Chapter 6 - Recovery and Revelations
Back at the hospital, the forty-eight-hour observation period ended with good news. The contractions had stopped, baby Maya’s vitals were strong, and the medical team cleared me to return home—provided I had round-the-clock assistance and absolute peace.
The problem was, I didn't have a home anymore. The bank had initiated foreclosure proceedings on the suburban house, and even if it hadn't, the thought of walking back into those rooms haunted by David’s shadow made my stomach turn.
As I packed my small overnight bag, a soft knock sounded at the door.
It was Wyatt, holding a bouquet of bright yellow daisies and a folded piece of yellow legal pad paper.
“Hope I’m not intruding,” Wyatt said, ducking slightly to clear the doorframe.
“Not at all, Wyatt. Please come in,” I smiled, genuinely touched by his kindness.
He set the flowers on the side table and handed me the paper. “My sister runs a quiet bed-and-breakfast up near the Hudson Valley. It’s closed for the off-season, but the main apartment is fully furnished, safe, and completely secluded. No reporters, no corporate debt collectors, and no bad memories.”
I looked from the paper to Wyatt’s weathered, kind face. “I couldn't possibly impose on you like that. I need to find an apartment, figure out legal aid—”
“Stop right there,” Wyatt interrupted gently, holding up a calloused hand. “You’ve got enough battles to fight right now. My sister knows your situation. She’s a social worker who spent twenty years helping women rebuild their lives. You’re family as far as we’re concerned.”
May you like
Tears prickled behind my eyes. For two years, I had lived with a man who calculated every favor, weighed every cost, and used love as a transaction. To experience such pure, unselfish kindness from a man I had met only days ago over a fourteen-dollar blanket felt overwhelming.
“Thank you, Wyatt,” I whispered, wiping a tear from my cheek. “I accept.”
