Wyatt turned away from the door before his emotions got the better of him and he punched the messenger. He let his sister say good-bye to Terry. He just sat numbly on the couch and stared at the letter in his hand. Clay sat beside him, and it was one of the nice things about his best friend. He didn’t press anything. He simply let Wyatt digest that his life had just been shattered.
He was still staring at the letter an hour later when Jules spoke from her seat on the other side of him. “Are you gonna open it?”
He shook his head. “If I open it, that’ll mean it’s over.”
“I’m sorry, Wy Wy.” Jules wrapped an arm around him and leaned her forehead against his shoulder. She cried the tears he felt too dead inside to cry and then reached over and took it from him. “Do you want me to open it for you?”
“No, burn it instead.”
“Wyatt, you need to know what it says,” Clay finally broke his silence to say somberly. “If you don’t know, it’ll drive you crazy. We all need to know why she would do this. It’s like she betrayed all of us by turning to that crap. We need a good reason. There
has
to be one.”
He took it back from his sister, knowing Clay was probably right. He could hear the hurt in Clay’s voice, the absolute denial that this was happening. There was some clue in this envelope about why the girl he had loved for as long as he could remember would leave him over one fight.
It was a terrible fight, but still.
He stood and stuffed the envelope into his back pocket. “I’m going outside.”
“You want me to go with you?” Jules asked him and then wiped at her cheeks. “We’ll both go with you.”
“I know.” He nodded and gave her a weak smile. “But I think I should be by myself when I read it.”
“Okay.” She reached out to poke his side in a way that would have been playful any other day but today. “We’ll be here.”
He went out to the lake in back, remembering all the times he walked Tabitha from her car in the dead of night to get her up to his bedroom so they could laugh and love each other without anyone else in the world getting in the way. He sat down heavily on a rock by the embankment and used care to open the envelope when usually he would tear one open.
He pulled out the letter and stared down at it, willing some sort of peace for himself.
Wyatt,
Please be happy.
Love life like only you can.
Be amazing at everything you do.
Never stop being silly. I always loved you for it, even when I said I didn’t.
Letting me stay gone is your last gift to me, and I know in my heart you’ll give it to me. You said I could have anything. This is what I want.
I’m sorry. I know the moon would’ve been easier.
I will never, not until the day I stop breathing air, regret what we had together.
My childhood was beautiful because of you.
Thank you for staying a perfect memory,
Tabitha
Wyatt stared down at the letter until the words started to run. He realized he was crying again when he thought the tears had dried up days ago. He hated this letter. He abhorred it for containing the one thing that would keep him from going after her. He wanted to ball it up and throw it in the lake, but he couldn’t. This letter told him something happened. He could see through the lines, could read the intensity of it. The wild desperation on Tabitha’s part not to be found. What if it was something Wyatt couldn’t face? Worse, what if seeing him somehow reminded her of what she was trying to escape and pushed her to do something rash again? Jules said Tabitha made him stupid, and he knew his sister was usually right about most things. He just never expected that blind love and stupidity to damage Tabitha, but it had. He’d broken his own rule in life.
He didn’t want to hurt her. Not again. He would do anything to prevent it.
He folded it up and stuck it in the envelope instead. Then he slid his wedding ring off his finger and threw it into the lake in its place.
That was his final gift to Tabitha.
He never could say no to his girl.
Chapter Twenty-Six
August, 2000
New York City
“My brother could take that guy, you know? Just ’cause he got a technical knockout in the first round don’t mean nothing.”
Tabitha looked over at the kid sitting next to her in the bar. He was obviously Italian, with the New York accent to match. She instantly liked him. Her little nook of New York was mostly Italian, which was the reason she’d settled here after shopping for apartments for such a long time. They had a brassiness to them she appreciated.
It sort of reminded her of Wyatt.
“Oh yeah?” Tabitha turned in her stool and arched a skeptical eyebrow at him. “You sure ’bout that? He’s pretty badass. I saw him do a roundhouse off the cage once that’d knock your socks off.”
“Hell, my brother’s bigger than him.” He gestured to the television hanging over the bar that was broadcasting the UFC fight. “And he’s got a whole shitload of black belts. He could kick his ass blindfolded.”
