Oh man, you guys. Seriously, you're blowing me away with the amazing feedback. Thank you SO much. I really am happy that you're enjoying this.
I didn't intend for this part to be so long, but things tend to get away from me sometimes...
Note - I think we've seen the interior of Wyatt's bedroom? With articles about Jessica on the wall? If so, ignore that. I'm taking a little artistic license with his apartment.
Lucy's mind was swimming as Wyatt backed her car out of the spot and headed for the road. It didn't make sense. It just didn't make sense. She wracked her brain, trying to formulate some sort of explanation for the situation they'd found themselves in. Married was one thing; rearranging of the lives of adults who already existed was one thing. But... She squeezed her eyes shut, trying to block out the mental image of the car seat, even as she was still absently gripping the pacifier. It didn't make any sense.
Wyatt was clearly grappling with the same issue as he sped away down the long access road to Mason Industries. He was the one to finally break the tense silence a few moments later. "I don't understand," he mumbled, sounding far less self-assured than she'd ever heard him. "How could there be new people because of something we did in the past?
"I, I, I don't know," Lucy stammered, casting a nervous glance at him. "I mean, obviously people who should be here can be erased," she continued. Amy. "And other new people probably exist just because of who didn't die because of our changes," she reasoned. That could make sense. But not this one person in particular. "But I don't know how there could be a new..." she trailed off, not even wanting to put the whole mess into words. "How WE could have... created a new person without even being here!" she finally blurted, the floodgates now open. "We we didn't have sex!" she yelped. "We're not married! I've never been pregnant, I didn't give birth!" She felt her cheeks flame retroactively; references to being with Wyatt in that sense still not fully overridden by the other distressing aspects of the situation. "How does a new child exist like that?" she finished quietly, asking not Wyatt, but whatever it was that caused this to happen.
So obviously Wyatt had no answer for her rhetorical question as they finally reached an intersection with a main road. He stopped longer than would be necessary, given the lack of traffic. Lucy glanced over.
He was studying her pensively. "I guess she could be adopted?" he finally offered, not sounding convinced himself.
"Oh," Lucy exhaled. Oh. Right. Duh. "Yes," she replied numbly, chastising herself for not having realized that possibility. "That could work. Ok. Ok," she repeated in an attempt to calm herself down. "Adopted." She took a deep breath, finally realizing that Wyatt was also stopped because he had no where to go. "Take a right up there," she pointing, beginning the trek towards her mother's house. And Lena.
Somewhat calmed given the new assumption that they hadn't actually managed to procreate, but had simply ended up with a child that would have already existed anyway, Lucy managed to relax into her seat, indicating turns to Wyatt when necessary.
Until his next earth-shattering idea. "If we're... parents...", he hedged, shooting a glance in her direction, "wouldn't we have pictures? Check your phone."
"Oh," Lucy replied dumbly. Duh again. "Right," she muttered, fumbling for the phone in her lap.
She quickly tapped her way to the photo app. It only took the first image that popped up to cause her to let out a soft gasp as tears sprang to her eyes.
It was Wyatt, holding the child that had to be Lena. She was reaching for the camera with what appeared to be blue frosting smeared on her tiny hands and face. They were both sporting big smiles. Matching smiles. She dropped the pacifier, the now free hand coming up to absently cover her gaping mouth.
Flipping through other pictures only served to confirm what the first had shown. The smile, the big blue eyes... This wasn't some random child they'd adopted. She was practically a carbon copy of Wyatt.
Aside from the dark, nearly black, wispy curls that Lucy recognized from her own baby pictures.
She swiped through a few more, butterflies fluttering in her stomach as, even through the blurry film of emotional tears, she could make out the image of herself, mid-kiss with Wyatt, and Lena between them, smiling and reaching her chubby hands up to their cheeks.
She jumped when Wyatt's voice finally broke the silence again. "So?"
"You're right," she confirmed in a numb whisper. "There are pictures. Of us. Of everything. We..." Her voice cracked as she fought to finish, "have a daughter. Go left," she added automatically.
Wyatt obeyed, making the turn, but remained silent.
Lucy scrolled through a few more pictures. In a hushed voice, she elaborated "...she looks like you."
That earned a practically comical double take. "She," Wyatt stuttered, "uh, what?"
"She looks like you," Lucy repeated, landing on yet another image that confirmed that words she was saying. "I don't know how," she admitted as she swiped at a stray tear that had managed to escape.
