Page 64 of Saving Wyatt

I narrowed my eyes and tried to determine the direction this was going. Either he was going to tell me it was the best thing ever—which I highly doubted—or that this had been a huge mistake—much more likely.

Either way, I waited. I waited, and a knot formed in my throat. As if he was holding my entire fate, my entire happiness, in his hands.

What a silly notion.

I was a grown man. No one else could dictate my happiness but me. And yet…

“What you made me do was wrong,” he finally said, and I put every other feeling aside so I could gawk at him and try to interpret his words.

“Huh?” I said when I couldn’t.

I’d expected a lot of things to come out of his mouth, but that was…unusual. At least the way he’d framed it.

“What you and I did…you shouldn’t have let it happen,” he said as if that made things clearer.

I blinked several times, and since he seemed in no hurry to explain what he meant, I readjusted in my seat and took a deep breath. “I’m lost. What do you mean? I didn’t let anything happen. We both…you seemed as into it as I was.”

Wyatt bit his lip and sighed. “Yeah, but you’re with someone. If I’d known you were in a relationship, I wouldn’t have—” he started and looked to the side, at Warren’s dirty clothes scattered on the floor outside the bathroom, and his eyes bulged. “Oh shit. He’s here, isn’t he? Ari, you shouldn’t be cheating on your boyfriend. This is wrong, and you made me do this wrong thing with⁠—”

“Those are Warren’s clothes,” I said, pointing at them, “and what the hell are you talking about? I don’t have a boyfriend.”

Wyatt looked me straight in the eyes and raised an eyebrow in a very pointed way, and I almost laughed, but I held it together. This was clearly very important to him. And it was to me too. I didn’t like the idea of cheating, let alone someone thinking I was a cheater.

“If you don’t have a boyfriend, then who is Evan and why did he message you how much he loved you this morning?”

And suddenly with those words, everything clicked into place, and I relaxed on the sofa.

“Is that why you ran away?” I asked.

“I didn’t run away. I wanted to check on Donovan, but…it didn’t help,” he said. “You’re not denying it though, which makes things even weirder. I…I don’t like cheating, Ari. It’s a horrible thing, and I can’t believe you let me sleep with you when you’re in a relationship.”

“Come here, you big doofus,” I told him and patted the space next to me again.

He cocked his head and his forehead wrinkled as he grimaced at me. “Did you just call me a doofus?”

“I did. Because you are. And so am I for not explaining myself sooner. Come. Sit here,” I insisted.

Wyatt seemed to consider my suggestion for a few moments before he moved next to me, begrudgingly. “So?”

“So,” I repeated.

“Explain yourself,” he said.

I reached out for his hands and squeezed them with mine before I took a big breath. “Evan…he’s not my boyfriend. He’s my husband.”

Wyatt started to pull away, but I held onto him.

“Was my husband.”

Ηe frowned. “Was? Is he trying to win you back?”

I sucked in a deep breath and gathered all the courage when I said, “My husband is dead, Wyatt.”

“I’m confused.” He blinked. “How can he be dead and still message you?”

My lips quirked into an awkward smile, and I looked down at my lap. “It’s this website. You can schedule messages and stuff. I set it up when I lost him, and I don’t know. It made everything a little easier. As if he was still there, watching over me. Made me feel less alone. I don’t—it’s probably fucked up to still have it set up after four years, but…”

“Oh,” Wyatt said. “Four years? I’m so sorry. H-how did you lose him?”