How much tragedy does it take before someone snaps?
Raised by the president of the Rogue Dogs Motorcycle Club, who just happens to be her uncle, had given Teresa-James O'Dell a tough skin. She didn't waste her time with the gossiping girls who saw...
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26 years old
Wyatt had managed to convince Oliver, Jillian and Marty to come to the city for my birthday. A month of keeping me all to himself, and he was finally willing to share. I would have argued that I didn't want to make a fuss out of my birthday. It was another year that had come and gone. When I saw the faces of all my friends waiting for us at the restaurant, I had to fight off the urge to cry.
Jillian was the first to get up from the table. She wiggled through the packed dining room until she could embrace me. A month had passed and I was in desperate need for my best friend. Both of them. Two weeks had been a tease. Getting so used to seeing them, my family and their baby girl had made coming back to the city that much harder. To see them now was like stepping out of my car all over again.
There was a round of hugs after Jilian had taken Wyatt's place at my side. She had all but stolen me away from him, and he didn't seem to care. I glanced at him from over my shoulder and found him smiling like mad. Clearly proud of his little surprise. After he pulled out my chair for me, he took the seat between me and Marty. Jillian was on my right with her husband on her other side.
My friend was showing me photos on her phone before the waitress could take our drink order. Oliver, Marty and Wyatt were discussing something about the last sports game. I felt forgotten as the conversation switched to the club. Jillian was asking me how work was going and if I had anything packed yet. I was about to tell her I had a few things boxed up, but hadn't made a dent when Wyatt's hand landed on my thigh. The way this man could read my mind was a blessing.
The meal turned into a hoard of wait staff singing to me. The tall sparkler candle sizzled over the piece of cheesecake. Jillian stole the strawberry while the chorus sang to our table and took a bite. Wyatt's fingers curled around mine on my lap. When the song ended, he leaned in and planted a kiss on my cheek while telling me to make a wish.
I couldn't think of anything that wasn't already happening. I was leaving a job where I was drowning. Starting my own firm that would take on cases that mattered. Living with the only man I've ever loved in a few short months. The two things I still hadn't gotten weren't in my control. No birthday wish was going to change it either.
The old man had gotten worse, which they said would happen. Hospice care had officially become part of the daily routine. Wyatt and Lucinda were both giving me updates. He was onto his fourth caretaker, scaring them away with his rude manners and careless words. Lucinda was at her wits end with it all. Wyatt on the other hand tried to be a buffer when he could. Stepping in so the latest nurse could step out for an hour or two. Wishing that it wasn't happening wouldn't be fair, and the heavenly power my grandfather admitted to never losing faith in was in charge of his fate.
The only other thing I wanted more than keeping my grandfather around, was last seen back at Wyatt's apartment. That little diamond ring that he flaunted. Since he had told me he had it, let me see the family heirloom in that velvet box, I kept trying to picture it on my finger. When I saw it was still bare, my heart sank. He said he was waiting for the right moment. Maybe tonight would be it. Maybe this would prove that the birthday gods, or whatever, were listening.
