Page 108 of Beautiful Trauma

She took a deep breath before responding. “I feel like I’m giving away secrets here. I really assumed you knew.”

“It’s fine. I guess I’ve just been lost in my own head for a long time.”

“He calls him every night. Has for as long as I’ve been around. When he can’t talk in real time, he sends a goodnight video that Wyatt can watch before going to sleep,” she explained.

My eyes practically popped out of my head. “Every night?”

“There have been very few exceptions. All of which he warned Wyatt about beforehand.”

“What do they talk about?” I wondered out loud.

“Sergio asks about Wyatt’s day and then reads him a story.” I know I would’ve noticed a children’s book on his e-reader or in his bunk. I let this information swirl around my head. “Cee?”

“Do you know what book?” I asked.

The memory of Eli reading the same three stories to Wyatt creeping in. Each night Wyatt would choose from the books and Eli would read it to him as he snuggled into bed. My heart constricted in my chest, and tears welled in my eyes.

I miss that asshole so much right now.

I heard Candi rattle off the same three titles and my body shook.

“Candi, I’ll call you back, okay?” I heard my voice shake as I disconnected the call before she could respond. I curled into myself, hugging one of the pillows from the bed close.

The pain of losing Eli was less acute most of the time. But in moments like this, moments when his absence was blatantly thrust in my face, I couldn’t ignore the pain. I sobbed into the pillow.

A year ago, around this time, was when Eli was free falling toward death and all I could do was sit by, helpless. Did you do this, Eli? Did you make sure someone was tucking Wyatt in just as you would if you could?

A vague memory popped up. “I promised Eli I would make sure you were okay,” Sergio explained. Oh, Elijah.

Everything I thought about Sergio and I was just a promise to Eli, wasn’t it? I needed to talk to Serge. Explain that he didn’t have to take care of me anymore. If he wanted to keep his relationship with Wyatt, I wouldn’t stop him. Wyatt loved him. But how long could Sergio rearrange his days to read a story to someone else’s kid every night before bed? I’m sure Mason would take over. Maybe we could do it slowly, so we didn’t upset Wyatt. I didn’t want him losing anyone else.

Sixty-Five

Sergio

Cee texted us while we were still at breakfast, letting me know I could bring Wyatt back whenever I was ready. I looked across the table at Wyatt. Nutella covered his fingers and his mouth, but the kid had a smile that could light the night sky.

I snapped a picture and sent it to Cee, letting her know it would be a while.

* * *

The minute Cee opened the door to her room for us, I could tell she had been crying. “Welcome back, Wy! Did you enjoy your waffles?” She attempted to inject a happy tone into her voice, but the puffy, red eyes were a dead giveaway, even to Wyatt.

“Are you sad, Mama?” He reached for her hand and squeezed it.

She smiled down at him. “Yeah. Just for a minute. I’ll be okay.”

He tugged her hand, and she kneeled so he could wrap his tiny arms around her neck. “He still loves us in heaven, Mama. But it’s okay to be sad sometimes.” A tear slid down Cee’s cheek as she buried her face in Wyatt’s little neck.

“That’s right, baby,” she whispered.

I turned my head away from the scene, my own eyes feeling teary. Damn little kid making me cry.

“You have nutella on your neck,” Cee rubbed at a spot on Wyatt’s neck. “Were the waffles good?”

“Yeah!” Wyatt wiggled out of her grip. “Gee just had coffee, though.”

“Did you say thank you to Gee for taking you to breakfast?”