When Wyatt still didn't respond, she cast a wary glance in his direction. He looked as stoic as ever, but the tension in his jaw gave away that he was just as unnerved as she was.
"Left up there," Lucy indicated a few moments later. "Third house on the left."
Wyatt pulled up in front of the house, turned the car off, and then just sat a moment, making no move to get out, nor even to look at her. Finally, with a sigh, he turned to her. "So what's the plan?"
"I, I don't know," Lucy muttered. "I mean..." She glanced over to the house as if she'd find an answer there, only to see her mother pulling back the living room curtain to wave at them. "Oh, hi, there's my mom." She gave a weak wave back, "Yeah, hi, mom." She groaned, turning back to Wyatt. "We can't just sit out here now, she saw us. We have to go in."
Wyatt's eyebrows show up. "We?"
Like she was dealing with this alone... "We're apparently a two for one deal in this timeline, aren't we?" Lucy chastised. "She'll probably think it's weird if you don't."
To his credit, Wyatt nodded in acquiescence, climbed out of the car, and dutifully followed her up to the front door.
And that was the last moment in which they had any illusion of anything resembling normal for them. The door flew open to reveal her mother, who pulled her inside for a hug immediately. "Hi, honey, how was the work trip?" she inquired. She didn't even wait for an answer, pushing Lucy away to pull a dumbfounded-looking Wyatt in for a hug of his own.
"Oh, uh great," Lucy spat out stiltedly, not able to really process the odd juxtaposition of her mother and Wyatt hugging. "How are you?"
"Oh, you know I love grandma time," her mom gushed, releasing Wyatt. "I put her down for bed about an hour ago, but she'll probably sleep through getting her into the carseat."
It took Lucy a moment to register what her mother was even talking about. Right. The kid. "Sure, ok," she nodded belatedly, casting a helpless glance at Wyatt for backup. "Right?"
"Yeah, good," Wyatt mumbled.
Luckily, her mother seemed oblivious to any awkwardness as she headed up the stairs, explaining. "I'll go pack up her bag and bring her down."
As soon as she'd disappeared at the top of the stairs, Wyatt hissed in Lucy's ear. "What the hell are we doing?"
"I don't know!" she snapped, keeping her voice hushed. "It's one thing to avoid this marriage thing by staying here if it's just me. I can't stay here now; we're supposed to be one big happy family."
"Do you know how to take care of a kid?" he shot back, eyes wide, "'Cause I sure as hell don't know how to take care of a kid!"
"No! I mean, I tried to help with Amy," she added, "but I was only seven when she was a baby! We have to just... figure it out," she finished with a helpless shrug.
"I'm not doing diap-"
Lucy cut off his protest with an elbow to the ribs as she saw her mother begin to descend the stairs. "Shhh."
She froze, dumbfounded, as the small child in her mom's arms came into view. It was one thing to see pictures on a phone. It was entirely another to see the living, breathing thing in person.
And suddenly, there she was, being pushed into Lucy's arms as her mother whispered, "There's mommy and daddy..."
"Oh, ok, hi..." Lucy stammered, caught off-guard by the sudden armful of ...baby? ...toddler? She wasn't even sure what this size little person counted as. She shot a helpless glance at Wyatt behind her as she awkwardly hefted Lena to what she hoped was a better hold.
Luckily her mother wasn't paying attention to Lucy's less-than-graceful handling of Lena, but was instead directing Wyatt. "Wyatt, I left the diaper bag at the top of the stairs."
Lucy caught his eyes go wide for a split second, but again to his credit, he slipped into the 'dad' role relatively quickly. With a slight nod, he replied, Right. Got it," and was headed up the stairs.
Which left just the three generations of females. At a loss for what else to do, Lucy shot her mom a shaky smile, just hoping that Lena stayed asleep. She wasn't sure she was ready to deal with her while she was sleeping, never mind awake and possibly crying.
Wyatt returned a few second later, clutching a pale green totebag. "Bag," he stated, pointing out the obvious.
Lucy's mother smirked and gently made another suggestion. "There's half a bottle and two opened jars of food in the fridge, you might as well grab that too."
"Uh, ok," he replied, heading hesitantly towards the back of the house. Lucy tried to subtly direct him to the right. She knew he wouldn't automatically know where anything was, and in this timeline he should.
He was gone for a few minutes, probably longer than he should have been.
When he finally returned, Lucy couldn't deny that her heart did a little flip flop at the sight of Master Sergeant Wyatt Logan juggling not only the pastel diaper bag, but a bottle, a handful of Gerber jars, and also a fuzzy bear, alphabet blanket, and some sort of other baby toy contraption. "These too?"
