When Stars Fall by Wendy Million

Chapter Eighteen

Ellie

Present Day

While Wyatt is in the kitchen, I turn on my regular phone. I ignore the messages, voice mails, and other nonsense I’ll be forced to deal with eventually. My PR can handle the bulk of the storm.

I scroll through my contacts, searching for Calshae’s number. There she is. I send a text asking her to collect Wyatt if she’s available.

Slouched into the couch, I wait for her reply. My skin hums from standing so close to Wyatt, from touching him. Any time I come near something similar with anyone else, I cut the relationship short. Tell myself I no longer crave the intensity. But that isn’t it. I fear the kind of love Wyatt inspires. Once you realize its power, you either seek the sensation like an addict or run like hell whenever that emotion appears. I’m a runner; Wyatt is a seeker.

Calshae sends a thumbs-up emoji, and I sigh with relief. He needs to leave before I cave in an epic manner. Haven does not need to wake up tomorrow morning to find her father slept over. If he kissed me, he could ask for anything, and I’d give it.

I wander into the kitchen to tell Wyatt Calshae is on her way.

“I pay people to do those things,” Wyatt says. “Have someone do it. If it’s too hard for you to manage with Jamal, ask Camila to take over.”

I stand in the doorway and frown. Jamal? He sees me and looks flustered.

“Look, I gotta go. You understand where I am.” He listens for a moment and then sighs. “I know, I know. It’s fine. It’s fine. I’ll see you in a few days, okay?”

He hangs up and slips the phone into his pocket.

“I texted Calshae. She’s on her way.”

He leans against the island and watches me, not bothering to explain his conversation. While he doesn’t owe me the information, I want the details, even if I don’t deserve them. His stare means he’s calculating something. “What’s up for tomorrow?”

“If we can’t agree on how a relationship will work, it’s best if we let whatever this once was go.” Last time I compromised about everything, but I’m not a young, naive girl in love anymore.

“There might be movement on my end about where we live. I have something I’ll need to check, but location isn’t a deal breaker for me.”

“You’re willing to say anything. Anything to get me to say yes.”

“So?” He shrugs.

“Once I say yes, I’m worried you’ll change the playing field. Suddenly LA needs to be a compromise. Your social media accounts are for fun, maybe a drink or two socially . . .” I picture the younger Wyatt, who had no boundaries. The security intercom buzzer goes, and I walk over and press it. “Yeah, Freddie?”

“Calshae Simmons says she’s here to get Wyatt?”

Thank God the island is small. “He’ll be out in a minute,” I say. “Tell her I said thanks for coming.”

“Tomorrow, Ellie,” he reminds me.

“It’s a busy day.” Only a partial lie. I could rearrange most of my commitments, but I haven’t yet. I open the side door.

He stands so close the heat radiating off his body warms me. I shouldn’t make eye contact. Avoid the charm. Keep your head down, Ellie.

When I glance up, his light eyes are filled with sincerity, not the desire or teasing I expected. Whatever he’s going to say next, he’ll mean it.

“You can be happy with me. I won’t be the one making you sad anymore.”

“My mom and I are having breakfast. I’m running a drama program in the afternoon for kids at a local high school.” He lights up. “You can’t come,” I say. “Teenagers and their phones. You’d be spread across the internet.”

“Kids love me.” Wyatt waggles his eyebrows. He must be able to sense I’m close to giving in.

“Most people seem to—color me surprised.” A short laugh escapes me.

“You wound me, Ellie.” He takes my hand and places it in the center of his chest.

My breath catches, and my heart kicks into gear. A simple touch from him electrifies my body. Deeply unfair for this intensity to still exist between us.

“Dinner? That’s it. Haven wanted to do that kayaking and snorkeling thing.” He’s pressing his advantage. His instincts are good.

I mull it over for a moment and nod. Dinner is harmless, right? He smooths my hair and kisses my forehead before disappearing out the door.

My eyes are closed to savor the contact, and the cool ocean breeze blows around me. Haven’s the only reason I’m not following him out the door to drag him back. I must keep my head level. I can’t be swept away again.

My mother pours another cup of tea from the tea set on her kitchen table and tips her chin in expectation. We’ve discussed everything but Wyatt. People talk, and the hospital is a gossip hive.

“What do you want to know?” I sigh.

“It should be obvious.” She throws out the hand that isn’t holding her cup of tea. “Are you going to tell him about Haven?”

