“I’m going to find the nurse.Let them know you’re awake.They’ll probably want to talk to you.”
“Wy,” I said, my breath catching.“I didn’t—”
I reached for him, but he waved his hand.“No worries, Grasso.”He forced a crooked grin that didn’t quite reach his eyes.“I’m hard to get rid of.You should know that.”
A weak laugh came out of me, even though my chest ached.
Wyatt pointed at the beeping machine.“See that thing?That’s your new dance partner.She only has one beat but has way more rhythm than me.”
He backed toward the door, still smiling, still joking, like the room wasn’t suddenly too small for everything we hadn’t said.A flicker of something raw slipped through his smiling façade, but he turned away from me.
And just like that, he put his mask in place.
The door clicked shut behind me.The hallway smelled like antiseptic and stale coffee.The stark white walls blinded me.Fluorescent lights buzzed overhead.Somewhere down the hall a baby cried, and my knees buckled.
Rose.
Pregnant.
My kid.
I was going to be a father.
I pressed a hand to the wall, staring at the scuffed linoleum, searching for answers I wasn’t going to find there.The world narrowed, my mind drifting to peeling linoleum kitchen floors and a cigarette burning too long in an ashtray.
My father’s voice.
“I never should have married you.Biggest mistake of my life.”My father’s voice echoed in my ears, dragging me to a time I didn’t want to revisit.“What are you a fucking, idiot?”All these years later, I could still feel the smack upside my head.
Now I was going to be a father.
Father.
The word echoed in my skull.
I remembered my father’s heavy boots by the door.The way the house used to go silent when they hit the hardwood.The smoke that clung to everything.The way my mother braced before he even opened his mouth.
As a kid, I’d promised myself that I would never be him.
I would never raise my voice.
Never walk out.
Never make a kid feel like an idiot.
I dragged a hand through my hair, tugging hard on the ends.I stumbled down the hall in a fog, making my way toward the vending machine.
My mind kept churning up memories I had buried so long ago.A past I didn’t want to remember, let alone confront.
I remembered standing in the doorway, watching my father throw things into a duffel bag.My mom screaming.The door slamming.The terrifying silence afterward.
Another time I’d sworn to myself I’d never be that man.I would never be the reason someone felt abandoned, and without meaning to, I’d done exactly that.
Not even by leaving… by building walls so damn thick, Rose believed I would.
A nurse brushed past me, and I blinked into the present.How could I have a future with Rose—with our child—if the past still haunted me?
I was going to be a father.
