Erika’s hands squeezed into fists. She pressed them against her rib cage. “Your phone kept buzzing and buzzing and I was worried something had happened to someone in your family.” Her voice faded, her shoulder shifting. “But it was only your girlfriends checking in, excited to be with you again. I shouldn’t be surprised. I knew who you were from the beginning—”
“What does that mean?”
“I think you know. You made it really clear in the beginning. You don’t stick around. Women are just for fun. You have a hookup in every town.”
“I never said that.”
“You didn’t have to. It was pretty easy to figure out. April, the blonde from Las Vegas. The brunette in Tucson. The redhead in San Antonio.”
He widened his stance, feet planted shoulder width apart. “I don’t really see how my private life is any of your business.”
Those were the wrong words. Absolutely the wrong thing for him to say. None of her business? What had she been doing here all spring?
Fresh rage rolled through her, rage and indignation. “Obviously, I don’t matter here. I’m just one more female to make your life comfortable. I could be anyone. You could replace me like that.” She snapped her fingers. “I could be hired help, someone you booked from a domestic agency. All you have to do is contact one of those sitting services and I’d be replaced.”
“I never asked you to give up your whole life for me. I never asked you to sacrifice everything. You volunteered. You said let me stay until you’re on your feet again. You said you wanted to be the one with Beck, you said—”
“I know perfectly well what I said, but I had no idea that while I struggled to help you and Beck you were sending sexy texts to women, letting them know when you’d be back in town. The good time cowboy—”
“Is that what you really think of me?”
“Don’t act injured. This is your persona. It’s who you want to be, who you want everyone to see. Hit Billy Wyatt up for a good time.”
“You’re not stuck here, Erika. Not trapped. If you’re so miserable, go. We don’t need you playing Nurse Nightingale. We can manage without you.”
Again, the wrong words for him to say. His words felt like gasoline hitting a fire. She just exploded, something she never, ever did. “Wow, glad we got that squared away. Thanks for explaining a lot of things I was clueless about.”
She left the kitchen and returned to her room, carefully closing the door behind her, not wanting to wake Beck.
For a long minute, she just stood, back pressed to the door, hands pinned beneath her backside, trying to stop them from trembling. She was in over her head. Go, stay, it was all the same. No matter what she did now, it would crush her. Badly.
Despite her best intentions, she’d become one of those women who held out hope that a man could change, or would change. She’d held out hope that Billy would fall in love with her, and want a life together, that those walls he’d put up around his heart would tumble down, and he’d realize that she was his other half, the one he’d been waiting for.
And yet how many times had he told her he didn’t love? That he was the Wyatt who didn’t fall in love? She’d known all of this from day one, and yet she’d still secretly hoped.
Prayed.
Believed.
She could see why she’d hoped and believed. It was easy being with Billy, so easy spending time with him. He was smart and sexy and incredibly loving with Beck. He was funny, kind, interesting. Just watching TV with him was entertaining. Going for a drive to Bryce had been the highlight of her stay. Lunch at that historic inn diner had been a treat. They’d wandered through the gift shop, showing each other this and that, as if they were a couple.
There were so many times they felt like a couple, where he, Billy Wyatt, felt like her person.
For the first time since she was seventeen she hadn’t felt alone. She had people who needed her, and people who cared for her, and this sense of belonging had made her feel… wonderful.
So no, she couldn’t blame Billy for making her feel so much. There was no blame here. She’d wanted every minute with him she could have. It had actually been selfish on her part because she’d relished, cherished feeling good. She’d loved feeling happy. She hadn’t even known it was possible to feel this way, not with someone else, not in her own skin. These past few weeks she had just loved Billy and Beck, and she’d come to love herself.
She loved herself for maybe the first time ever.
It had been a revelation to realize she didn’t need big things, she didn’t need multiple college degrees, didn’t need others to be impressed by her, either. What she needed was to feel like she belonged somewhere, and she had belonged here, even if briefly.
The idea that she had to go now was beyond devastating. But obviously she couldn’t stay. Billy had made it clear that it was time for her to move on. Her heart went out to April and all the women Billy said goodbye to. She imagined him having the goodbye conversation countless times with countless women. It’s over, time to move on, it’s been fun but we have to get on with our lives, alone.
Erika was awake most of the night, sleeping in just patches, opening her eyes every so often to look at her phone. When it was four fifteen she gave up trying to sleep, and turned on her light and packed. She tore a page from a notebook and wrote Billy a goodbye, asking him not to contact her, and to just let her go. When she was ready, she’d reach out about visits with Beck, but it might be months, might be next year. All she asked of him was to respect her need for a complete break at this time.
*
When Erika emerged from her room the next morning she was shocked to see Ellen in the kitchen.
“What are you doing here?” Erika asked.
Ellen faced her, expression neutral. “Billy texted last night and asked if I’d watch Beck today. He said you each had plans and he needed childcare.”
Erika’s heart fell. If Billy had arranged childcare, he’d expected changes today. He’d either expected her to leave, or he was going to ask her to go.
Erika glanced out the kitchen window. The sun was rising in the sky, painting the top of the mountains pink and gold. “Since you’re here, I think I’ll just slip out now,” she said. “Before everyone’s awake. I’m terrible with goodbyes.”
Ellen looked confused. “You’re leaving?”
Erika nodded. “I need to get back to Riverside. It’s going to be a long drive.” And then she went to her room, left the goodbye letter on her bed, and collected her suitcases, carrying them outside to the trunk of her car.
Erika was glad Beck still slept. She didn’t know how she’d say goodbye to him without falling apart, and Beck didn’t need drama swirling around him. Conversely, there was no point saying goodbye to Billy. What would she say to him anyway? And what would he say to her? She might as well save them an uncomfortable farewell where meaningless words would be exchanged.
In her car she buckled up, and reversed, before pulling out of the driveway. She drove down the road at a moderate speed until she hit the highway, and then once there, drove fast, the speed a relief.
Her heart burned, and her chest burned, and her eyes burned. She was on fire, head to toe, and she drove as if she could escape the pain within her. She hurt and hurt and hurt, her entire past with all the abandonment and hollow goodbyes rising up to swamp her, reminding her just how easy it was for people to leave, to walk away. Her dad hadn’t just left Mom, but he’d left her. Mom had disappeared into anger and her new church, where she could pretend she was loving and kind, as long as she didn’t have to interact with her own daughter.