Page 27 of Shy Girls Can't Date Celebrities
Wyatt sighs. “It’s not the doctor’s fault I’m not better.”
I suck in a breath, heartbroken by Wyatt’s defeated tone.
“You’re getting better,” Mrs. Hayes says, caressing the side of Wyatt’s face. “That’s all that matters.”
Wyatt gives a small smile in reply.
His mom looks back at me with a happy smile. “We heard the laughter on our way in. It’s so beautiful to see you kids back together.”
I hug my middle, smiling. “I’ll be here anytime I get a call.”
Mr. Hayes’s eyes light with hope. “Did any of the fog lift? Have you remembered any more about your life?”
Wyatt groans. “Dad.”
Mrs. Hayes moves over to her husband and clutches his arm. “Don’t be mad at your father, sweetheart. We’re just so excited for your recovery. Forgive us.”
Wyatt shrugs. “I d-don’t know what I’m su-su-supposed to do. I can’t f-force myself to remember. I’ve tried.”
“It’ll come back,” I whisper, eyes fixed on Wyatt. “There’s no rush.”
His smile grows in appreciation.
“We’re not trying to rush you,” his dad says. “You’ve just worked so hard for the life you have now. We’d hate for it to all disappear.”
“I don’t care about it,” Wyatt says with a shrug. “I don’t re-remember what all th-the fuss is about. I just care about Josie being here.”
“And that’s all you should focus on right now,” his mom says in a rush. “Dr. Fincher said that this meetup will be good for you. We don’twant to do anything to jeopardize that. We just wanted to say hi to Josie and check in on you.”
Wyatt grins, looking down at the floor as he kicks his feet out. “So, you’ll leave us alone?”
His dad laughs under his breath. “Sure, son. We’ll leave you two alone.”
Mrs. Hayes wraps me in another hug, and Mr. Hayes looks me up and down for a beat too long, and then they both leave.
I slink back to Wyatt’s side. “They were a little intense.”
“Tell me about it.” He sighs. “They’re get-getting impatient about mm-my memory coming back.”
“They just want the best for you.”
Wyatt shakes his head. “They’re getting antsy. Dr. Fincher said I, I shouldn’t be stressed. It, it doesn’t help with re-recovery. But, th-they make me feel stressed.”
I plant a hand on his knee. “It’s okay,” I coo. “They’re gone. And I promise to keep the stress to a minimum.”
Wyatt breathes out slowly and smiles. “I, I already feel the stutter going.”
I grin with giddiness. “I’m so glad.”
Wyatt groans, falling forward and cupping the sides of his face.
I gasp, clutch his shoulder. “Wyatt? What’s wrong?”
He grunts, lifting his head, but then folding forward again.
“Wyatt? Wyatt?”
Hurriedly, I reach across and hit the nurse buzzer.