Lucy's mother nodded, and plucked the items from his hands to help put them into the bag. Once everything was situated, the three adults were left standing there awkwardly.
"Uh, we should go?" Lucy spoke up hesitantly.
Wyatt cleared his throat, nodded, and moved for the door.
"We'll talk later this week?" Lucy's mother asked.
"Sure," Lucy nodded, clutching Lena tightly as she stepped out the door. "Bye, mom."
And finally the door shut behind them, leaving Wyatt, Lucy, and Lena alone on the porch.
"And then there were three," Wyatt mumbled. Lucy caught his gaze as he turned to look at her, probably really taking in the presence of... their daughter... for the first time. He took a deep breath as he studied them, before offering, "So to my place?"
Lucy bit her lip, looking down at Lena. "Our place, apparently," she agreed.
She followed him down to the car, where he graciously pulled open the back passenger seat for her. Lucy peered in. The carseat was strapped into the middle, and there was no way it wasn't going to be awkward to place Lena in it, never mind while trying to not wake her. So Lucy slid herself into the adjacent seat, facing backwards, and carefully pulled the seat's straps out of the way before settling the child into the seat.
And even in the midst of whatever the insanity surrounding them was, she couldn't help but feel herself smirk. Wyatt had already rounded the car and slid into the driver's seat, but she poked his shoulder and gestured for him to come to the back seat. "Hey, captain seatbelt. Time to try carseat straps."
He smirked right back in appreciation of the mild humor.
Lucy was grateful that he caught her drift and pulled open the back driver's side door to sit himself next to Lena, mirroring Lucy's position. He eyed the straps for a moment, and Lucy took the opportunity to really take in Lena in person. Her impossibly tiny little fingernails, rosy round cheeks, perfect little mouth... How was she here?
Just as he'd been in the lifeboat, Wyatt was quickly able to finagle the carseat straps into what appeared to be the correct, secure arrangement.
"I think that's right," he declared, but made no move to get back to the front seat.
After a moment, he spoke up again quietly. "You think she looks like me?"
Lucy felt a smile take over her face. It seemed she wasn't the only one in the car entranced by the little person they'd found themselves faced with. "The eyes," she confirmed softly with a nod. "She has your eyes. In the pictures, you can see. Blue."
When he didn't immediately respond, she bit her lip, blushing in the dim light of the car, worried she'd just revealed too much about what she might be feeling about Wyatt and his eyes.
She couldn't deny that her breath caught in her throat when he responded in a murmur, "Your hair."
She felt her cheeks flush hotter at the fact that he'd notice her hair, and she didn't dare look over, lest her rapidly growing inappropriate feelings give themselves away any more than they already were.
"We should go," she replied, proud of herself for managing a level voice. "I kind of just want this day to be over with."
So they extricated themselves from their clumsy backwards positions in the backseat, sliding back into the front and getting on their way.
A few red lights later, while they sat waiting for green, Lucy caught a glimpse out of the corner of her eye as Wyatt toyed with the other keys attached to hers as they dangled from the steering column. She looked at him questioningly.
He looked over at her, gesturing to the keys. "I think it's the exact same key. If it is, to my actual place, she must be in the office. You can take my room. I'll take the couch."
Lucy forced herself to ignore the missed opportunity to share a bed with him for the second time, focusing rather on the issue of where they might be going. She thinks for a split second that he could check his driver's license. But then the sobering thought hits her that she could just check hers. They live together, after all.
She reached for where her wallet had fallen on the floor, and she fished out the license quickly.
Lucy Logan.
Her stomach clenched. Even having been mentally prepared to find Wyatt's address, she'd managed to forget she could have his name.
She looked up to find Wyatt eyeing her curiously, so she pulled herself together and managed to rattle off the address on her license.
Wyatt's stoic nod confirmed that it was indeed his place.
A few moments of silence later and the car rolled to a stop in the parking lot of a nondescript, modern apartment complex.
Neither of them moved.
Lucy didn't know how long they'd sat there, avoiding each other and the situation, when a small gurgle from the backseat jarred them both out of their stupor.
She looked over at Wyatt as he glanced back at the still-slumbering Lena. Her own anxiety must have been plainly written across her face, for when he turned back to her, he nudged her knee with his hand, some sort of attempt to be comforting. "We can go to Mason tomorrow and figure this out. It'll be ok," he assured her, not that he sounded particularly convincing.
