Quickie

How did I let myself get to this place with him? In the two days I’ve been with Will it’s become really clear that my relationship with Wyatt wasn’t a healthy one.

I hear car doors slamming in front of the house and I let out a sigh. It’s going to happen sooner or later. Mom leans in and gives me a squeeze. “It’s going to be okay. You’ll see.”

“Yeah,” I say weakly. “We’ll see.”

I follow her into the house as the front door opens, and Laura enters. She looks great, tan from her time in Mexico and a blinding smile on her face. Following her is Wyatt, with a smile that I know all too well. I used to think that he saved that smile only for me. Laura is the first to spot me. “Sandy!” She rushes over to me and wraps me in a giant hug. “I’m so happy you’re here. I thought you might not come because it’s just a tad awkward,” she makes a face. “But I’m so happy to see you!”

I feel hollow inside. There’s no doubt that I love my sister, but this is more than just a bit awkward. Over her shoulder, Wyatt’s eyes are fixed on me. Laura stands back and looks between us. When we don’t speak, Laura nudges me. I clear my throat. “Hello, Wyatt.” Turns out that neither of my options work. I don’t think I could cry right now and there aren’t any forks in the immediate area.

“Good to see you, Sandy.”

The way he says it is so casual and so carefree, like we’re acquaintances meeting after a long time instead what actually happened. My mother steps in, pointing out back. “We’ve set up out there, if you want to take a look.”

“Perfect!” Laura grabs Wyatt’s hand and drags him out into the backyard and I sink against the wall.

“That went well,” my mother says in a sarcastic tone.

“Yeah.”

We stand in silence for a few second before I pull myself off the wall. “Mom, I think it’s time for wine.”

She smiles. “In the kitchen, dear.”

“That’s where I’ll be if you need me.”

I open the first bottle of white wine that I can find and pour myself a more than healthy glass. I make a silent promise to myself to drink less, but this occasion calls for it.

“For what it’s worth, I offered to beat him senseless.”

I jump, turning around. “Geeze, Dad. You scared the shit out of me.”

He chuckles. “I figured this would be the best place to hide. Guess I’m not alone in thinking that?” He raises his own glass of red.

“I don’t know what we’re toasting to.”

“Survival?” It makes me smile a little, and he goes one. “I don’t like this whole thing. I have heard stories about it happening, but when it actually happens, it’s a lot less romantic and a lot messier. How are you holding up?”

“Fine, Dad. I’m fine. I brought the ring to give back to him, so hopefully that will be that.” I run my hand through my hair, and I see my Dad glance at my hand. Shit. I still haven’t figured out the best way to explain to him or anyone what’s going on.

He raises an eyebrow. “That’s not Wyatt’s ring.”

“No it’s not.” I press my lips together, because I’m not going to lie, but I’m not going to explain.

“You have something you want to tell me?”

I’m saved from answering by the loud sound of an engine in the street. It’s so loud that both my dad and I glance out the window to see where it’s coming from. What it is is the most beautiful sports car I’ve ever seen. Sleek and low to the ground in a dusky silver color, it seems to prowl across the ground. No one we know is near wealthy enough to own a car like that, which means there’s only one person who could be driving it.

The car parks and Wilcox gets out, buttoning his suit jacket and taking his sunglasses off as if he’s modeling in a commercial for the car. I can hear people in the other room wondering who he is and why he’s heading straight for our house, because everyone here knows each other.

I quickly head to the front door because I have to get to him first. I realize that we didn’t talk about how we were going to break this to my family, whether or not we just say that we’re dating or that we admit we’re married. Or if we even tell them anything right now. I manage to open the door right as he steps up to it. “Is the fact that you like to make an entrance something I should know about you?”

“One should always make an entrance, darling,” he says in an intentionally affected accent. “Impress them from the beginning and they’re putty in your hands.”