He swallowed and asked, “What about you? I mean, besides your recent asshole ex.”
“I had a boyfriend in high school, but for both of us, it was more of fitting in.” I shrugged. “In our school, people tended to pair up. We didn’t explicitly break up at graduation. It was more of an understanding.” Without asking, I handed him the second half of the slice of toast he’d put on my plate. Wordlessly, he took it, slathered orange marmalade over it, and downed it in two bites while he waited for me to go on. “I met Charlie at freshman orientation. By Homecoming freshman year, we were dating.”
I stood and walked my plate to the dishwasher, setting my coffee cup under the Keurig for a fresh brew.
“My friends never trusted him.” I returned to my barstool. “Turns out, they had his number.”
“But you stayed in that relationship for nearly three years.”
I nodded.
“You’re loyal.” He motioned to my half-eaten yogurt and berries. “You gonna finish that?”
I slid the bowl over to him while I mulled his words. That was it. I was loyal. I’d sensed Charlie and me growing apart as long ago as last spring, even toyed with breaking it off with him then. But he was running for Student Senate, and I didn’t want to cause him more stress. I’d chalked my feelings up to nerves over finals and my summer internship and hadn’t listened to my inner voice. Because I was loyal—to him, to my parents. To Philippa.
Look where that got me.
“If you don’t want to answer, don’t. But I’m curious about why you have so much animosity toward him. I mean, Kelly-Jo hurt my feelings then I got over it. That night in the Molly, I had the sense you would have castrated the guy on the spot if you’d had the means.” He shuddered. “I think you gave me the PG version the last time I asked.”
Sipping my coffee, I mulled over telling Wyatt the whole sordid story. If we were in a relationship, I decided, then I should be able to trust him with the ugly parts of my life as well as the fun stuff. Then again, we were talking about what went down with Charlie and Pippa. Even though she’d betrayed me, Pippa was still my sister, and I hadn’t introduced Wyatt to her yet. Would it be fair to color his impression of her before they met?
A vision of that horrible afternoon seared my brain, and the next thing I knew, words were tumbling out of me. “I told you I caught Charlie cheating. What I didn’t tell you is that I caught him because he was in the middle of things in the bedroom next to mine in my apartment.”
It was Wyatt’s turn for the big eyes. “What the hell? That’s all kinds of fucked-up. What was he doing with a girl in your apartment?”
“The girl was Phillipa. My sister.”
Like a bomb, silence dropped in my kitchen.
Wyatt swallowed hard, opened his mouth, clamped it shut, and swallowed again. Then he reached for me, tugging me off my stool and onto his lap. Wrapping his strong, massive arms around me, he held me close to his chest and remained silent.
It was that unconditional support that did it. I have no idea how long we sat like that, but when he loosened his hold on me at last, I’d soaked the front of his shirt with my tears.
After I walked out on that nightmare in my apartment that day, I’d raged and ranted to Saylor and Chess. Later, in the privacy of my new place, I’d cried, but now I recognized those tears were for lost time and my pride. Today, I was crying for myself, for the loyalty I’d always shown my family—and Charlie—which they’d trampled into the dust as though it meant absolutely nothing. Wyatt got it. For the first time, I had someone unconditionally in my corner. I didn’t have to watch out for him in order to gain his support. I didn’t have to take care of someone else’s responsibilities for a chance at being seen. I didn’t have to compromise who I was to make sure I held onto someone who, in the end, I’d never actually loved.
“Sorry about your shirt.” I sniffed.
“It’s fine. The more important question is how are you?”
After two-and-a-half years, I’d never truly fallen in love with Charlie. After two-and-a-half months, I was in real danger of giving Wyatt my whole heart.
He didn’t judge. He didn’t tell me how I should feel. He didn’t run.
The concern in his eyes nearly sent me over the edge again. Instead, I sucked in a deep shuddery breath, nodded my head, and said, “Better now.”
With gentle fingers, he pushed a strand of my hair behind my ear. His eyes followed his movements. “That wasn’t for your ex, was it?” Conviction colored his tone.
“No.” I sniffed back the remnants of my tears and forced out the rest of the story. “I needed to finish up some paperwork with my advisor that day. On my way out, I mentioned I might stop by the gym for a yoga class afterward, which I guess gave her the green light to text Charlie for a nooner. But my meeting lasted longer than I expected, so I skipped the class and came home to the two of them naked in her bed.”
“I honestly don’t know what I’d do if one of my brothers snuck in and slept with my girl.” Green eyes held mine. “No, I do know. I’d be doing time somewhere.” Cupping my jaw, he lightly thumbed away a stray tear. “No wonder you call it The Fuckery. You have every right to cry over losing your sister that way.”
“You need to stop talking.”
His brow shot up.
“If you keep going, I’ll probably fall so hard for you I’ll never get up.”
A smile to light up the gloomy, snowy January day broke over his face. “I can get on board with that, babe.” He injected enough of a tease into his tone to let me have an out, but shadows lurked deep in his arresting eyes.
