The doorbell rings, and I excuse myself, grateful Carl is at the door.
“Hay.” He wraps me in a hug.
“My god, am I glad to see you. You can cut the tension in this house with a knife.” I roll my eyes.
“Let’s do something about that, shall we?”
If there were anyone to lighten the mood, it'd be Carl.
Dinner is awkward, to say the least, and every single week, I realize if something doesn’t give, this is the way it’ll always be.
I’m standing at the sink doing dishes when Wyatt walks in and flashes me a sexy smile. I give him a smile and concentrate on the last plate and the soapy bubbles.
“Hey, can we talk later?”
“Yeah, sure. It’s past London’s bedtime anyway,” I say, toweling off my hands and letting the water drain out. I drag off my apron.
“It’s odd seeing you so domesticated.”
“I’ve grown up, Wyatt. No mama to do the dishes anymore,” I laugh.
“You hated doing the dishes.” I can’t disagree. I would dash out of the house and run over to his place the moment lunch or dinner was over.
We walk into the living room, and Carl is getting ready to leave. Logan seems to hang around, and I wonder how on earth Wyatt and I can talk with him about.
“London, it’s bedtime, monster.” I lean in to tickle my daughter.
“Just one more episode, please, Mom?” She gives me her best puppy dog eyes, and I stand firm, hands on my hips, threatening to count to three. It’s our thing for as long as I can remember.
“Say goodnight to Daddy and Wyatt,” I tell her, and I don’t miss the twitch in Wyatt’s jaw. I know it’s painful to hear, but for now, that is how we agreed to keep it.
London wraps her arms around Logan and places a kiss on his cheek. “I love you, Daddy,” she whispers.
She hugs Wyatt around the waist. “See you soon, Uncle Wyatt.”
He hugs her close, bending to place a kiss on her head. “Sweet dreams, sugar.”
* * *
The house isquiet when I leave London’s room, and for a minute I wonder if they’re really sitting in silence. I step into the living room, and the door leading out onto the porch is open, the chilly breeze lifting the curtains. I step out to find Wyatt sitting on one of the chairs, his eyes closed.
“Hey, has Logan left?”
“Yeah, he said something about having some stuff to do.”
I haven’t been alone with Wyatt. Well, not like this, and it’s unnerving. I take a seat on the chair beside him, and he offers me a mug. I take a sip of it and cough.
“What the hell is this?”
“Thought it was your favorite.”
We both laugh, remembering that night I drank whiskey and coffee. I take another sip, the warmth engulfing me. I smile over at him, admiring his silhouette in the dim porch light.
“I missed the quiet the most, you know, when I was away. Sure, the nights were still, but it wasn’t a comfortable quiet.”
“I can only imagine.” And it’s true. I will never know what he went through all those years. A tour in Afghanistan and another in Iraq. No contact with family for months on end. He’d been out there fighting while I slept safely in bed.
“The world seemed like it changed when I got back. It took me a hell of a long time to get used to being normal again.”
