I backed off and let him climb into the driver’s seat. Walking around the other side, I took a few deep breaths and tried to hold myself together.
I had met Wyatt’s dad plenty of times before, but he was away so often that we hadn’t gotten a chance to bond. Still, I felt his loss like a brick in my stomach.
I couldn’t imagine how Wyatt must have felt in that moment or how his mom would survive it. All I could think about was how to be there for them both. I pulled open the car door and climbed inside, determined to do whatever I could to help.
We drove quickly through town.
Wyatt didn’t slow down until he pulled into his driveway. He ran inside and I followed.
Wyatt’s mom was sitting at the kitchen table. She had her cellphone in front of her, but she wasn’t looking at it. Instead, she stared out of the kitchen window with silent tears streaming down her face.
All I could think when I saw her was that she was the picture of heartbreak. If an artist tried to capture the image of a broken heart, Mrs. Murphy would had been it.
I ached for her. I took a step forward, but Wyatt was faster. He flew across the room and knelt down beside his mom. She didn’t speak, but she turned to look at him. Wyatt pulled her against him and held her while she cried.
My eyes were glued to Wyatt’s face the whole time. I could hear Mrs. Murphy sniffing and sobbing, but I couldn’t bring myself to look away from her son. Wyatt was my boyfriend and I loved him. It was his job to take care of his mom, but it was my job to take care of him. The only problem was I didn’t know how.
Slowly, I moved across the kitchen and began brewing a pot of coffee. I didn’t know why, it was just an instinct. In moments of crisis, people need something to do with their hands. Wrapping them around a warm coffee mug seemed like a good idea.
I made the coffee and carried three mugs to the table. I poured coffee into each mug and slid two across the table to Wyatt and his mom.
“Thank you, Hailey,” Mrs. Murphy said weakly.
She didn’t touch the coffee, but my feelings were not hurt. I didn’t expect her to drink it.
When she finally pulled away from Wyatt, his eyes were still dry. His face was set and hard, not a single sign of pain or weakness shone through. I knew he was putting on a good face for his mom, but I wasn’t sure how long it would last. I wanted to be there when he broke. I wanted to help him through it.
“Why don’t you go home?” Wyatt said not unkindly. They were not kind either. His words were firm and he still refused to look directly at me. “I’ll call you tomorrow.”
“I can stay,” I said quickly. “I don’t mind.”
“No,” he shook his head. “We’re fine.”
“But-”
I started to protest again but he cut me off.
“Go home, Hailey,” he repeated, voice harder now. “I don’t need you here.”
I jerked as if he had struck me. I reeled from his sudden lack of patience with me. From his words. He had never spoken to me like that before.
It felt like a physical blow.
“We’ll talk in the morning,” he continued, but he wasn’t even looking at me now. He turned back to tend to his mom.
I hesitated still but couldn’t find the words to make this better.
“Okay,” I nodded eventually, not knowing what else to do.
My word was said to his back.
He didn’t look back at me again.
I stood up reluctantly, and took a few steps toward the front door. I didn’t want to leave. It was the last thing I wanted, but I knew better than to start an argument with Wyatt.
He was going through enough. I thought he would need me, that he would want me around to hold him when he finally broke, but I was wrong. All he wanted was for me to leave.
I loved him enough to give him the space he needed even though it was breaking my heart.