Page 117 of Making the Save
Cameras clicked and whirled. There were other people shouting questions at me, but I focused on the camera aimed in my direction and spoke to it, rather than Tricia.
“A little more than four weeks ago, I met Wyatt Locke at a golf tournament in Las Vegas,” I smiled. It had been such a simple thing. A normal thing. Two people with undeniable chemistry. “I liked him. We had fun and spent the day together, then all night together. I drank way more than I normally do. We got caught up in the moment and did the thing you’re not supposed to do in Vegas. We went to this silly little chapel and got married. Of course we regretted it, but for the sake of my reputation, we decided to stay married for a little while. Obviously, that backfired. I didn’t cheat on anyone. Wyatt is a good man, helping me out of a situation simply because he’s kind. Oh, he will hate that I called him kind, but he is.”
There were some chuckles from the crowd, but I pressed on.
“Anyway if you could leave him alone? This wasn’t his fault, it was mine. That’s it. Nothing more to see here folks. The show is officially over.”
There were questions and demands for more details, but I pushed through the crowd. Bea was standing next to the car she’d arranged, the back door open and waiting for me. I hopped inside and shut the door behind me.
Beatrice handed me my fully charged phone and I texted Wyatt.
Me: I’m coming back to my house. I’d like you to be gone before I get there.
Immediately my phone rang. Of course, it was Wyatt.
I declined the call and texted him again.
Me: There’s no point. We have nothing to talk about. Good luck with your brother. Both of them. And good luck with the team next season.
Then I turned off my phone so he couldn’t reach me.
Wyatt and I were done.
This was the natural conclusion to our time together.
24
Three Weeks Later
Wyatt
Iswung the axe over my head and brought it down on the log with a satisfying crack. I’d been doing this for weeks on an endless loop. Swing and crack, all so I could destroy something.
I heard the truck before I saw it. I knew one of them would come, but Liam had his own shit still happening in Calico Cove, so I probably should have expected Dad.
The truck pulled up into its usual spot, but I didn’t stop chopping the wood. I needed the physical labor. I told myself I was just getting back into hockey shape, but it was a lie. If I wasn’t doing something physical, then it left me with too much time to think.
And thinking was bad. Thinking led me to thinking about her, and I wasn’t going to do that anymore.
Not because it hurt my feelings, but because it made me so mad I couldn’t see straight.
The way she’d fallen on the sword for both of us. Taken responsibility for both our actions…it was unforgivable.
I wanted to tell her that.
Only, she wasn’t taking my calls or returning my texts. She’d cut me out of her life completely.
Dad got out of the truck and I shielded the sun from my eyes with my hands, watching him walk over to me. With a long-suffering sigh he plunked himself down on a log next to me. But was silent.
So I kept chopping.
Finally, after another thirty minutes, my arms started to shake with exhaustion, and I knew I’d reached my limit.
It was late August and hotter than hell even in Telluride, where the mountain air usually kept the temperature moderate. I reached for the shirt I’d ditched because it smelled like Sydney.
“Long drive just to watch me chop wood,” I said, finally breaking the silence. I wiped the sweat from my face.
Maybe he was someone I could take my anger out on. All my righteous outrage. Only it wouldn’t be a fair fight. I really needed Liam here. Liam would give me the knock down, drag out fight I needed and then he’d get me drunk.