A Lover's Lament(30)

“Yes,” she says, chuckling. “Even Wy-Wy.” A half sob, half cry falls from my mouth and I swipe away my tears.

“I love you, Mags. You’re the best.”

Maggie’s grip on me tightens and she presses her lips to my head. “If you knew what I called you in Spanish earlier, you might not think so.”





“Slow Dancing In A Burning Room” – John Mayer

“KATIE?”

My eyes snap open and I find Wyatt propped up on his elbows, watching me. The sheet is bunched around his hips and the muscles of his abdomen twitch under the weight of my stare. My eyes rake over his half-naked body and I will myself to feel something. At some point during the night I finally gave up trying to fall asleep and I moved to a chair across the room.

“Sorry if I woke you up,” he says, rubbing a hand across his tired eyes. “Is everything okay?”

Oh my gosh, I can’t do this. I can’t hurt him. My arms and legs feel weak, and my heart is beating so hard that it could possibly fly right out of my chest. Shit. I suck in a sharp breath. “No?” I blurt.

Wyatt’s brows furrow and I know he’s waiting for more, but that one word is all I can seem to get out. Guilt crawls up my throat, threatening to make itself known—the same guilt that could potentially keep me from doing what needs to be done.

Wyatt flings the covers off and moves to get out of bed. Urgently, I hold up a trembling hand. “Please,” I beg, shaking my head. Wyatt’s eyes widen and his lips part, and the look of panic on his face nearly brings me to my knees. “Please.”

I love Wyatt. I’ll always love Wyatt. But he deserves so much better. He deserves a woman that will love him, heart and soul. A woman that will open herself up and give him everything that life has to offer. I’m not that woman. Not for Wyatt—probably not for anyone.

And it’s the thought that Wyatt deserves better that pushes the words from my mouth. “I can’t...” My voice cracks, and I look up at the ceiling and squeeze my eyes shut, a feeble attempt to gain some sort of control. “I can’t do this anymore.”

“What?” With two long strides, he’s kneeling in front of me. “You can’t do what?”

I blow out a slow breath, reminding myself that I’m doing the right thing, even if it’s one of the hardest things I’ve ever done … well, second hardest thing. The first was burying my father. Okay … third hardest thing. The second was getting over my first love.

“Katie?” His pleading voice is thick and raw. “Look at me.” He cups my face in his warm hands, forcing me to look at him. “You can’t do what?” His blue eyes are swirling with insecurity and concern.

Just say it. Set him free, Katie. “Us.”

Wyatt sighs, his shoulders drop and he nods at me with a look of understanding. Uh, what? Did he not hear what I just said? “You’ve been under a lot of stress, and I know I haven’t been making it eas—”

“No,” I interrupt.

“Hear me out, okay?” He slides his hand in mine and gives it a gentle squeeze. “I know I haven’t been what you’ve needed me to be since the funeral, and I hate myself for it.” I shake my head vigorously, but he keeps talking. “I didn’t know how to handle it. I didn’t know how to handle you. And then when you shut down, when you closed yourself off, I-I froze. It scared the hell out of me, and instead of pushing you to talk about things and comforting you, I abandoned you.” A pained look overtakes his face.

“You didn’t abandon me,” I quickly argue. Okay, yes, he did give me space, essentially acting as though nothing happened and everything was fine when it most certainly wasn’t fine, but there is no way in hell I’ll let him take the blame for this. “This is com—” Wyatt pushes a finger against my lips, effectively shutting me up.

“I did. I gave you space because I thought it’s what you needed, and every single time you told me you were fine, I just accepted it and moved on, knowing that you weren’t. I should’ve insisted that you open up and talk to me, and I wish I could go back and do it over again, but I can’t. What I will do is promise you that I’ll never act like that again. I’ll promise to be there for you, no matter what.” Anguish rolls off of him, slamming into me, and my chest physically aches. Fuck. “I let you down and I’m sorry. I’m so sorry.”

His words cut through me like a knife, and I’m not sure how much more of this I can take. “Stop,” I beg. “Please stop. We both could’ve handled the whole situation differently, but this has nothing to do with that. This— ” Shit. Pressure builds behind my eyes, and I blink several times to try and keep the tears at bay. This is so f*cking hard.

My hand fists in my lap and I fight the urge to look away, but that would be the cowardly thing to do and he deserves so much more than that. I take a deep breath and blow it out. “My feelings have changed, Wyatt.”

His brows dip low and he drops my hand. “What do you mean?”

“I can’t marry you.”

A vein pops out in Wyatt’s neck, and in one swift move he stands up and takes a step back. “Are you serious? I-I don’t understand.”

Pushing from the chair, I take a step toward him. I’ve never seen him look so helpless and lost, and I want nothing more than to wrap him in my arms and tell him that everything will be okay. But I can’t. “I don’t want to hurt you, Wyatt.”