Page 75 of The Reason I Married Him
He follows me and takes a seat as well while popping open the bakery box to reveal my favorite muffin again. It’s a sweet gesture, one that I’ll always accept. He might annoy me, but underneath it all, he’s a nice guy.
“Let me guess, you didn’t get much sleep last night.”
“Barely any,” I say.
“Me neither,” he says. That surprises me. He seems so untouched by this entire scenario like he wasn’t mentally affected by any of this.
“Really?” I ask. “That doesn’t seem to bother you.”
“Why do you say that?” he asks as he takes the paper wrapper off one of the muffins.
“Because you just seem so chill, like this isn’t a big deal.”
“I know what kind of sacrifice this is, Aubree,” he says softly. “That doesn’t escape me. I just tend to keep things positive if I can. But yesterday, when Hattie hugged you because she was so excited about you falling in love . . . I don’t know . . .” He stares down at his muffin. “It made me feel guilty. I didn’t think she was going to be that thrilled.”
“I think it’s one of those things where she’s in love, so she wants everyone to be in love, you know?”
He nods in understanding. “Anyway, I just felt bad and started thinking about everything.” He looks up at me, those deep brown eyes so sincere that it’s almost hard to keep our gaze connected. “If you want to bow out, it’s fine. I understand.” He sighs while dragging his hand over his face. “I just feel like I went about this the wrong way, and now?—”
“You’re getting cold feet,” I say.
“No,” he replies. “I’d still do this. I just feel bad about the way I pressured you. We’re not talking about being fake boyfriendand girlfriend; that would be way less of a stress for me. We’re talking about getting married. And the guilt I feel about dragging you down this journey is consuming me. So . . .” He wets his lips and picks at his muffin. “You can just take the land, Aubree. I know I don’t want it, and you do. I feel like a dick, forcing you to do something just so you can cherish a piece of your sister. It makes me feel like a total asshole, and I don’t want to feel that way. So it’s yours.”
I am stunned.
Because that was the last thing I thought he’d say when I saw him in the barn with a bakery box.
I assumed he was here to talk logistics and to let me know when and where he’d propose. Maybe give me an update on the prenup.
But to just offer me the land . . .
“Wyatt, you don’t?—”
“I do,” he says, his demeanor changing. “I laid awake all night thinking about it. Thinking about the way Hattie hugged you out of pure joy, and it just hit me that this isn’t just our lives we’re messing with. This is a lot of people’s lives. And I don’t want to ruin what you have going on here. You have a great support system and a great town. I’m just going to mess it up with this plan, so . . . yeah, you can have the land, and I’ll figure something out when it comes to the cabin.” His eyes meet mine. “I’m sorry I brought this stress on you.”
He smiles softly and rises from the bench, stepping away from me. And at that moment, the weirdest thing happens to me. I’ll probably never be able to describe it properly, but with that one step, that slight distance, it feels like something inside me is being pulled with him.
It’s an odd feeling.
It’s something unexpected that forces me to reach out as he passes and grab his wrist.
Surprised, he pauses and stares down at me, looking for answers.
But I have none. I’m just as stunned as he is.
Because this is what I wanted. I wanted the land, no strings attached. I wanted to be able to just focus on the farm, making it grow, and carrying on Cassidy’s dreams of what this place could become.
But here I am, grabbing Wyatt’s hand, preventing him from leaving.
And I have no idea why.
“Yes?” he asks after a few seconds of silence.
Nothing comes to mind.
Not a word.
Not a thought.
