When Stars Fall by Wendy Million

Chapter Nine

Ellie

Present Day

I wait for the explosion. Tick, tick, tick. The time bomb of my life is about to detonate.

Haven eats the ice cream I bought and chats to Wyatt like they’ve been friends for years. The balloon he got her is tied loosely to her wrist. Wyatt hasn’t asked her how old she is. Usually it seems to be the first or second question people ask. She’s petite and looks younger than she is. Maybe he thinks he knows. Nikki’s daughter. We didn’t even have to say anything.

His baseball cap is turned backward. His posture, his mannerisms, and the jokes he tells remind me of when we met. He’s so light and carefree with Haven. This moment is everything I’ve ever dreamed of having but haven’t let myself hope for. Sober Wyatt. Here. It’s mind-boggling.

She’s asked him about movies, and actors and actresses he’s worked with. A few questions about me too. She stumbled over calling me Ellie, but she’s used my name enough in public that I’m not sure Wyatt noticed. Why would he question it? To him, she’s Nikki’s.

Before answering Haven’s questions about us, he glanced at me, and my heart shattered. The love in his eyes took my breath away. It’s been ten years, and he still looks at me like I’m the only woman in the room.

Of course, love was never the problem.

While he stared at me, he said, “Ellie is the best woman I’ve ever known. You’re lucky you get to spend time with her.”

The truth is so much more complicated, for all of us.

There’s a tightness across my chest at the sight of them together. He’s patient and kind with her. Bittersweet has a new meaning.

When it starts to get late and the room shades over, one of the nurses pokes her head in. “You both staying here tonight?” She eyes Wyatt, another question on her lips.

“Ellie and I will be staying.” Nikki jumps in before any other assumptions can be made.

The nurse nods. “I’ll get a cot wheeled in here.”

Wyatt sighs and stands. He grins at Haven. “I should probably get to my hotel. If you’re still here tomorrow, would you like me to stop by?”

An objection rises to the tip of my tongue, and I hold it in. I can’t deny either of them their time.

“Yes!” Haven says. “Even if I’m home, you can come over.” She turns her bright eyes and flushed face to me for approval.

Nikki intervenes before Haven gets carried away. “We’ll see what tomorrow brings, Haven.”

“Spoken like a true mother.” He stares at me, as though he’s memorizing me for later. “Can I have a quick chat with you in the hall before I take off?”

“Sure,” I say.

“Ellie.” There’s a hint of warning in Nikki’s voice.

“It’s fine.” There’s nothing Wyatt can say in the hall that’ll change my life. I have Haven and a career I love. He’s ten years too late to wheedle himself back in.

I follow him out of the room with my hands in the pockets of my shorts. When we’re alone, I lift my eyebrows in silent question.

“Dinner tomorrow? If Haven is better?” Wyatt leans his shoulder against the wall in the hallway.

“Wyatt.” Impatience seeps into my voice. “I already told you I can’t.”

“Sounds like won’t.” He scans my face, seeking something I don’t want him to recognize. “Look,” Wyatt says. “You can either agree to eat dinner with me or I can track you down. I’ve done it before.”

I shake my head, more from embarrassment than annoyance. Charm seeps out of him. Part of me is dying to react to the memories he’s stirred to the surface. We did have some good moments.

He crashed my date after we finished filming Love Letters from Spain. The memory of that night is vivid, visceral. Without a doubt, it’s the moment he swept me off my feet. He disappeared overseas to do another project. I thought we were only a set romance, so I agreed to a date with a friend of a massage client. Somehow, Wyatt found out where we were eating. He turned up, pulled up a third chair to our two-person table, and ordered a meal.

The guy I was with, I don’t even remember his name now, took the intrusion well. Wyatt was Wyatt, after all—enthralling when it suited him. He charmed the pants off my date, and he charmed me out of mine later. When our movie blew up, my date had a great story for parties—his dinner with Wyatt Burgess.

“Dinner,” I agree against my better judgment. Maybe I owe him this chance. “But it has to be at my house, and you have to cook.”

“You still don’t cook?” The corners of his mouth quirk up.

“I can cook,” I say. “But I’m not sure I’ll ever be able to cook like you.”

He rubs his hands together. “This is gonna be good, Ellie. I can sense it. The salmon?”

I close my eyes and almost moan. I snap them back open. Shit. Why does he keep bringing up these freaking fantastic memories? His salmon dish used to be like sex on a cedar plank.

His grin chips away at the ice around my heart. Crying in his arms earlier might have made the chipping a little easier. My senses flood with the memory of having him so close, and my eyelashes flutter.

“What time should I come over?”

“You cannot go grocery shopping.” I twist the ring on my middle finger. Give an inch, and he takes a mile. “Where’s your phone?”

He fishes it out of his pocket and unlocks it before passing it to me.

I click on his contacts, and I pause for a minute to question my sanity. This is for Haven. I plug my burner number into his phone. Agreeing to spend time together is wrong and right. My mind is in turmoil over the door I’m cracking open.

