Page 101 of Indescribable
“You’re still throwing a fit about it? Guess I was right all along, wasn’t I?”
I growl in frustration. “You aren’t listening to me, Wyatt. You controlled my friendships and didn’t want me around people all the while you wereactuallyscrewing other women! Do you know how sick and tired I am of even thinking about that, let alone talking about it? But every time you and I talk, you throw Brock in my face because you can’t man up and realize that you’re the reason our marriage ended. And now I find out that you’ve been doing drugs, too?”
“Don’t you see? I did all that because you forced my hand. I couldn’t think about anything but how I was failing you and I knew the second you got rid of me you’d go crawling to him.” He juts a thumb toward Brock.
“Is this your way of apologizing? Because if it is, it’s a shitty way of saying you’re sorry.”
I stare at him, holding his gaze, and wonder how I ever loved him enough to marry him but realize it wasn’t me who changed. It was him. He shares no resemblance to the man I married.
“What happened to you?” I whisper. “The man sitting here with me now isn’t the same one I fell in love with. Was it the drugs? Was it because you’re that unhappy living here in Red Oak?”
His head jerks up and his eyebrows furrow. “What does that mean?”
I scoff. “Oh, come on, Wyatt. You know you hate it here. You always felt like you were too good for this small town. You’re miserable here but never had the balls to move away or even admit it.”
“I’m not miserable here.”
A humorless laugh escapes my throat. “Liar. Maybe if you can admit the truth to me, you can finally admit it to yourself, too.”
He’s quiet for a few beats, looking over at Brock who’s still sitting in his pickup, watching us closely with his window rolled down. “I came here to tell you I’m sorry and I’ve done that.”
I take a healthy sip of my coffee that’s now too cold for my liking. “Have you really?”
With a heavy sigh, he admits, “No. I guess I haven’t.”
“What are you here to apologize for, Wyatt? I have a friend coming soon so we need to move this along.”
“Everything,” he grumbles. “I’m sorry for showing up here last week. I’m sorry you found drugs that I kept here. I’m sorry I kept them here, too. I wasn’t thinking. At all.”
“You’re right. You weren’t. That could have been really bad for me, Wyatt.”
“I know. I know. Trust me. My dad… he made sure to tell me. So did Charlie.” He sits back in his chair and looks toward the house. “For a while, I loved our life. I don’t know when it happened, but it became not enough for me. I’m sorry if that hurts you.”
“It doesn’t.”
He flinches at my immediate and curt response. “Because you fell out of love with me.”
“Yes. And you fell out of love with me, too, Wyatt. If you really loved me, you wouldn’t have done any of what you did.”
He nods sadly. “I guess you’re right. I’m going away. Rehab,” he adds gruffly. “My lawyer got it worked out somehow. Rehab, less community service, and a fine. I suppose I got off easy.”
“I agree with that.”
He presses his hands to his knees and looks over in time to see his dad pulling up. “You call him?”
“I did,” I answer unapologetically.
“I deserve that. Probably didn’t feel too safe.”
When I don’t answer, he stands up and when our eyes meet, he has tears in his. “I’m sorry, Naomi. For all of it. The drugs. The cheating. The treating you like I did. For not trusting you. For letting my unhappiness get in the way of us.”
“I appreciate that.”
Dale steps out of his truck and so does Brock.
“Maybe I have no right to ask this, but are you with him now?”
“Brock? Yes. I am.”