“I don’t understand. What are you saying?”
She released a frustrated breath and took Cooper from Wyatt’s arms. “If I hadn’t gotten involved with you, you wouldn’t have put me on Belle’s emergency contact list. And if I wasn’t on her list, I would have gotten to Cooper’s doctor’s appointment. Not only would I have a happy kid now, I could have trained my new manager myself instead of calling in Miranda—who I already depend on too much.”
Wyatt rubbed his face with both hands. “Don’t do this, Gypsy. It was a mistake. An innocent mistake. I messed up and I feel horrible about it—”
“I believe you. And I agree, it was an innocent mistake. But it was a mistake that reminded me why I stopped dating. I can’t do this with you. You’re a good friend and a good guy, but we can’t be involved. I’m sorry.”
She reached out and pulled open the glass door.
Wyatt put a hand on her arm. “Come on, Gypsy. There’s got to be some middle ground here. Let’s talk it out.”
She shook her head. “No. The kids are too young to be complicating priorities with a relationship. They need us on our best game, and this isn't our best game. We’re both better than this.” She glanced at Belle, and tears stung Gypsy’s eyes, but she still met Wyatt’s gaze directly. “She’s a brave little girl, and she deserves better. So do I, and so does Cooper." She laid her hand on the papers sitting on a silver bed tray. "These are your discharge instructions."
19
Wyatt was about to reach for her again, but she stepped away, exiting the emergency room without looking back.
His heart dropped to his stomach, but frustration still tightened his shoulders. She was acting like he’d been out partying, purposely abandoning Belle.
“Uncle Wyatt?” Belle’s weak, tear filled voice dragged a razor down his spine.
He spun toward her and stepped up beside the bed, running his hand over her forehead and into her hair. It was all tangled, with knots that would be hell to get out. Her face was pale, her cheeks tearstained.
“Hey. You had a pretty rough day, huh?”
Sniffles and tears started up. “Where were you?”
There was no accusation in her tone, just honest bewilderment, but the fact that she had to ask almost took his legs out from under him. He leaned on the gurney. “I was working, honey. I’m sorry I wasn’t here.”
She looked at her cast, and the tears started to pour. “I don’t like this. I want it off.”
“I know, honey. How did you hurt yourself?”
“On the swings.” She pushed her tears off her cheek with her good hand. “I fell off.” She started crying harder. “I want Mommy. When is M-Mommy coming h-home?”
Belle wanting her mother and Gypsy walking away were the final cracks in his unstable life. All the weaknesses in his world gave way, and he felt his life crumbling.
Wyatt eased Belle to the far side of the gurney, then climbed on beside her. He pulled her close and stroked her hair, something that calmed her at night. She pressed her face to his chest and sobbed. Wyatt’s heart cracked. He closed his eyes and rested an arm across his eyes.
But when Belle showed no signs of calming, he knew it was time to do what he’d sworn he wouldn’t do. He pulled out his phone and dialed.
It rang twice before his mother picked up. “Your father and I were just thinking about calling you. This cruise is amazing. The ship is beautiful, and the food, oh my goodness, we’ve never eaten so well. We’re both going to be ten pounds heavier by the time we—” She stopped suddenly, and a moment passed, filled only with Belle’s pathetic, heartbreaking wails. “Is that Belle? What’s wrong? What happened?”
Wyatt took a deep breath, then started to talk with tears stinging his own eyes.
By the time Wyatt got Belle home, she was asleep again. Whatever the doctor gave her for pain knocked her out, which was a good thing, because she was going to need sleep to heal. And Wyatt needed time to think.
He laid her down in the extra bedroom closest to Wyatt’s room, took off her shoes, and covered her with an extra blanket. There was no way in hell he was going to wake her to get changed or under the covers.
He sat there a long time, in the dark, with moonlight illuminating the room, just staring at Belle. His mother hadn’t said anything he didn’t already know, or anything Gypsy hadn’t already said, but knowing she was behind him and that she and his dad were on their way home eased some stress even as it created guilt.
His talk with his parents made Wyatt think about Gypsy’s support systems. Made him realize that Gypsy never had parents who were one hundred percent on her side. She was more like Belle than him. She’d had an unstable home life in her early years, which explained her dedication to Cooper and her reluctance to get involved with a man.
And what had Wyatt done? He’d gone and proven he was just like every other flake she’d ever dated. Not on purpose, but, in a way, that almost made it worse. He’d been so stupid he hadn’t kept track of the time. He hadn’t monitored his phone. And he’d been so caught up in his music, he’d been oblivious to everyone but himself.
Fuck. He had a serious problem. First Brody, then Francie, and now Belle and Gypsy. He’d let them all down.
Wyatt let out a long, deep breath. His shoulders slumped. Gypsy was right to walk away. Wyatt was a fucking mess. Even worse, his mess had rubbed off on her and Cooper. What in the hell could he offer a woman as together as Gypsy anyway? She was young, beautiful, sexy, successful, an amazing mother, sister, and friend. She had concrete morals and values and lived by them authentically.
Only now, during what felt like one of the darkest nights in his life, did he realize this was exactly why he hadn’t gone after Gypsy over the last three years. Because, in his gut, he knew he wasn’t good enough for her. In his gut, he knew she deserved better.
She’d been right. About everything.
Belle stirred and mumbled. Her eyelids fluttered. “Uncle Wyatt.”
She clearly wasn’t awake, but Wyatt sat on the edge of her bed, put his hand on her back, and sang the theme song to Beauty and the Beast until she quieted.
“I’m sorry, monkey,” he whispered, brushing her hair off her cheek. “I’ll do better.”
Wyatt felt fifty pounds heavier as he moved down the stairs and into the kitchen. He leaned back against the quartz counter, crossed his arms, and stared out at the incredible view of Nashville that filled almost every window of his house.
The view from Gypsy’s thinkin’ spot was just as nice.
That one little thought took him back to their night together. He’d been flying so damn high when he’d finally carried a sleeping Belle to his truck and kissed Gypsy good night.
He rubbed a hand down his face. “Damn, I fucked up.”
He was seriously questioning his role as a father to Belle. He had no idea what Brody and Francie saw in him.
Thinking about Brody dragged his gaze to the letter. He’d left the envelope on the counter where he dropped all his things when he came in the door. This seemed like as good a time as any to read it. He already felt like shit. Might as well get this out of the way too.