12
Wyatt
2018
Now she was gone, what more was there for me? I couldn’t move back to Redmond; there were too many memories there, so I stayed here in Lakeside. It’s been a month since she died, and I’m not ready to go back to life. Life is daunting, and I prefer to stay in bed and ponder the meaninglessness of it all. At thirty years old, I feel like my life’s over.
Erin and I ran a fish and tackle shop. It was my father's dream, and I had to fulfill it. She loved spending her days watching the front counter and reading her romance novels. She used to lose herself in books, calling me over to tell me about something that moved her or made her angry. She used to love to fish too. I never had to teach her how; she was already brilliant at it. She’d grown up with a fisherman for a father.
I miss her so much. I know that marrying my friend was one of the secrets to a happy marriage. We fought all the time, over the news and the weather and which team would win the game. But most of the time, we were just comfortable with each other, knowing the flaws we hid from ourselves.
The first time she went in for a triple bypass was a year after we first met. We’d been at a funfair, and she’d eaten everything in sight. I couldn’t believe that little woman could pack in that much — corn dogs, cheese steak burgers on Krispy Kreme buns, and a deep-fried fucking Twinkie. And when she was done, she went on to eat my candy apple and a deep-fried Oreo. By the time she was finished, I was too shocked to eat anything but my turkey leg. What mattered was that she was happy, and I’d never seen her looking so beautiful or so alive since we’d met. That changed when I was rushing her into the ER at one a.m. She couldn’t breathe, her entire face had reddened, and she clutched the left side of her chest in agony. I shouted for the nurses, doctors, anyone to help us.
Before long they were wheeling her into the resuscitation bay, and I was sitting on the sidelines feeling helpless. I couldn’t lose her; I couldn’t.
“Are you her husband?”
“Yes,” I answered without a thought. It was a lie, but the doctor couldn’t tell.
The doctor sighed. “Can we go somewhere more private?”
I nodded and followed him into a small waiting room.
“Your wife is in critical condition. She’s suffered a major heart attack, and I’m afraid everything non-invasive we have tried has failed. We need to do an angiogram, a procedure that'll help us get an idea of the extent of the damage to her arteries. The thing is, it doesn’t seem to be a new condition. Were you aware she had a cardiac problem?”
I shook my head. I knew enough to know that it was severe, that Erin was in trouble.
It turned out there were multiple blockages, and if they hadn’t performed the surgery, she would have died. I gave the authority for the operation, despite knowing I was not really her husband. I just couldn’t let her die. Erin had too much to live for.
I didn’t know thenhow important she’d become to me. I eventually married her in a small ceremony with just our parents as witnesses, and I never regretted my choice. I would always miss Hayley, but she’d moved on with her life with Logan, long before I even met Erin. She was with the man she probably always loved.
Seeing Hayley at the funeral shocked me. It took me back to a place I’d long forgotten and brought back questions that were left unanswered. It reminded me how I returned to her, an incomplete man, to tell her all I wanted was her if she’d have me as I was, only to find her with Logan.
* * *
I shut the engine off and close my eyes. I rest my head against the headrest. This was the first place I needed to stop before I met Erin, before I confessed, before anything. Hayley had written to me and given me her address in Seattle. She said she had something important to talk to me about. I get out of the car, and that is when I see him, bent over a dark-haired little baby in the garden. The girl holds onto Logan’s fingers tightly, and he plants kisses on her cheek. The kid must be a few months old, a year at the most. I was not about to back down. Slamming the door behind me causes Logan to look up. He gets to his feet, holding the baby in his arms.
“Wyatt,” he greets me coldly. The look in his eyes pure contempt. “What are you doing here?”
“Is Hayley around?”
“She’s at the shops. You can come in and wait. She should be home soon.” I look at the kid again. She’s beautiful. She looks like Hayley; her hair is darker and her eyes brown.
He kisses her cheek, and she coos.
I follow him into the two-story house. The entry hall is full of pictures — pictures of the three of them. I think I’ve been in denial up until this point. Her letters seemed vaguer, and she stopped being expressive. She always seemed to be holding back. The tables had turned.
“Oh, you haven't met our daughter, have you?” he says, bouncing the baby. “This is London.”
Hayley sure didn’t waste any time. She told me she broke it off with him, that it was over, but the moment I left, she made a baby with him.
So much for waiting for me as long as I’d have her, and now here I am, and she’s taken. Those were just words. She was just like the rest of them. I should have known that when she moved on so quickly with me.
“Congratulations, to you both.”
My eyes roam to the pictures. Their birth story, their milestones story, their life, and I have no part in it.
“I should go.” I head for the door.
