“I’ll see you at work, Doctor Jenkins,” she said before turning her back on Wyatt and walking away, managing to hold back the tears until the doors of the lift closed behind her.
Heartbreak in Oxford
Wyatt
Wyatt watchedMia disappear behind the elevator doors. He waited for a few more seconds before closing the door and locking it.
Slowly, Wyatt turned and started walking to the kitchen. He felt as if he were trudging through mud, his brain as sluggish as his feet. He barely noticed that he’d reached the sink, mindlessly starting to wash the dishes with the untouched dinner he had made for himself and Mia.
“Wy?” Kylie’s tentative voice penetrated the thicket padding his brain, and Wyatt looked down at the plate he was scrubbing.
“Could you get the mugs from the living room, please?” he asked, his tone as mechanical as the circular motion of his hand, still working on the same spotless plate.
“Sure.” Despite her answer, Kylie moved closer to Wyatt, hesitantly placing a hand on his shoulder. “You know you’re wearing only one shoe, right?”
Wyatt’s gaze dropped to his feet and he barked out a laugh that quickly turned into a pained heave. The sponge and plate dropped from his shaking hands with a crash and Wyatt sank to his knees, chest heaving and blood pounding in his ears at an almost deafening volume.
“Hey.” Kylie crouched down next to him, her grip on his shoulder tightening. “Talk to me.”
“What just happened?” Wyatt barely recognized his own voice.
“I don’t know,” Kylie answered, her voice full of regret. “I’m sorry if my coming here caused this, I didn’t know…”
“No,” Wyatt cut her off. “I did this.” He clenched his fists and squeezed his eyes shut, and Kylie pulled him into a crushing hug. “I did this.”
They stayed like that for a while, Wyatt trying to make sense and order of the overwhelming emotions wrecking him. Kylie was talking, something about how everything was going to be okay, but Wyatt couldn’t bring himself to listen.
“I don’t know how to fix this,” he finally said, slumping back on his heels and away from Kylie’s embrace.
“Not with your brain.” Kylie tapped his head with her finger and offered a meek smile.
“Solid advice.”
“I’m serious, Wy.” Kylie sighed and stood, offering him her hand and pulling him up. “Girls don’t want logic, they want passion and romance.”
“Yeah, well, passion wasn’t the problem,” Wyatt said, walking to the sink to clean up the broken plate. Kylie followed and leaned against the counter next to him, eyeing the shards still inside the sink. She had their mother’s propensity for self-injury and was smarter than to try to help. “And you don’t know Mia. She’s calculated and driven, methodical, brilliant.”
“So, you as a woman.”
Wyatt hated how close to home that observation was. Despite being more open than Mia to the idea of a real relationship, he’d been tiptoeing around the subject, escaping to analytical actions rather than being honest with Mia about how he felt. He really was an idiot, and the acknowledgment that his mind had utterly failed him was devastating.
“Her head isn’t filled with fluffy notions about love.” It was a low jab, one Wyatt immediately regretted, but Kylie just shrugged.
“Maybe, but in the end, all women want the same thing,” she said, looking up at Wyatt with her bright blue eyes identical to their mother’s, and a pang of longing for home mixed into the pain oozing out of every pore.
“And that thing would be?”
“Someone who doesn’t easily give up on them,” Kylie answered. “Someone who fights for them and is worth fighting for.” Wyatt stared silently at the sink while Kylie stared at him. “Is Mia worth fighting for?”
Wyatt nodded. “Sheis. I’m not sure she feels the same way about me, though.”
“Come on, Wy, I saw the way she looked at you. I don’t know what her story is, but she’s in just as deep as you.” Kylie sighed, pinching the bridge of her nose. She was tired, Wyatt realized, probably hungry as well if judging by her slight frown, and he cursed himself for throwing away the food he’d cooked.
“I still haven’t eaten,” Wyatt said as he finished cleaning up the sink. “Want to order something? Indian?”
“Yeah, sounds good.” Kylie’s frown lifted a bit in gratitude, and Wyatt pulled out his phone.
“I’m sorry I wasn’t nicer about the whole Gustav thing,” Wyatt said, pausing his takeaway order to look at his twin. “I hate that he hurt you like that.”