I've become the man I never wanted to be. It's clear as day to me now. And now that I see it, I can't escape it. So I'll tell Willow the truth. She deserves honesty. But it'll be the nail that shuts the coffin on us. Once she knows my truth, there won't be an us anymore.
My insides rearrange themselves. I grit my teeth and step on the porch, trying to breathe. Everything I've ever wanted was so close, yet there's no one to blame for screwing it up but me.
"Be a man," I mutter, and turn the knob, opening the front door. I softly say, "Hey."
"Don't," she warns, her voice shaking with anger.
I ignore the coward in my head, ordering me to run. Instead, I step farther inside and shut the door. I peel off my hat and grip the leather tight.
"I can't do this again," she blurts, breath ragged. "I can't, Wyatt. I won't watch you destroy yourself again."
"I know," I rasp. My voice cracks under the weight of everything I've done.
She throws her hands up. "No, you don't know! You have no idea what you did to me! You think you can show up with those sad cowboy eyes and I'll melt into a puddle at your feet? That I'll forget all the nights I worried myself sick? Or cried over you? And that I'll just want to return to that?"
"I don't want you to forget," I force out. My chest tightens until I can barely breathe.
She glares harder at me. "Don't patronize me."
"I'm not."
"You are. Don't you dare!" she hurls.
I stay quiet, fighting emotions I was taught a man doesn't show. I struggle to put the words together so I can be honest with her.
"Let me guess. You were out drinking and having a good old time. Did you meet someone fancy?" she spouts.
I jerk my head backward. "What? No. I've never done that to you, nor would I want to."
She scoffs. "Sure you haven't."
"Willow, there's never been another woman and never will be," I insist.
Hurt flares hotter on her expression. "I don't believe you."
I step closer, trying to stay calm. "I've never looked at another woman when I've been with you. Not once."
She blinks and turns her head.
"Look at me," I order.
She refuses.
Not hiding my nervousness, I state, "There is something I need to talk to you about. But it sure as hell doesn't involve another woman. And I need you to look at me before I chicken out and hide it from you."
She slowly turns to face me.
I fight to not look away, adding, "I don't want to lie to you."
Her anger burns, but curiosity flickers alongside it.
My heart pounds so hard that I think it'll break my rib cage.
"Just spit it out, Wyatt."
I collect my thoughts, confessing, "I have a problem."
She sarcastically laughs and crosses her arms. "Tell me something I don't know, Wyatt."
