, leaving space for her to say something, to tell me that she feels the same way. When she doesn’t, I continue, “I want to be here for you, but I won’t force myself on you.”
Silence hangs in the space between us. My words bounce around in my mind as I silently plead with her to say something, anything, but all she does is stare at me, her walls firmly in place.
I guess that’s my answer.
Maybe the space I gave her wasn’t enough. Maybe I came around too soon and she’s not ready to let me back in. I feel helpless in the face of her grief and like there’s only one right thing to do at this moment. The last thing I want to do is add to her plate.
I hesitate for a beat, praying she’ll ask me to stay but she doesn’t.
The weight on my chest only intensifies as I cross the room. I press a kiss into her hair, inhaling deeply, as if I can ingrain her scent into my brain. I wish today would have turned out differently.
Squeezing her shoulders, I move toward the door before taking one last look at her and saying, “You know where to find me, Mad.”
As I walk away, I search my mind for a different way for this to go, but I come up empty. In the time we’ve been apart, I’ve learned that she’s the one I want. So, I’ll wait for her until she’s ready to let me in.
There’s no right way for this to go for her.
When my dad died, my mom was there to pick up the pieces, and I was at the age where my siblings were still under the same roof, so we all leaned on each other.
There wasn’t a second where we were alone to wallow in our grief, even if at times that was what we needed.
When I reach my truck, I hold on to the handle, wondering if I should reach out to Deacon, just so she has someone there for her. She shouldn’t be alone, no matter how badly she thinks that’s what she deserves.
It’s not my place… not if she doesn’t want me there.
And yet, I know that if I don’t hear from her in a couple of days, that’s exactly what I’ll do.
I climb into my truck, closing the door and starting up the engine on autopilot before taking one last look up at her bedroom window.
Disappointment floods me when I don’t find her there, but it’s quickly replaced by hesitation before I throw the truck into reverse and press on the gas.
Part of me was hoping she’d come running out and tell me that she doesn’t want me to leave, that she needs me as much as I need her. But that’s just wishful thinking.
Without any thought, I head for Heartlands, driving the roads I know better than the back of my hand. Before Maddie, I would have gone to The Wildflower, found a buckle bunny and lost myself in alcohol and sex for the night.
Who am I kidding? Before Maddie, I never would have needed to lose myself over a woman.
Fuck.
I smack my hand on the steering wheel; pain jolts up my arm from the contact.
Christ, I think I might be falling for her.
A knock on my window pulls me out of my own head and I jump before meeting Grayson’s concerned gaze. I don’t even remember parking. I lower the window, cursing myself for being so distracted.
“You okay?” he asks, his brow furrowed.
I bite the inside of my cheek, trying to keep my emotions in check, before I swallow and shake my head.
No.
I don’t think I’m okay at all.
Grayson’s pulling off his Stetson and opening the driver’s side door of my truck before I’ve had time to process my reaction. “Move over,” he demands.
I slide across the seat, leaning against the passenger door as he climbs in.
We don’t say a word as he navigates my truck through our property.
As we’re crawling along a dirt track, he finally says, “Okay, spill—what happened?”
I stare out of the window, looking at the mountains in the distance, their presence reassuring. “I don’t know what she’s done to me, Gray. She’s shutting me out, but all I want to do is make her feel better. It’s like she’s afraid to show me that she’s hurting.”
He keeps his focus on the road. “Do you think she’s got reason to?”
I lift a shoulder. “Fuck yeah, she’s grieving. I’m man enough to admit that I have a certain reputation, but it’s not like I haven’t been trying to prove to her that I care.”
We drive over a dip in the road, the truck rattling around us. “Let me ask you this. Do you think that when she’s had time to process everything and figure out her new normal, she’d be open to you being there for her?”
I sigh heavily. “I don’t know. I’d like to think so, but I honestly don’t know. I mean, what do I do now? How do I still be there for her without actually being there? I’ve never navigated something like this before. I’m usually the one isolating myself.”
“You’ve got to give her time and space, man. Be ready and waiting for when she’s worked through everything. Especially if you think this could be something worth holding on to.”
It is. Deep down, I know that. We might have started out with a heavy dislike for each other, but the more I’ve gotten to know Maddie, the more she’s weaved her way under my skin and rooted herself into my bloodstream.
“It really fucking hurts, Gray. Physically it feels like I’ve been kicked in the chest by a horse,” I reply, defeated, resting my head against the cool glass of the passenger’s side window.
He reaches out and claps a hand on my shoulder. “Believe me, I understand that feeling. When Avery left, it took everything in me to show up every day, but I did, for you guys. So do that for her.”
I know he’s right, but at this moment, that feels almost impossible when she keeps closing herself off and blocking me at every turn.