Lucy nodded with a nervous gulp as she looked back at Lena. Taking a deep breath, she nodded at her. "I'll get her if you take the bag."
Wyatt agreed, and rather quickly, the trio was making their way into the apartment. He ushered Lucy and Lena in first, following them as he pulled the door shut behind them.
"This is..." he started, flipping on the closest light switch. "...not what it normally looks like," he finished, voice laced with confusion. "What the hell?"
Lucy scanned the room. A decent-sized living room, with an open kitchen and small dining area, and a hallway that she assumed led to a bathroom and bedrooms. But everything was in disarray, with cardboard boxes scattered about, some full, some not. "Are we... moving?" she wondered aloud.
Wyatt wandered around among the boxes, clearly befuddled. "I don't kn-" He stopped short, and Lucy felt his gaze on her as she shifted Lena's weight in her arms. "Here," he sighed, beckoning to her from across the room, "let's see what the bedroom and office look like."
Lucy nodded, stepping around boxes to follow him to the hallway at the far side of the living room.
At the first doorway in the hall, Wyatt nodded towards it. "This was my office." And reaching past the door frame, he flipped on the lights, revealing a small, pale green room replete with teddy bear and balloon wallpaper on one wall, crib, and rocking chair. "Ok, well at least that makes some sort of sense," he mumbled.
Grateful for that, Lucy made her way across the room, only stopping to look down at Lena once they had reached the crib. She was dressed in some sort of footed onesie, which made sense for baby pajamas, but over it was a hooded zip-up sweatshirt. Even in the absence of any parenting experience, Lucy figured that the hoodie should probably come off. But how?
"Wyatt," she whispered over her should, "help me get this shirt off her."
He dutifully came right over, but once there, looked just as perplexed as she felt by the prospect of getting sleeping baby arms out of the garment. He hesitantly reached out to unzip the shirt as Lucy shifted Lena in her arms for better access. Following that, he gingerly tried to tug one of the sleeves off, and he was nearly successful. One arm came out, but as he tried to free the second, the sleeping Lena decided to clutch the fabric of the sleeve's wrist. He set his jaw and went to work prying her little fingers open. But that resulted in the baby grasping tightly to his finger instead. His eyes widened with slight panic, and he looked over Lena's head at Lucy. She shrugged helplessly.
A few breaths later, Wyatt appeared to relax, and his thumb absently stroked Lena's little fingers until she too relaxed and lessened her grip on him.
Released, Wyatt quickly removed the last of the sweatshirt, and Lucy carefully set the little girl down on her back in the crib.
"And that's it?" Wyatt asked from behind Lucy, peering down over her shoulder. "We leave her there?"
"I guess..." Lucy breathed, the gravity of the situation sinking in once again now that Lena had been dealt with. She scanned the contents of the room as if the answer to all of their problems might somehow be sitting on a dresser or changing table. It wasn't, but she did manage to recognize what looked like a walkie talkie set. "Oh, baby monitor." Grabbing the smaller of the two, she tried flipping one of the switches on it. A red light glowed to life on both. Casting one last glance at the crib, she gestured for Wyatt to follow her out of the room as she flicked off the light.
But then there was the living room. Still very much in disarray. "So you said this is not normal?" she asked, needed to start some sort of conversation somewhere.
"Uh, no," Wyatt confirmed. "Some stuff looks right, but I..." he trailed off with a wave of his hand. "And that looks like packing, not unpacking."
Lucy nodded, agreeing. "Well, it makes sense, at this stage, people would probably be looking for a house. More space for a kid..." And there certainly was evidence of a kid, of Lena scattered all about the apartment. She scanned the boxes, the furniture... A bookshelf, still not fully packed up, caught her eye.
Behind her, she heard Wyatt state, "I think I need a drink."
As she scanned the bookshelf, full of titles like "What to Expect When You're Expecting" and framed photos of the three of them - including, what was that? Yeah, a wedding photo. Lucy squeezed her eyes closed before she ended up studying that too closely. Taking a shaky breath, she forced herself to look back to the shelf with books. "Baby's First Year" Not much better... "I second that," she called over to Wyatt.
But her curiosity got the better of her, and she plucked the book from the shelf before heading over to where Wyatt sat at the small dining table, already downing his first drink.
Lucy flopped unceremoniously into the chair across from him, dropping the book in front of her.
Wyatt nudged a second glass towards her, already refilling his own. "Cheers," he said flatly, before downing a second shot.