He’s triumphant when I return his phone.

“Text me what you need. I’ll buy it and come pick you up. Five o’clock?”

“Sounds perfect.”

“This is conditional on Haven being out of the hospital.”

“I know, Ellie. You’re a good aunt.”

I can’t make eye contact when I give him a curt nod. A good aunt.

He steps closer to me and places his hands on either side of my waist. He kisses my cheek, and I breathe him in. Can’t help myself. He’s here.

“I’ll see you tomorrow.” He turns his baseball cap around and slips his sunglasses onto his face before heading for the stairs.

“Wyatt!” I call after him. “How are you getting back?”

“Calshae said the hotel can send a car,” Wyatt says. “Go be with your family.” He disappears down the stairs with a final wave.

On the threshold of Haven’s room, I pause. Her storm of questions awaits me. Taking a deep breath, I enter.

Haven’s raised her bed to an upright position, and as soon as she sees me, she says, “Is he gone?”

“Yes,” I say.

“Mom, you have to tell him,” Haven says. “He’s so nice. And he’s my dad. He should know he’s my dad. He came, right?”

“Haven, honey. We’ve talked about this before.” My heart squeezes at the joy and confusion on her face. I sigh and drag my chair close to the side of her bed.

“I know.” Haven releases a heavy sigh. But the defeat doesn’t last long. Her resolve roars back. “I want to know him. I’m old enough to get a choice.” She reminds me so much of Wyatt—impulsive and bullheaded. Scares me to think where it could lead.

“You’re nine. You’re not twenty-nine,” I say.

“If he comes tomorrow, I could tell him. Or I could slip and call you Mom in front of him.”

Her attitude is partly the fever. I told her if Wyatt ever came looking, and he wasn’t sick anymore, we’d tell him about her. We only recently started discussing the realities of her father’s sickness. Wyatt is right about YouTube. Wonderful and horrible when your daughter is curious about her famous father.

“I’ll consider it. He’s here for the week. If you want to spend time with him, you can. But whether we’re going to reveal you’re his daughter . . . As long as you’re living under my roof, it’s my choice.”

Haven huffs out a breath and stares at Nikki. “I spend a lot of time under your roof too. Can I tell him at your house instead?”

Shit.Her teenage years will be fun.

“Speaking of which,” I say, and I glance at Nikki, “I might need a favor.”

“What’d Wyatt get you to agree to outside in the hall?” Nikki’s eyes narrow.

“Dinner tomorrow night.”

“I’m coming!” Haven says.

“No, Haven,” Nikki says. She gives me a pointed look across the bed. “If you want your mother to tell Wyatt he’s your dad, then she needs to be sure he’ll be good for you.”

I nod, as though that’s what I would have said. Our daughter as a buffer, a reminder, might be nice. Whether or not Haven could go a whole night without calling me Mom is questionable. Whenever she visits movie sets with Nikki, she calls us both Mom. People have assumed it’s a cute affectation. Bermudian citizens have protected our privacy from any prying eyes, and Nikki jumped in to help me with Haven the minute I faltered and has been by my side ever since.

The nurse comes back with the bed and rolls it in. She clicks the wheels into place. “Evelyn is on rounds tonight. Hospital is buzzing that Wyatt Burgess visited.” She grimaces. “You’re going to tell your mother that he was here, right?”

“Yeah, I’ll speak to my mom before she hears it from someone else.” Since she’s the doctor on call tonight, I might even get a chance to speak to her in person. Best to warn her before the hospital gossip mill gets to her. I take my phone out of my pocket and notice Wyatt’s already sent me his grocery list. I type out a message to my mom and then open Wyatt’s. A long list of ingredients, some I have, others I’ll have to buy. As I’m reading the list, another message from him appears.

Did you watch the whole interview the other night?

“If I turned off the interview the other night, the one Wyatt gave, would I have missed anything important?” I stare at the text. Doom drops like a stone into my stomach.

Nikki’s complexion loses its color. “You didn’t watch the entire thing? I thought you watched all of it.”

“No.” I flush and glance at Haven, who is following this conversation. “When he started talking about certain people and things, I switched it off.”

“Before you see him tomorrow, you should watch it. I’m not sure how you’ll react.” She picks at the blanket on Haven’s bed.

“Was it—did he talk more about Isaac?” My sister will understand that’s not something I can watch.

“No. It was about you and him. Mostly about him. But you should watch it. Really. People will assume you know.”

“Can I watch it?” Haven asks when the room grows quiet.

“No,” Nikki and I say in unison.

Her YouTube searches will need some heavy restrictions with the two of us thrown into the public eye again.

“Tomorrow,” I say. “I’ll watch it tomorrow before I pick him up.”

I don’t answer Wyatt’s question. We’re spending time together so I can determine if he is capable of being involved with his daughter. We aren’t getting back together. To encourage any more closeness would be wrong.