When Stars Fall by Wendy Million

Chapter Thirty-Seven

Wyatt

Present Day

The full moon shines inside the trailer, illuminating Ellie while we chat. I’ve never seen anything as beautiful as Ellie’s face as she speaks to me, really opens up, for the first time in ten years. We’ve been winding our way through the lost years for most of the night. God, I was a fool to let her go. Never again. Never again. Doesn’t matter what I have to do.

“Wyatt.” She presses her face into my shoulder.

“Still here.” I kiss the top of her head. Inhaling her shampoo, I want to smother her with love. If my heart was this full the first time around, the drugs must have dulled it. A damn tragedy in itself. I get Ellie. I get Haven. A fresh start with our new baby, and a chance to be a present, involved father right from the beginning.

“I should warn you about something, or ask you to . . .” She purses her lips and seems to be searching for her words. “Watch out for me.” She rotates to stare at the ceiling.

“What’s that mean?” I prop my head on my hand.

“When I had Haven, I got sick. Kinda scary-sick.” She glances at me. “My mom told me the same thing may never happen again, but if it does . . .”

“What happened?” I lace our fingers together. Ellie was sick enough to scare herself and her mother last time, and I wasn’t there to help her, to protect her.

“Postpartum depression. Quite bad.” She mirrors my pose, her head in her hand. She focuses on our intertwined fingers. “I hope I never feel that way again. It was terrible. I thought I was the worst mother ever. My mom says postpartum is common and nothing to be ashamed of, but it leveled me. I’ve never felt that low—didn’t realize those feelings existed. A maze I couldn’t find my way out of.”

When we were together, she was the rock, the tough one. In any crisis, she was the person I looked to, the one I leaned on. That I wasn’t there for her when she needed it most makes my chest ache.

“Is that why you came to see me in LA after Haven was born?”

She’s quiet for so long I’m not sure she’s going to answer. “I was mixed up, and I needed you to be someone you weren’t capable of being.”

“I can be that person now. You won’t be alone.” I tip her chin so she’s forced to look at me. “I won’t let you down.”

“I believe you.” Tears pool in her eyes and she gives a curt nod.

On the bedside table, my alarm buzzes. I hit the snooze before glancing out the window. The sun hasn’t come up yet. A damn early call time when I would give anything to stay in bed. I’m afraid to leave this room, with this bubble we’ve created over the last few hours. It’s delicate, and anything could pop it and put me—us—right back where we were before.

“Wyatt.” Her hand lands on my arm.

I turn and fold her into me. “Something else?” I squeeze her tight. If I’m a little late, no one will get too upset.

“Anna.” She skims my shoulder with her lips. “I love you, and I want to be with you. For us to be a family. But the way she behaved yesterday . . . the way she is now, I don’t want her around our kids.” She presses her cheek against my bare chest. “I don’t even want her around her own kid.”

I rub my face with my free hand and draw Ellie against me. One of her legs settles over mine. “My situation with Anna is complicated.”

“But that doesn’t mean we do nothing. That poor kid. And Haven—she doesn’t understand either.”

“What are you suggesting?” Part of me has known for a long time where Anna and I were headed. I haven’t been able to face that road.

“Custody. You and I go after custody of Jamal.”

Having her here, talking about these things with her, is good and terrible. Anna’s my baby sister. “Do you want to know why I haven’t done anything yet?” She glances up at me, but she doesn’t say anything. “Because Anna’s rock bottom comes after she’s lost him. To me, her rock bottom looks a lot like Isaac’s spiral. I can’t be responsible for someone’s death again.”

“Oh, Wyatt. What happened to Isaac wasn’t your fault. There were things going on with him we couldn’t understand because he didn’t let us.”

“But he lived with me. We were best friends from the time we were six until the day he died. If anyone should have known he was headed that way, it was me.”

She feathers kisses meant to comfort across my skin, and her fingers graze my nipple. I cover her hand with mine, stilling her exploration. I can’t concentrate when her hands roam my body. Sinking into her and forgetting the rest of the world exists is too tempting.

“I see the signs in Anna. If I take Jamal, she might end up dead.”

“That’s what you think?” Her hand flattens on my chest.

“There’s a thin cord named Jamal keeping Anna from going too far. Without him, Anna won’t have a reason to stop.” Now that I’m clean and sober, I recognize the reasonable logic, but I understand how an addict thinks. The addict in me knows how Anna will respond. This isn’t a leap.

Without Jamal, any reason she may have to get clean is gone. Pain and regret can so easily be buried under a pile of pills, hard drugs, and alcohol. I did the same with Kabir, with Isaac, and then I did it again when Ellie left. The spiral and I are well acquainted.

“What if you talk to her? Ask her to go to rehab or whatever else she needs to do?”

“You think we haven’t had those conversations?”

Her shoulders rise and fall almost imperceptibly. “Maybe she didn’t believe you meant it.”

The day Ellie left me I didn’t mean my threat. I didn’t want her to leave. The cracks in my chest that were starting to seal over begin to re-open.

She squeezes me tight as though sensing the shift in my mood.

My alarm sounds again. Kissing the top of her head, I slide out of bed. At the edge, I sit for a minute with my back to her, feet pressed into the floor.

“Is Anna a deal breaker?” The trick will be to tell Anna I’m taking Jamal. The consequences of that conversation make my heart stutter. There’s a light touch on my shoulder, but I don’t look at her. I can’t. There’s nothing I won’t give up to keep her, Haven, and this baby.

“My priority is our kids. I love you, and I’ll probably love you until the day I die. That’ll never change.” Her hand withdraws from my back. “Our kids deserve to grow up happy and safe.”

My skin tingles from her touch, and I don’t want to leave this room. I can’t face the idea of sending my sister to her grave.

Over my shoulder, I say, “I’ll talk to Anna tonight. I’ve gotta work through how to do this. If I can stop her from hurting herself, I need to do that. You and the kids are my family, but so is she.”

“If Nikki were in the same position, I’d move heaven and earth to save her. What can we do if she doesn’t want the kind of help she needs?”

I need to make her want our help. Seems simple. Except I understand how impossible it is. Right about now, a little divine intervention would be amazing.

“I’ll see you on set in a couple hours.” Her smile is tired but genuine. “Right now, in this moment, I’m really happy.”

“Me too.” But there’s a dark cloud swirling. No matter how I approach Anna, the outcome is clear. What I do next, I’ll have to live with for the rest of my life.