He didn’t even mount the stairs. He just stood there at the bottom, his face turned to the left, looking out at the horizon and not making eye contact when he said, “You know, Caroline, I’ve been thinking and I’m pretty sure this thing between us got out of hand.”
My heart sunk, dropped right out of my chest down into the pit of my belly, and all I could think was, Shit, Bev was right. The heart isn’t just an organ that pumps blood. That other metaphoric stuff is true and mine is gonna be broken, decimated really.
He was still talking. “I’m not really the kind of guy that settles down with one woman, and the more I got to thinking this afternoon, the more I realized I didn’t want to drag you along, when ultimately this thing between you and me was just an agreement.”
I narrowed my eyes, watching his face, feeling mighty aware that he couldn’t look at me, not at all. He was lying. I could feel it in my knees. Every word out of his mouth was a bold-faced lie. He was making up reasons to break us apart and I had no idea why. But no matter what he was saying or not saying, he was also shattering my heart before it even really got a chance to take flight. And man, I was so mad at him for that.
Interrupting him, I spat, “Stop.”
He did and for the first time he turned to look at me, and all I could see in his eyes was loss. Wyatt Morgan was crushing his own heart too.
I gave him one chance to change his mind. I kept myself open, let him see how his words were tearing me apart, allowed the terror of facing every day without him show in my tone as I asked, “Are you sure this is what you want to do?”
He gave me a curt nod.
It was over then. I stitched up everything I was feeling, locked all the emotion down deep under the walls of practicality that had always ruled my interactions. Coolly, I said, “Well, it was fun while it lasted.”
“Caroline … I’m so sorry … I’m …” He sputtered out. His eyes dropped to the tips of his boots.
Robotically, I said, “Yeah, okay. That’s good, I guess. You know, I think I’m gonna go inside.”
He looked up at me again, let his eyes linger over me in a way that felt clawing, like he was trying to take one last glimpse, even though I didn’t want him to. “Okay,” he said so quietly.
I turned without saying anything else.
To my back he said, “Goodbye, Caroline.”
The words hit like a punch because no matter what he said, what I heard was I will always love you, but I won’t be with you, not now, not ever.
A week later, I drove out to the Morgan ranch when I knew for certain Wyatt wouldn’t be there. Like the first time I pulled up to his house, Duke came out to meet me as I was heading for the door.
He smiled his warmest, widest smile and opened his arms wide, pulling me into a giant hug. I had promised myself that I was going to maintain my composure, but I didn’t. The kindness of Duke’s embrace threw me off my game and I found myself weeping in his arms. I didn’t sob or anything, but I was crying.
“Damn,” he said, pulling me in just a little tighter. “If I don’t have one son acting like a doggone idiot, then it’s another. I’m so sorry if he hurt you, Caroline.”
I wasn’t surprised he knew about me and Wyatt, but I was surprised he sided with me over his own son. Wyatt did hurt me, so I nodded against Duke’s shoulder and then started to feel silly that I fell apart.
“I’m sorry, I didn’t come here to sob on your shoulder,” I said meekly, pulling back and wiping my eyes.
“But you could. I don’t mind one bit.”
I smiled, feeling more cared for than I had in days. Bev had sympathy for my heartbreak. But since my affair with Wyatt was a secret, I’d pretty much had to push on like I wasn’t dying inside. I was crying a lot inside bathroom stalls and behind locked doors. My father seemed to steer clear of me, other than repeatedly asking if I’d bought my ticket to Seattle and reminding me that the interview was all set for the day after tomorrow.
“I came by to talk to you about Wyatt because there is something I never got to talk to him about and I think he needs to know.”
“That sounds ominous,” Duke teased. “Should I start planning for a new surprise grandbaby?”
I tried to laugh, but only got so far as smiling. “No.”
“Darn it. You know, I really love those surprise ones.” He was trying to make me laugh, and I appreciated the effort.
I sighed before I said, “I think Wyatt’s dyslexic.”
Duke quirked his head at me. “What do you mean?”
“Well, you know how he’s always struggled with reading and his devotion to taking notes on a laptop—even when he was a kid?”
Duke nodded and added, “His mom was that way too.”
“He took some notes for me by hand when we were planning the rodeo, and there are signs, telltale ways that people with dyslexia make mistakes with letters and numbers …” I trailed off because Duke looked horrified.
Clenching his teeth, he said, “Are you telling me that my boy needed help and I didn’t realize it?”
“Oh God.” I thought I was going to cry again but I managed not to by rambling. “I’m sorry, I don’t know why I didn’t realize that this would be a big deal for you too. I’m really terrible with people. Sometimes I struggle to see how things or comments will affect others. I even got myself tested once because I thought my social behavior might be clinical, but it’s not. I’m just socially awkward …” I was being exactly that. I took a deep breath and stopped making this about me. “Duke, Wyatt is so smart. He didn’t want you to know he was struggling. That’s why you didn’t know. This isn’t your fault. It isn’t anyone’s fault. And honestly, Wyatt’s life is what he wants it to be. He’s happy.”
Duke laughed sarcastically. “Right now he isn’t.”
I ignored his comment and pulled the card I came here to bring out of the back pocket of my jeans. “This is a specialist. Someone who could help him. I was gonna tell him about it, but he didn’t give me the chance.”
“So like the last time you drove out to my house looking for me, you need me to help you manage my son?” Duke asked, clearly insinuating that he knew more than he let on that first time and that he was hoping that I was wanting more now.
I looked down at the grass between us. Was I? Was that why I came out here to give Duke this card? Was I driven purely by my Hippocratic oath? Involuntarily, I shook my head no. I brought this card to Duke because no matter how he hurt me, I was always going to love Wyatt Morgan and I wanted him to know about his dyslexia because I wanted him to get help if he wanted it. So, I didn’t come for me. I came for him.
Looking up again, I said, “No, sir. Not scheming this time. He's grown. He can manage all on his own.”
Duke shook his head, pulling me into another hug as he said, “Could’ve fooled me.”
When I left, Duke walked me to my car and held the door open as I climbed behind the steering wheel. I took one more longing look at his house, remembering how Wyatt and I ran up the stairs, desperate for each other.
“Do you have a plan, Caroline?” Duke asked, seeming more curious than anything else.