Wyatt’s eyes widen and he steps back. The passion in his eyes fades, quickly replaced with frustration and pain. “Damn it, Katie!” Spinning around, he moves across the room. A low growl rumbles from his chest as he slides his fingers through his thick blond hair, tugging at the strands.
This is not at all how I saw this going. Honestly, I’m not sure what I expected, but I thought that maybe I could get him to see that this is for the best. I know now that never would’ve happened because tonight I broke his heart, and I know all too well how that feels. How could I ever expect him to understand—let alone someday forgive me—when I’m walking away after promising him forever? I’m still not sure I could ever forgive the man who broke my heart, so why should I expect anything different from Wyatt?
Unconsciously, my thumb rolls my engagement ring around my finger. I look down, watching as the diamond catches the light, scattering specks of color around the room. For the first time since we got engaged over a year ago, the white gold princess-cut ring feels foreign on my finger. The weight of the diamond, like the weight of my guilt, sits heavily, and I slip it off while at the same time letting go of the lie that I’ve been living this past year. It’s cathartic in a way that I can’t even explain. In a sense, I feel lighter. However momentary it may be, the monsters inside of me have calmed, and for once I feel like I can actually breathe.
A low grunt catches my attention. Looking up, I find that Wyatt has put on his jeans, and I watch him tug his t-shirt over his head. He drops to the bed, his elbows on his knees and palms covering his face, rubbing it roughly several times. Please don’t break, I think to myself. You deserve so much more than the broken girl that I’ve become.
Slowly, I move toward him. His face tilts up, his glassy eyes finding mine, and it’s impossible to miss the tearstains on his cheeks. Instantly, my nose burns—the kind of burn that comes right before I turn into a blubbery mess of tears and snot. We watch each other for several seconds, and when I’m confident that I have some control over my emotions, I push the ring into the palm of his hand.
Wyatt looks down at where I have my hand wrapped around his, and then his eyes dart back up to mine. “You are an amazing person, Wyatt. You are kind and generous”—I swallow hard past the lump in my throat—“and smart and funny, and I am lucky to have had you in my life. One of these days you are going to make someone very, very happy. And I don’t deserve your friendship, but I’m selfish enough to ask for it, because the thought of not having you in my life is terrifying.” Wyatt’s jaw clenches, a fresh batch of tears collecting in his eyes, and I suck in a shuddery breath. “You may not believe it right now, but I never meant to hurt you. You were my very first friend and your happiness means the world to me, which is why I need to do this.” Wyatt’s lips pinch into a thin line and I know that he has something to say, but I need to get this out or I may never get the chance again. “My only regret is that I didn’t do it sooner”—he flinches and I rush to explain—“because I knew months ago that my feelings had changed. But I was greedy. I was scared to lose you … scared to lose your strength and your friendship. I see now how unfair that was to you, and for that I’m so sorry.”
Wyatt’s chin trembles, the movement so slight that I almost miss it. Then in the blink of an eye, his face transforms, almost as though he’s slipped on a mask. He wrenches his hand out from under mine and stands to his full height, shoulders back and chin up. “I don’t want the damn ring.” He shoves it at my chest, and I scramble to catch it before it falls to the floor. “And I don’t want your friendship, Katie. I don’t want your apologies, I don’t want your fucking excuses and I sure as hell don’t want you.” Brushing past me, he rushes toward the door. Gripping the knob, he flings the door open and then comes to a dead stop.
“You know what?” Twirling around, he stalks toward me. His cerulean eyes are nearly all black and they’re burning with hatred—and quite possibly disgust. I stand frozen as he rips the ring from my hand. “I do want it. I want to destroy it,” he seethes, “the same way that you’ve destroyed me. And then I’m going to throw it away, along with every fucking memory of you.”
Speaking isn’t an option. I have no defense, no argument and I certainly have no right to beg for absolution. My lungs ache as I fight to suck in air. I broke him. I actually broke him.
“Don’t give yourself that much credit.” Holy shit! I’ve got to stop doing that. “It’s going to take a lot more than you to break me.”
“Wyatt—”
“No!” he growls, his eyes bouncing around my face. I feel like he’s looking for the girl he fell in love with, but he’s not going to find her. She died months ago.
With a heavy sigh, Wyatt turns and walks out of my room without a backward glance. Seconds later, I hear the front door slam shut.
He’s gone. My hand reaches for my chest, ready to rub the ache I felt the last time I lost a man that I loved. But the pain isn’t there like it was before, so I drop my hand to my side.
I stand motionless in my room, waiting for regret to smash into me. I clench and unclench my hands, expecting them to feel numb and tingly, but they don’t. There are no tears bursting to break free, and my heart isn’t threatening to bounce from my chest. The only thing I feel is a sense of calm that I didn’t know I possessed.
Okay, I obviously haven’t given it enough time. It’s coming, I know it’s coming…
Feeling surprisingly at peace, I walk into the kitchen, passing right by Wyatt’s running shoes sitting by the back door. I’ll have to worry about those later because this is just the calm before the storm. Any minute now I’m going to go into full panic mode.
Grabbing a bottle of water from the refrigerator, I twist off the cap and chug half of it. My gaze drifts toward the clock and my jaw nearly drops. It’s only four o’clock in the morning … no wonder I’m fucking exhausted. Well, that was about the shittiest possible way to start the day. On the plus side, my day can’t get much worse. I hope.
Hooking my foot around the leg of a chair, I tug it out from under the table and plop onto it. With an exaggerated sigh, I close my eyes and tip my head back, letting a sense of nothingness wash over me. My body is relaxed, not an ounce of tension to be found. My pulse, calm and steady, creates a gentle thud in my chest, and my breaths are slow and easy. I want to feel bad, or guilty, or something, but I can’t because I know I did the right thing. I just wish that it didn’t take breaking Wyatt’s heart to feel this sense of relief.
With languid movements, I sit up, chug the rest of my water and look aimlessly around the kitchen. Normally, I wouldn’t head over to mom’s to take care of the horses for another hour or so, but I’m wide awake and a sunrise run with Mac is just what I need.
Pushing myself up, I toss the empty water bottle in the trash and then I turn to grab the wine glasses left out from last night. My eyes catch on the stack of mail sitting at the edge of the table and I sift through the envelopes, sliding each one to the side just enough so I can see the next. Phone bill, utility bill, car payment …
Everything inside of me stills. My heart literally stops beating before kicking into overdrive, and I slowly drag the tattered envelope out from the middle of the stack.
Tilting my head to the side, I examine the messy penmanship of Sergeant Devin Ulysses Clay. My finger runs a deliberate path along the worn edges and a slow smile builds, tugging at the corners of my mouth. The urge to rip it open is strong and I bite down on my bottom lip, trying to determine whether or not I should read it. A tiny shiver runs through me, and I decide that, for once in my life, I’m going to do something without overthinking it.
So what if I pissed him off? So what if the hope blossoming in my chest completely contradicts the bitterness I still feel toward him? Scooping up the envelope, I toss it in my messenger bag, along with my notepad and pen. I run to my room, quickly changing into a pair of jeans and a sweatshirt, and then I slip on my coat, grab my keys and bag, and dart out the door.