Page 16 of Breathing Wisteria
“I met him when I was fifteen.” Deep breath. Breathe in. Breathe out.
“He had just moved from Ireland with his mom after his parents divorced. He was—” I search for the words to adequately describe him. “Quiet. But he had this presence, even then. He was hot as fuck, the answer to every rebellious teenage dream with his broody, bad boy musician thing.” I smile at the memory. “Then he would open his mouth and every word was snide, sarcastic perfection delivered in the most exquisite Irish accent. I was screwed from the start. Never even had a chance.”
“You were childhood sweethearts? Oh my God, that’s so beautiful!” Skye swoons while Cassidy rolls her eyes at her enthusiasm.
“Anyway,” I continue, anxious to get this story over with. “We began dating. When we turned eighteen, we ran off to Las Vegas and eloped, much to the horror of our parents. God, I still remember the reaming my parents gave us when we got home. My father threatening to end Flynn if we didn’t annul the marriage. But we stood firm.” I pause to take a sip of my coffee, mostly to give my hands something to do, before pushing on. “Our town in Texas was tiny, there were no opportunities for a musician or an artist, so we moved a couple of towns over. We thought we were so grown.” I shake my head sadly. “We had no fucking clue.”
“What happened?” Skye’s gentle voice probes.
“I started going to art school and waitressing at night. Flynn taught guitar lessons during the day and played gigs at night. We had this tiny little one-bedroom apartment.” I smile at the memory. “We were eighteen and had no doubt that every one of our dreams would come true. That we would make them come true. Then I got pregnant.”
“Holy ducking plot twist!” Cassidy exclaims.
“Cass!” Skye hits her on the leg, narrowing her eyes and looking remarkably formidable.
“What?” she asks innocently. “I did not see a baby coming!”
I snort out an ironic laugh. “Well, that makes three of us.”
“If you tell me that douchenugget tried to make you get rid of it, I will hunt him down and slice his dick off with the bluntest knife I can find.”
“No, no, no. It was nothing like that. There was an accident.” I clutch my coffee mug to my chest, needing the feel of something tangible beneath my fingers as tears threaten to fall. “I experienced some abdominal trauma and it caused severe placental abruption. Carys was stillborn at twenty-three weeks.” I attempt to give them a reassuring smile, to let them know I’m okay, but their concerned expressions tell me I’m not successful.
“We struggled to cope. I was… angry. Very angry. I blamed him, he tried to help me, but I just couldn’t—” I choke on the words. “I pushed him until he had no choice but to leave. When he finally did, I just shut down. Eventually my parents encouraged me to come out here, stay with my aunt, and start fresh. It took some persuading, but it was the best thing I ever did.” This time my smile comes slightly easier. “I could breathe again. I started over. Started dreaming again. I built a new life and, for the most part, I’ve been happy.”
I reach over and place my mug on the small round table positioned between our chairs, and slump down in my seat.
“I’m so sorry, Wyatt. I can’t even imagine how awful that must have been.”
“My heart is fucking breaking for you right now,” Cassidy consoles.
I can’t believe the relief that is overwhelming me right now.
“And I have so many questions,” Cass continues.
Okay, that relief was short lived.
“Ask away.” I sigh.
Cassidy and Skye exchange a look before turning to me expectantly.
“You never saw him again?”
“How has the press not found out about you?”
“Why didn’t you get divorced?”
“What did he want yesterday?”
“Do you think you’ll get back together?”
“How big is his dick?”
Skye’s mouth drops, and I laugh loudly, the tension between the three of us easing.
“Cassidy!”
“Oh, please, like you weren’t thinking it.” She turns to me. “We’re waiting, Red.”