“I’m not sure.” I wiggle in my seat. The big question, the one looming over every interaction.

“How long did he say he’s been clean and sober?”

“About two years.” Not long, but I don’t know how long it needs to be.

My mother works with addiction cases as a doctor. The first time I brought Wyatt home, she told me he seemed like a nice guy, but it was a shame about the drug habit. Those words would come to haunt me later.

“Are you happy he’s here?” She’s getting to the other heart of the matter.

I take a deep breath and decide on honesty. “Yes.”

“Mm-hmm.”

“What does that mean?”

“Do you remember about a year ago, when you were dating Matt, I asked if you would ever get married?”

That conversation is burned into my brain. At that point, marrying Matt hadn’t occurred to me. We broke up not long after. Even though the relationship was good, I couldn’t make myself feel what Matt clearly felt.

“I realized then Wyatt was the one holding you back. Whether you want to admit it or not, you’ve had one foot in a relationship with him for ten years. That’s the truth. You never let anyone else get close enough. The men you dated after him were dependable, reasonable, logical. Wonderful for some, but not right for you.”

I take my empty cup to the sink. My mother has always been insightful. In the ten years since I left him, she’s never confronted me about my residual feelings. “Why didn’t you say anything?” I turn around so I’m leaning against the counter to face her.

“Because if he was still an addict, love or not, he wasn’t right for you and Haven. He wasn’t. He couldn’t be.”

“You always seemed to like my other boyfriends . . .”

“There’s nothing not to like. Steady, dependable. They treated you well. You seemed to like them.”

“You make it sound so dry.”

“Seems like a good word.”

I’ve never thought of my mother as being on Wyatt’s side, and maybe that’s not what this is either. Maybe she’s digging at the same point as Wyatt. There is a difference between happy and content. But I’m terrified of what Wyatt and I will have to wade through to have any chance at happiness again. “Should I tell him about Haven?”

“I can’t decide that for you.” She consults her teacup, as though it has all the answers. “If it was me, I’d wait a day or two. The risk, of course, is twofold. Someone else could expose you—so many people on the island are aware she’s his. And the second problem is that the longer you wait, the more likely he is to be Wyatt-level angry.”

Wyatt-level angry. Been a while since I’ve had to consider that.

“But it’s not my fault. I tried to talk to him before leaving, and he wouldn’t listen. Mom, the things he said to me that day.” I shake my head. “After Haven was born, I went back to try to talk. He wasn’t capable of being a good father or partner. When he didn’t remember, I decided he couldn’t know. Inviting that version of him into my life was a bad idea.”

Her expression softens. “I’m aware of the choices you made, honey. I’m warning you Wyatt might not process it through your eyes. He’s missed almost ten years with her. It’s a lot. He’s her father, and you’ve tried twice in ten years to tell him.”

“Mom!” Anxiety creeps across my chest. “You’re not helping.”

“This is preparation for how he’s going to view it. I don’t disagree with how you’ve handled your situation. Given the lifestyle Wyatt was leading, you did your best to protect Haven and keep her safe.” My mother’s blue eyes are filled with sympathy. “I realize how hard it was for you to give him up.”

My secret shame is how much I resented Haven for the first few months. If she didn’t exist, I would have been with Wyatt. But I made the choice to keep her, knowing what it might mean. Deep down, I was sure Wyatt would cave. He’d seek me out. He’d get help. I didn’t expect it to take him ten years. The way he loved me—I didn’t believe there was anything bigger, more intense than that. I was wrong.

“I want you to understand that if you do tell him, it might not be sunshine and roses with a happily-ever-after.” She drains the last of her tea and crosses to put it in the sink beside me.

“He’s decided she’s Nikki’s daughter with a deadbeat guy.”

“Yes, Nikki told me. That’s what you’ve wanted the rest of the world to believe. Why wouldn’t he?”

“I guess I thought that once he saw her, he might recognize the parts of himself in her that I see so clearly.”

“Oh, honey. You have to know to look. That’s doubly true if you’re a man.” She gives me a wink.

“What does Dad think?”

“Oh, in your father’s eyes, you and Nikki can do no wrong. He’d walk through fire for you both.”

We’ve always had a strong father-daughter relationship. “Haven should have a chance to experience that relationship with Wyatt.”

My mother doesn’t say anything; she just looks at me with her wise eyes.

“If he seems okay today and tomorrow, I’ll tell him.”

She pats me on the arm. “Good girl.”