Without hesitation, Lucy did the same, downing her glass and relishing the burn as the alcohol slid down her throat.
"What's that?" Wyatt asked, his voice gravelly.
She reached out, sliding the book back closer to her. "Her- Lena's," she corrected, "baby album." Halfheartedly, she flipped open to the first page, reading aloud, "Eleanor Susannah Logan." She eyed the birthdate inscription, quickly doing the simple math. "She's... thirteen months old now." Skimming back up to the name, a smile of recognition crept onto her face. "Eleanor Roosevelt," she said wistfully, running her finger over the name of one of her childhood heroines, "that's from me."
Wyatt's voice broke through her contemplative moment. "Susannah was my mom's name."
Lucy's gaze shot up to meet his. "Was?"
"It's ok," Wyatt shook his head, deflecting. But he reached for the book. "Can I see?"
Lucy slid it across the table, watching him as he began to flip through.
He smirked up at her. "8 pounds 10 ounces? Ouch."
She flushed, but rolled her eyes. "Don't look at me. Time travel, the easy way to avoid labor and delivery."
Wyatt was silent for a few moments, still studying the book.
"We didn't miss our anniversary," he said, looking up to Lucy. "Next month. Five years."
Lucy's stomach flipflopped at the new reference to their supposed marriage. But how did he know? She furrowed her brow quizzically.
Without needing her to articulate the question, he explained, "The 'mommy and daddy' page."
That phrase did nothing to stop the butterflies in her stomach. Lucy barely managed a short "Ah" of acknowledgement.
"We met at work, apparently," he continued, reading the page's hand-written narrative.
Curiosity beat out the butterflies. "But... five, six years ago," Lucy asked, confused, "weren't you off fighting wherever?"
He nodded, adding grimly, "Still managed to marry Jessica."
And the butterflies were dead. Jessica. "Right," Lucy replied. "Is... Is it just the same dates as her, but with..."
"You?" Wyatt finished. "No," he explained. "It's different. She was before... I don't know. I... We need to go back to Mason tomorrow and get the full story. They must have all our information if we're still on the Flynn project, right?"
He looked so damn hopeful. Lucy nodded, agreeing shakily. "I hope so."
Wyatt turned back to the book, flipping through what looked to Lucy like a slew of baby pictures. She was curious as well, but the weight of the day was closing in on her quickly, and exhaustion taking over. A yawn threatened, and though she tried, she wasn't successful in stifling it.
It caught Wyatt's attention. He glanced over his shoulder at the kitchen, asking "Are you... hungry? Or just want to sleep?"
Lucy offered a want smile. "Uh, no. I was, but I think..." she trailed off, shrugging, "this all kind of wiped me out. Not really hungry anymore."
He nodded in response, and picked up his glass once more, downing the rest of the contents. "You can have the bed. I'll take the..." He paused, and Lucy followed his gaze to where the would-be couch sat wrapped in thick plastic, the cushions stacked in a bag beside it, and stacks of boxes strewn across the frame. "Uh, floor," he finished stiltedly.
Lucy squeezed her eyes shut, mentally forcing herself to forget Jessica, to forget Arkansas, to forget the they were supposedly a couple who'd already had a child. Be practical. She opened her eyes, drawing her gaze to him. "Is your bed bigger than the one in 1934?"
He looked back warily. "Yeah."
"Then we can just share."
He studied her for a moment, before acquiescing, "Ok." And with that, he got up, heading back down the hallway without a word. Lucy followed, clutching the baby monitor. They passed Lena's room, they passed a bathroom, until a third door frame. Wyatt stepped in and turned on the lights. Lucy let out a soft gasp. Though she'd noticed some of her things among the mess in the living room, only now was it truly obvious that they were really meant to be a couple, their lives and belongings integrated. She could see her favorite sheets on the bed, the jewelry box from her grandmother on the dresser, a bunch of her shoes piled in the corner by the closet, a framed photo of her mother - holding Lena - hanging on the wall.
She was at a loss for how to proceed, and given that Wyatt hadn't really moved next to her either, she figured he was pretty taken aback as well. The last time he'd have shared a room, it would have been Jessica's stuff, not hers.
Eventually exhaustion won out. If she really lived here now, her pajamas should be in the dresser. Sleep would hopefully a be reprieve from everything the last few hours had brought on. So she slipped quietly across the room, heading for the bedside table that appeared to be hers - some earrings and a favorite novel sitting atop it. She set down the baby monitor and turned for the dresser. Opening the drawer she'd normally have pajamas in, she was relieved to see familiar things. Lucy grabbed the first shirt and shorts she saw, and turned back to Wyatt, who still hovered near the door. She clutched the clothes to her chest and gestured back towards the bathroom. "I'll just..."