“Your brother sounds like a scary guy. Does he know you’re hanging out in a bar?”
“Nah, what my brother doesn’t know won’t hurt him.” He shrugged with a mischievous grin. “Besides, I got a reason for being here.”
“What’s your reason?”
“I’m taking care of business.”
Tabitha laughed, which was nice. She hadn’t laughed much since she’d left Wyatt.
“Nova, stop busting my customers’ balls,” the bartender said. “Shoo. Your brother will tan your hide if he finds out you’re hanging around here.”
“What, I can’t have a fucking conversation?” Nova held up his hands indignantly.
“He’s not bothering me,” Tabitha told the bartender. “He’s fine.”
“I like you, lady.” Nova nudged her arm. “What’s your name?”
“Tabitha.”
“Okay, Tabitha, so what’re you doing sitting here watching this bum win another fight?”
“I dunno.” Tabitha smiled up at the television, watching the after-fight footage from the UFC fight. She had been sitting there most of the afternoon, and now it was just replays and locker-room interviews, but she still enjoyed it. “Just remembering a dream, I guess. I’m a big fan.”
“Him.” Nova pointed at the TV once more. “The Deputy?”
“Yeah.” Tabitha nodded. “He’s amazing.”
“You gotta get out more.” Nova snorted. “He’s cheesy as hell.”
“He is,” Tabitha agreed with another laugh. “He’s silly. Totally crazy, but that’s always what I liked ’bout him. You want me to buy you a Coke?”
Nova shrugged. “Sure. My game doesn’t start for another hour.”
“What game you playing?”
“Poker.”
“Poker?” she repeated in disbelief. “What happened to football?”
“My ma’s sick. What kinda money do you think I’d make playing football? Unless I was betting on it, but you and me know that’s never a good bet. I like games I can win.”
“I’m sorry your mother’s sick,” Tabitha whispered softly.
“She’s gonna get better,” Nova said confidently. “I’m gonna pay for good doctors. Not these crackpot state doctors she’s forced to go to now. I’ve been researching her cancer. They got these new drugs that have a really high success rate. They’re testing them at the Sloan Kettering Cancer Center. I’m gonna get her there ’cause the doctors she’s got now are saying she’s only got a ten percent chance. That just can’t be right.”
“No,” Tabitha agreed and had to bite the inside of her cheek to stop herself from welling up. “It ain’t right at all.”
“But enough money, and I’ll get her the medicine she needs.” Nova sounded so determined Tabitha almost believed him.
“I’ll tell you what.” Tabitha reached down and picked up her purse. She opened it and pulled out her wallet. “I’m gonna give you something else besides buying you a Coke.”
“Like what?” Nova frowned, as if the idea was foreign to him.
Tabitha pulled out a hundred-dollar bill she had in an envelope for rent, knowing she really couldn’t afford to part with it now that she was living in New York. She had a job, but she didn’t make much. Her savings was almost gone, but some things were more important than security.
She handed it to Nova. “This is for you.”
“What the hell?” Nova took the money and looked at it in shock. “You’re just giving it to me for nothing?”
“Yup.” Tabitha nodded. “It’s yours. I want you to have it.”
“There’s gotta be a catch. There’s
always
a catch.”
“Not always,” she assured him. “There are heroes in the world, Nova. You just have to know how to look out for them.”
“I don’t believe in heroes,” Nova said with absolute conviction.
“But you should.” Tabitha smiled and looked up at the TV once more, seeing Wyatt being interviewed. “All children should believe in heroes. Even ones whose mamas are sick.”
“Man, this is really incredible.” Nova stared at the hundred-dollar bill in his hand with total awe. “Thank you. I’ll find a way to pay you back. If you give me your address, I can mail it to you once I find more poker games. You can just tell me. I’ll remember it.”
“You don’t have to.” She reached out and ruffled his dark hair. “It’s a gift.”
Nova nodded. “Okay.”
“Have fun playing poker.” Tabitha hopped off the stool and put her purse on her shoulder. “Stay out of trouble.”
