Page 104 of Saving Wyatt

I blinked. I smiled. How could I not when I was staring at the beautiful blue of his ocean?

“You know you didn’t have to do that, right?” I said.

He cocked his head. “Do what?”

I bit my lip for a moment, then said, “The kiss. I…I didn’t need you to come out to everyone.”

He pulled his hand back and sat a little straighter. “You…you didn’t want me to? Did I…did I screw up? I’m sorry, I didn’t mean⁠—”

“No, no, sweetheart. Don’t apologize. I’m not mad.” I put my hand on his face and pierced him with my gaze so he knew I wasn’t lying. “I just want to make sure you were ready to do that and you didn’t force yourself to do it because of me.”

He leaned into my touch and closed his eyes, savoring the connection between us, and then he opened his eyes.

“Of course I did it for you. Because I love you,” he said.

“I love you too,” I answered and sat up long enough to kiss his lips before I sat back down. “But I hope you didn’t do it because you thought that’s what I wanted you to do. That’s what I’m saying.”

Wyatt brought his hand up to his face and lined it up perfectly over mine, the glimmer in his eyes as unwavering as the discreet curve of his lips.

“I did it because Warren helped me realize you are more important than this fear over what people will say. I…I lived my whole life afraid of what others thought of me, and look where that got me. At the first opportunity they turned on me, they believed a lie, they were ready to cast me out. But you…us, this is real, and genuine, and I don’t want to lose you over what a bunch of strangers might say. I don’t want to lose you because of this stupid fear that’s held me back all my life.”

My heart skipped a beat, and a warm shiver ran down my spine. His words were like a song, a melody I couldn’t get enough of.

“You’re not going to lose me, Wyatt. You were never going to lose me. I swear.”

He didn’t answer. He simply cocked his head to the side, leaning into my touch, and stayed quiet for a long time. But I didn’t mind. Not when he looked so comfortable, so at peace.

“I still worry,” he said, after a lifetime. “I worry that I can’t give you what you want.”

I grimaced. “Like what? What do you have to worry about?”

He shrugged. “Kids. I’m too old for them. I can’t give you a family. I don’t even know if you want one, but I know it’s important for most people.”

“I’m fine without kids,” I said.

“What if you change your mind?”

“If I wanted kids, I’d have had some already. I was always on the fence, but I’m quite happy as I am. I’m happy having you all to myself.”

He smiled. “There’s also time.”

“What about time?”

“I can’t give you more time. I’m so much older than you. I’m definitely going to die first. I don’t want you to get hurt again⁠—”

There was a sting in my eyes, and I blinked it away before it turned to tears. My stomach twisted, and when I opened my mouth to respond, it was dry.

He was right. I might not like it, but he was. And yet I couldn’t imagine letting him go simply because of the kind of hurt I might feel in the future. Not when I had just started to heal.

“You don’t know that,” I said. “No one can guarantee how much time we get on this earth.”

“But I’ve got considerably less time than you.”

I stroked his cheek with my thumb and took a deep breath, a little more confident, a little more certain when I spoke again.

“And yet I couldn’t imagine wasting any of it not being with you.”

He closed his eyes again and licked his lips. “Promise me you won’t give up on love again. If I die and leave you alone.”