**Completed** Colby Byers and Wyatt Matheson shared an enviable love-at least, until that fateful day. Torn apart by tragedy, the stubborn ex-lovers struggle to come to terms with their desire for one another, while reconciling their feelings with t...
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Colby
I sigh, releasing a breath that's been pent up in my lungs since Trey arrived at the party. Relief washes over me as Wyatt once again saves the day. I'd never be able to fully express my gratitude to Wyatt, the one person I can always count on to swoop in and save my poor decision making rear end. Heck, he has no clue he was starring as my own personal Superman tonight. And if he ever found out why I felt that way, I'm pretty sure Trey would wind up dead...
I feel stupid, damnable tears building behind my eyes as my mind reels. Sometimes I can't understand how this became my life.
First I lose my Gramps, and for the past few years, we've been dealing with my all-but-lost mama. Then there's Alex. I'm the only one in the family bearing the burden of what he's become. He's good at hiding who he is now when he visits home, but I know. We run with too many of the same people, and we shared a once close bond that's been severed as a result of his addictive habits.
Daddy's so busy anymore that I don't think he has any idea what goes on with us, but I'm sure it must hurt him as much as it does all of us. He just closes his eyes, pretending his family isn't falling apart at the seams. We keep up appearances, like any high society family, lying and faking our way to the epitome of financial success and civil esteem.
Rolling through the Taco Bell drive-thru, Wyatt orders without a word from me: two crispy tacos, a bean and cheese burrito, an order of nachos, and a large sweet tea— all mine. The boy knows I can put it away, and I find it sweet that he remembers all my favorite things.
He orders two dozen soft tacos for himself and my brother, and I feel fourteen again, arguing the merits of the crispy taco against the nastiness of the soft taco Wyatt and my brother prefer.
"Mmm..." I savor my first bite. I haven't had fast food in ages, what with friends who fear they'll gain pounds just by smelling the food from these restaurants. "Crunchy tacos for the win," I say around a mouthful of goodness.
"If the dollar menu is all it takes to please you, you must be a helluva good date," Alex says, snorting.
"Shut up," I snap. I'm sipping down some tea when my eyes meet Wyatt's in the rearview mirror.
He winks.
That brings a smile to my face. I know it wasn't flirtatious— he only wants to make me feel better. Like always.
....
"Thanks for bringing us home tonight, Wyatt," I say from the back of the car. Alex is still rambling some nonsense about losing a bet and streaking through his dorm. He doesn't seem to notice me talking over him.
"Don't worry about it," he says, his brow furrowed. "Your brother's a pig," he adds, chuckling. Alex is still talking.
When we pull up to the house, I climb out of the car and open Alex's door. He's pretend snoring. What are we, four?
"Alex, I know you're not asleep. Get up, we're home," I demand, completely out of patience for my brother's antics. He groans, but doesn't move.
"Come on, dumbass, get in the house," Wyatt says, yanking him out of the car.
Another groan.
"Just drag him," I tell Wyatt.
He smirks, dropping Alex to the ground. I can tell it knocked the wind out of him, but he doesn't seem to care much.
Wyatt and I take an arm apiece and heave him toward the front door. Alex grunts a few obscenities at us, but we ignore it. Good grief, he's heavy. I unlock the door and we drag him the rest of the way into the house.
"This'll do," I say. We've successfully dragged him into the foyer, and I let his arm fall to the ground. It hits the hardwood floor with a loud thud, and Wyatt follows my lead. I brush my hands off on my skirt, placing them on my hips. "I hope Daddy finds him like this in the morning." I nudge him in the rib with my foot, leaving a dusty shoe print on his shirt. He's out cold.
Wyatt and I stand there in silence for a few moments, staring at Alex. "You okay, B?" he asks, his voice quiet.
The tears are building up again, but I force a smile. "I'm fine. Just tired is all."
I'm sure he knows I'm lying, but he doesn't press it. "Alright. Have a good night," he says, taking a step toward the door.
"See you at church in the morning?" I ask as he walks out.
"I'll be there," he replies without turning back, raising his hand in goodbye.
