Page 78 of Say You Want Me
“He was distant and cold before the accident.” I remind her. “He could’ve realized he wasn’t reciprocating what I was feeling.”
It was what held me back from saying anything to him. He was being closed off and almost angry. He wouldn’t talk or do any of the things I’d come to love about being around Wyatt.
She looks out at the horizon. “Guys are weird. Country boys are a whole new level. Wyatt has never had a real relationship, neither have you.”
“I had Nate.”
She snorts. “You had a guy who was a friend. Someone you didn’t even glance at when you left for here. You didn’t love him. It’s not even close to this relationship.”
“The only reason I came here was because I was pregnant. That’s it, Pres. I have my business back in Philly that I have to think about. Without having the baby anymore . . .” My chest aches. “I don’t know if he even wants to try.”
Presley shakes her head. “You accuse me of being dense.”
“We’ll figure it out.” My eyes drift to him. “Maybe not today or this week, but when we can think clearly . . . maybe then we’ll see where we stand.”
“Hi, sugar.” Mrs. Kannan says as I let her in.
“I was wondering when you were coming,” I push the screen door open for her. “I guess you drew the short straw for today’s visit?” I give a mangled smile.
“No way! I wanted to see you, darlin’. I’ve missed you. Plus, I made a casserole and thought you were the perfect person for it.”
I chuckle. “Oh boy.”
We walk into the kitchen where there are about ten casseroles and a half dozen pies lined on the counter. That doesn’t count the ones filling the fridge.
“It seems I’m behind the town,” she muses. “Well, mine is better.”
“I’m sure it’s perfect.”
Mrs. Kannan makes herself comfortable at the table. I grab two plates, forks, and the pie that I was eying. I’m intending to eat all of my emotions today. Luckily, I’m in no shortage of baked goods or feelings.
She looks into the living room and back to me. “Is Wyatt here?”
It’s been three days since we buried Faith. Three days of Wyatt being barely able to look at me and refusing to say more than a word or two. Sure, he sits on the couch with me, but he’s careful not to be too close. Then, once the awkwardness is thick enough to cut, he’ll head out to the ranch and stay there until I’m asleep.
He’s shattered, and I don’t know how to heal him.
“He’s working,” I explain and shove some pie into my mouth.
Mrs. Kannan nods. “How are y’all holding up?”
I give her the very brief version of how everything is fine. I’m sure she’s not fooled, neither are Presley or Mrs. Hennington, but I don’t want to analyze it. He’s grieving. I’m grieving. There’s no right or wrong way to handle this situation. He seems to need more time alone, and I’m doing my best to respect that.
I’m the opposite, though.
I need people.
I haven’t been alone for more than a half hour. When Presley see’s Wyatt’s truck leave, she rushes over. If she can’t be here, someone else shows up out of nowhere. It’s foreign to me that I’m craving people. I’ve been independent my whole life, but right now being alone leaves me with nothing to do but think. My mind wanders down paths that it doesn’t need to seek. I get caught up in the “what ifs” and “could’ve beens”.
“I know that it gets better with time. It did with my brother.” I play with the fork as I think through how I feel right now. “I know it takes a while before you get back into your groove, but everything feels unsettling.”
Mrs. Kannan takes my hand in hers. “Of course it does, honey. You were preparin’ for a life that isn’t going to be anymore. I know it’s a lot to handle, but you’re doing it. You’re healing in a lot of ways right now. It’ll get better. You and Wyatt love each other, and you’ll work it out.”
“Do we?” I ask. “I mean do we really? I would’ve never been in Bell Buckle if it weren’t for the baby. He would’ve lived his life just fine.”
Her brown eyes widen. “Don’t think like that. I know you’re confused, but don’t you doubt what the two of you share. I saw it with my own eyes.” Her hand slaps against the table. “I’ve been around that boy since he was an infant. I’ve never in all my years seen him look at a girl the way he looks at you. It’s not a test of love when things are good. It’s how you handle things when times are bad.”
If that’s the case . . . we’re failing. Things can’t be much worse for us right now, and he’s withdrawing. “He won’t talk to me.”