“Lady, you don’t even know,” the bartender said as she started toward the door. “Trouble is Nova Moretti’s middle name.”
“Not from where I’m standing. He’s taking care of business. I get it.” Tabitha leaned into Nova and said, “I hope you win a million dollars playing poker.”
Then she walked up the street to her apartment and sat behind the old computer she’d bought because she thought the Internet was the easiest way to keep track of Wyatt and Clay’s fighting now that they were making national names for themselves.
Tabitha searched through the files until she found a word-processing program. She brought it up and stared at the screen for a little while. Writers needed good names, and Tabitha Conner wouldn’t work. If she did, that the whole world would know there was a real-life hero planted in Garnet. He was already famous, and that might be more exposure than he wanted if by some chance a publisher actually bought the book. Then, in a moment of brilliance, she simply reversed the spelling of Conner to be Rennoc so he’d still be there with her on the journey.
The Beginning, A Heroes of Sapphire County Novel by T.C. Rennoc
Tabitha sort of liked the sound of it. She liked the title too, and once she had those down, the first book was easy. She’d lived most of it. It was wild and fanciful, full of intimidating villains and even more powerful heroes, but it wasn’t fantasy to her. That was always how she saw Wyatt. He’d been a hero from the very beginning, and it made losing him less painful by reliving it again.
Her hopes weren’t high. Luck had never been her friend, but hell, at this point she would give the stories away if she had to. Like she’d told Nova down in the bar, all kids should believe in heroes.
Part Seven
The Eye of the Storm
Every fighter has a story that could break your heart.
We lose, we get hurt, and everything comes apart.
That’s when it’s so difficult to stay on the straight and narrow.
—Barry McGuigan
Chapter Twenty-Seven
July 2012
A beam of sunlight filtered in past the window and hit Tabitha’s hair in such a way that it lit up just like Wyatt remembered. The silky strands danced with every color from copper to gold, and he fingered them thoughtfully as Tabitha lay over his chest, sleeping deeply, as if she hadn’t had a decent moment’s rest since she left.
There was a strange collision of joy and agony that made his heart hurt. He knew he should slip out from beneath Tabitha, get dressed, and walk away, but just thinking about it was like asking Wyatt to stop breathing. He had loved Tabitha for as long as he could remember, and what people didn’t understand was that kind of connection didn’t just stop because he wanted it to.
There were plenty of easier women to love, but for some reason, fate had thrown them together. She was magnetic, and he was steel, and even the most malevolent forces couldn’t force them apart once she got near enough to touch.
He could hear his cell phone buzzing in his jeans that had been tossed so carelessly on the floor earlier. He would have ignored it if it weren’t the fourteenth time he heard it go off, and those were the times he was counting. As gently as possible, he reached over the side of the side of the bed and felt blindly for his jeans. When he found them, he struggled to pull his phone out of his pocket one-handed and then looked at the screen.
Jules
Missed Calls (16)
If that wasn’t bad enough, there was also a whole list of text messages from his sister that ended with the not so subtle,
If you have even an ounce of common sense and self-preservation, you’ll finally give her those divorce papers I know you’ve got stuffed in the back of your desk drawer.
That had actually been Wyatt’s plan when he’d left Hal’s Diner that morning after finding out Tabitha was back in town. He’d been determined to get some answers and discuss finally ending their ruse of a marriage, but the idea had seemed ridiculous in the face of actually seeing his wife again.
The next text confirmed his sister knew him better than he knew himself.
But we both know she makes you stupid. You’re probably curled up naked and daydreaming about happy endings and redheaded grandbabies.
He rolled his eyes, not for the first time cursing the powers that be that stuck him with a twin. He and Jules thought and acted alike more than either of them was willing to admit. It made very little difference that Jules was a woman. The reason she knew he was dumb for love was she was more than guilty of the exact same thing.
The past year taught them all that.
He was still pondering it when another message popped up, and he could almost hear the panicked desperation in Jules’s voice as he read it.
Please don’t let her hurt you again.
Wyatt held down the button until his phone turned off rather than acknowledge his sister, who had just put voice to his darkest fears and left him feeling open and exposed to the point that the pain in his chest doubled and his breathing fell shallow.