I See You

PROLOGUE - Five Years Ago

The knock on the door was an announcement rather than a request, which let Wyatt know exactly who was walking in when the screen slammed shut behind his best friend.

"Hey Mike, I'm in the kitchen," he called out.

Mike walked in and set a six pack of Pabst on the island, perspiration dripping down the cans in the anomalous August weather. Washington state wasn't known for harsh summers, but this one seemed to creep up from the south, suffocating the entire west coast in a heat wave. Wyatt guessed that was the reason for his buddy's constipated expression and current silence.

"Couldn't wait to see me, huh?" he teased.

"Wyatt, man, we need to talk."

"Well shit," he grunted, giving him another look before pushing up from the floor. There was always a repair to be made to this old house, and today, it was a leaky pipe under the sink. "Are you okay? What's wrong?"

"I'm good. Nothing like that. We just, well I need to tell you something, and it'd be easier if we could sit and talk over a beer or two."

"Couldn't wait until we were out on the water tomorrow?"

"Honestly, I didn't feel right about fishing until I got this off my chest. Better we not be out in the middle of nowhere."

"Alright, man. You got me kind of worried," Wyatt scowled, taking a seat at the table.

Mike pulled two beers off the pack and handed one over, popping his open and taking a long swallow before looking back at Wyatt.

"You remember when I went out to Seattle about five months ago?"

"Yeah, quietest three weeks of my life," Wyatt chuckled. "Don't tell me they've asked you to go back. Oh shit, you're not moving, are you?"

"No," he said quietly. "I ran into Lisa when I was out there."

The silence was thick, and Wyatt had no idea where this was going. Lisa had been his childhood sweetheart and later his wife, but she surprised him with a divorce a little over a year ago. That's how he ended up in a two-story, fixer-upper all on his own. Was she getting married? Was she sick? He was still mad as hell, but he also had unresolved feelings there. Part of him hoped she was miserable and regretted ever leaving him. A smaller part, buried deep down, hoped she would come back.

"And?" Wyatt prodded.

"It was always the three of us in high school. Girls came and went in my life, but we were all thick as thieves. She was always my friend."

"For fuck's sake. Is she okay? Spit it out," he growled anxiously.

"We um, we're getting married, Wyatt."

Blood rushed in his ears, a rising drumbeat clanging in his chest, until he did the only thing that made any sense. Wyatt burst out laughing.

"Man, that is the most fucked up joke ever," he hooted, clinking his can against Mike's. "How about you not give me a freaking heart attack over here."

Mike just sat, quietly observing his best friend, his eyes filled with concern and guilt. It was the latter that stopped Wyatt's laughter. He could see the shame alongside the resolve.

"It's not a joke, Wyatt. I'm so sorry, man. It wasn't ever supposed to happen. We grabbed dinner for old time's sake. Then one thing led to another, and we've been doing the long-distance thing for the last five months. I love her."

"I...five months...but," Wyatt stuttered, quickly doing the math in his head. The divorce was finalized fourteen months and eight days ago. In his mind, the ink was barely dry. "You can't do this."