I do.
But until he can figure out what he wants…I can’t risk it. Which means I’m also extremely thankful for what we’ve had. I wouldn’t have learned as much about myself had I not spent this time with Wilder. I wouldn’t have learned that it’s okay to say no to uncertainty. I wouldn’t be able to walk away even if it hurts.
Chapter Twenty-Seven
WILDER
What the hell is wrong with me?
The minute I said it, I knew it was the wrong answer. It was almost as if I could feel Sanders’s internal groan, telling me, “Wrong answer, you fool.”
Trust me, I get it.
“I’m going to go,” Scottie says as she stands. “I need to pack.”
“Scottie,” Ellison says, standing as well.
Scottie turns to her, and I can see tears forming in her eyes.
“Don’t worry about this. I understand the pressure you were under to fit in, and it takes a lot of character to recognize when you were wrong. Take the next few days off, and I’ll see you in the office on Monday.”
“Really?” Scottie asks.
“Really.”
“Thank you.” She smiles softly. “For what it’s worth, Sanders, you did help me close a chapter on a marriage that I struggled with.”
He nods. “But if you’re still scared, did I really help you close a chapter?”
She worries her lips and then sadly smiles. “Thank you for everything.” She starts to leave, so I get up as well, but Sanders stops me.
“Wilder, a word.”
I glance toward Scottie and then back at him. “Um, sure. Scottie, I’ll meet you in the cabin.”
She takes off, and I sit back down and wait for whatever is to come my way.
He turns to Ellison and says, “Could you give us a moment, darling?”
“Of course.”
She places a kiss on his cheek and then takes off, leaving me alone once again with the man who has the most interesting wardrobe I’ve ever seen.
When the door closes, he picks up a football and tosses it to me. I catch it, and he asks, “What’s the holdup?”
“What do you mean?” I toss it back to him.
“That answer. What’s the holdup on reassuring her that you’re not going to hurt her?”
“I don’t know,” I say. “It was…it was the wrong thing to say, I know that. But what if I do end up hurting her? I don’t want to be that guy.”
“I understand that,” he says, “But let me ask you this.” He tosses me the ball, and I catch it. “If she were to end things right now with you and say that she just wants to be friends, how would that make you feel?”
“Ill,” I say. “Actually fucking ill.” I grip the ball tightly. “I wasn’t expecting to come into this marriage camp thing and grow feelings for someone I’d never met, but every day I spent with her, I started to see how fucking cool she is. How strongshe is. How independent and determined. She’s funny, and she challenges me, and I like all that about her.”
“Yeah, I can see that.”
“And I want to prove to her that I can be the man that she needs, but I also want to be careful, because I know that she’s cautious. I just don’t know what the fine line is.”
