A week passed. Wyatt never came to visit her, not even when she was discharged from the hospital.
Sloan ignored the messages and calls from Harper Kemp, choosing instead to return alone
to the Grant estate.
As soon as she stepped inside, the sound of carefree laughter echoed through the house. Carol was running around barefoot in Sloan’s pajamas.
Wyatt followed behind her, holding a pair of matching slippers. “Carol, stop running
1/2
around. Come here and put these on. You’ll catch a cold”
“No.” Carol pouted like a spoiled child. “Carry me! I want piggy back!”
Without hesitation, she wrapped her arms around his neck and hooked her legs around his waist, her fingers teasing the back of his hair.
Wyatt’s jaw tightened, but instead of pushing her away, he carried her effortlessly to the dining table, setting her down. His expression softened as he brushed his thumb across the tip of her nose. “Stop being difficult, or I’m going to punish you. You’re not a kid anymore, Carol,”
The two of them were so wrapped up in each other that they didn’t notice Sloan standing by the floor–to–ceiling window. She clenched the door handle, forcing down the hurt rising in her chest. Then, with a calm expression, she punched in the code and walked inside.
Hearing the door open, Wyatt instinctively pushed Carol away.
“Sloan… You’re out of the hospital?” His smile was tight. “Why didn’t you tell me?” Maybe it was guilt, but Wyatt immediately started explaining. “This is Carol. She is my mom’s goddaughter. You’ve met her before. She just got back in town yesterday and needed a place to stay for a few days. About the pajamas-*
“It’s fine. Just fabric,” Sloan cut him off. Without waiting for a reaction, she turned and headed upstairs.
If she was going to leave, she needed to cut all ties–wipe out every trace of him from her life.
Upstairs, Sloan began rummaging through her closet, gathering all the gifts Wyatt had ever given her–bracelets, handwritten notes, clothes and tossing them into a cardboard box. Wyatt panicked at the sight of her packing. His voice trembled. “Sloan, I’m sorry. I know I screwed up. I didn’t know Carol took your pajamas–I’ll tell her to leave right now if that’s what you want! You can yell at me, punish me the way you want but just don’t leave me!”
