I wiped my cheek with the back of my hand, angry at myself for needing that much emotion just to be honest.
“And I’m going back because I’m tired of running. I’ve been running my whole life. From my parents. From Ray. From the truth. From men like Colin, who always made me feel like my choices weren’t mine. I’m done.”
Wyatt’s jaw flexed, something dark flickering there at Colin’s name, but he didn’t let it take over. He stayed present with me instead of letting his anger get the best of him.
“I’m done,” I repeated, quieter. “And I’m not going back to lean on you.”
Wyatt’s gaze didn’t waver. “Okay.”
I blinked at him, thrown off by how easily he accepted it.
My chest rose too fast. I forced a slower breath, tried again, sharper. “I’m serious, Wyatt. I’m moving into Ray’s house. I’m not moving into yours. I’m not becoming your responsibility.”
Wyatt’s eyes softened. “Tessa.” My name in his mouth was careful, like he knew it could be a wound or a balm, and he didn’t want to choose wrong.
I lifted my chin. “I just got out of a relationship. A bad one. And I don’t need anything complicated. I don’t need a man who wants to fix me. I don’t need a man who wants to own me. I don’t need to feel like if I take one wrong breath I’m going to owe someone my whole life.”
Wyatt’s expression tightened, not defensive, just pained. “I don’t want to own you.”
“I know,” I said quickly, and I did know. That was part of what scared me. Colin always wanted something from me, and he called it love. Wyatt wanted nothing from me, and somehow it still felt like I was standing at the edge of something big enough to drown in.
I exhaled, shaky. “If I stay over sometimes, or if you stay at my place sometimes, it doesn’t mean it’s forever.”
The words sat in the air, heavy and raw.
Wyatt’s gaze held mine, and I saw something in his eyes that made my stomach flip, something like longing and acceptance braided together.
“It doesn’t have to mean forever,” he said in agreement.
My throat tightened. I hadn’t expected him to agree so easily. I expected a fight. A push. A wounded look. The subtle punishment of silence.
But Wyatt just… accepted it. Like he understood what I was really saying underneath the boundaries. That I was terrified of losing myself again, and of needing anyone. That I wanted him, and wanting him felt like standing too close to the edge of a cliff.
“That’s what you want,” he added, carefully. “Right now.”
I nodded, grateful for the phrase right now because it gave me room to breathe.
Wyatt’s hands unclasped, then clasped again, like he was resisting the urge to reach for me.
“I’m not looking for forever as payment,” he said quietly. “I’m looking for you to be safe enough to sleep, and so you don’t carry all of it alone.”
My chest tightened. “Good, I can’t carry it alone.” The admission came out before I could stop it.
Wyatt didn’t pounce on it. He didn’t turn it into a victory.
He just nodded once, like it was a truth he respected. “You can be independent and still let people help you.”
My mouth twisted. “That sounds like something you’d say because you’re good at helping.”
Wyatt’s mouth twitched too, a faint echo of humour. “Maybe I am. Listen, Tessa, you don’t belong to me, and I don’t want you to feel indebted in any way. I meant what I said last night, I love you, and I want you by my side, but I’ll wait for you. However long it takes, I’ll wait,” he said, low and absolute.
My throat worked as I swallowed, my chest tight in a way that felt like pain and relief tangled together.
Wyatt’s gaze dipped to my mouth for half a second, then back to my eyes, like he was forcing himself to stay with the words and not the pull.
I stared at him, my body trembling faintly. “I’m scared,” I admitted.
Wyatt nodded once, like fear was not a flaw, just information.