He nodded dumbly in response as she slipped past him.
She changed quickly in the bathroom, even going so far as to splash cold water on her face in the naive hope that somehow it would wake her from this bizarre, bizarre dream.
It didn't work.
So she went through the motions of her normal night routine, still unsettled to find so many of her recognizable belongings mixed in among Wyatt's in a home that wasn't hers. But eventually there was nothing else she could do to avoid going back into the bedroom and facing him. And the bed they had to share.
So she gathered her things and slipped back into the bedroom.
The lights were off save for the lamp next to his side of the bed. She couldn't tell if he was asleep or not; he was on his back on his side of the bed, eyes closed. She took the opportunity to study him for a second. He'd shed some clothes, but had kept his white undershirt on, leaving him looking much as he did back in Arkansas. Even given the circumstances, the fleeting thought that she'd prefer him with the shirt off still managed to flicker in the back of her mind. But she pushed that away, dropped her clothes on a chair by the closet, and crept closer to her side of the bed.
She peeled back the covers gingerly so as to not wake Wyatt, only to have him eye her through lidded eyes. "I'm not asleep."
"Oh, right." Still taking care, she slid between the covers. "You can turn the light off."
As he turned to do so, Lucy couldn't help but notice the stark difference from 1934. There's she'd felt every move, every breath, there in that twin bed. Here, with both of them clinging to the edges of the queen-sized mattress, you could fit another three people between them. She missed 1934.
The lamp flicked off, and she felt him still across the mattress. But sleep didn't come. And by the sound of it, he hadn't fallen asleep either.
In a low voice, on the off chance she was mistaken, Lucy whispered, "I'm sorry, Wyatt. I know this isn't what you would ever have wanted to come back to."
He took so long to respond that Lucy thought he actually had fallen asleep. But then came a sigh, and "It's not your fault."
"I know but... this? Me? A baby?" She turned towards him, barely able to make out his profile in the darkness. "There's getting Jessica back or even moving on, but this is suddenly having a whole new life dumped in your lap."
She could see him do the same, turning toward her. "I'm guessing this wasn't what you were expecting when you signed up either," he challenged.
Lucy could hardly deny that. "Not exactly," she admitted.
He didn't add anything else, and she could see him roll onto his back once more.
It was a few moments later, sleep finally starting to win Lucy over, that she heard him speak again. "...we never lived here."
In her sleepy daze, Lucy wasn't clear on what he meant. "Hmm?"
"Jessica. I moved here after..." Wyatt trailed off, the rest of the sentence not really necessary. "You're not just taking her place or something," he added.
Why he'd chosen to tell her that, Lucy wasn't sure. But she couldn't deny that it made her feel a little better to know that she wasn't just filling Jessica's space in the apartment, in the bed. But she felt she had to acknowledge his admission somehow, so she forced out a soft "Oh."
It was another beat or so, but he did speak up one more time, this time with a lighter, teasing tone, even if it did sound a little forced. "We could do worse, right... babydoll?"
Lucy let herself smile at the reference. But she couldn't quite bring herself to voice her expected response, the 'sweetheart' not willing to make its way to her lips. Could she do worse? What was worse that this - this bizarre torture of suddenly finding yourself married to the object of your burgeoning affections, sharing a child no less, all while said object was still mourning his beloved wife, who now suddenly had even existed? All while her own sister had never existed either.
She squeezed her eyes shut, willing sleep to come before she could think too hard about it and bring herself to tears.
It was some hours later when Lucy found herself blinking in the darkness, disoriented. It was the red glow of the baby monitor's power light that brought it rushing all back. But she certainly wasn't precariously clinging to the edge of the bed, a wide expanse of mattress separating her from Wyatt. His warm, solid body was pressed to the length of her back, their legs and feet tangled, his breath tickling her ear, and one of his hands snaked up under her shirt, resting on her abdomen dangerously close to brushing against the underside of her breast. She winced. In another world, another lifetime, she could allow herself to enjoy waking up to him like this. But while Jessica may never have lived here, never slept in this bed, she was certainly in Wyatt's heart and head.
As carefully as she could, she wriggled out from Wyatt's embrace, escaping back to the edge of the bed, willing sleep to take over again.
TBC...