by Hart, Hanna
“I don’t know, are you seeing anybody?” he asked.
“I feel like this is has suddenly become a super unfair conversation,” she said coyly. “I am not expected to share without getting something in return, right?”
“Of course not,” he smirked. “But you still have to answer the question.”
“Am I seeing anyone? Not really.”
“Not really, or no?” he pressed, feeling sicker by the minute.
“N…” she began and then stopped to think on it. “No.”
“Well, I’m convinced,” he snorted and then gestured to her phone, obviously referencing the man she was in a photo with from weeks earlier. “That blond guy? He a colleague?”
Willow was amused. She sensed his jealousy, no doubt. She had the slightest smile on her face, and her brown eyes went warm as she stared into his soul. She shook her head, and Ryder said, “Come on, tell me it’s Richard.”
“It’s not Richard,” she said.
“A friend?” he asked. “Some source for a story that you were trying to butter up?”
Willow’s eyes went skyward, and her cheeks began to pinken. He could see the lengths of her lashes were so long, they were nearly touching her eyebrows.
“Don’t tell me that’s your boyfriend,” he teased as he pressed a soppy finger against her phone, only to reveal a lock screen.
“Give me that,” she said, taking the phone away from him and throwing it to the furniture a few feet away from the hot tub where their towels were. “Yes, he was my boyfriend, okay? But he’s not anymore.”
“Wow,” Ryder breathed, recalling the age of the man. “Daddy issues.”
“No, not daddy issues!” she laughed reluctantly. “Just an older gentleman that was a great guy.”
“What happened there?” he asked.
“Ah,” she waved him off and buried herself to her shoulders in the warm, bubbling water.
“Ah?” he repeated. “You’re my fake wife, for goodness sakes. I think you know enough dirt about me to warrant an answer to my question.”
Willow dipped the back of her head into the water so that all of her hair grew wet. As she lifted her head back up, he could already see the natural curl starting to come through.
She inhaled a breath and moved over to his side of the hot tub. She sat pressed up against him and hoisted her legs over his lap, putting her arm out over the side of the tub for leverage.
“He went back to his wife,” she said sharply over the thundering bubbles.
Ryder blinked in surprise and nodded slowly. “Ah,” was all he said.
“I didn’t know he was still married,” she said quickly. “I mean, I knew he was married, but they were living in separate places. He didn’t think they were going to reconcile.”
“But they did,” he surmised.
“Yeah,” she said, pushing air out her mouth until her lips made a noise. “I guess what I really didn’t know was that he even wanted to. Reconcile, I mean. But, it’s nice.”
“It is?”
“I mean, a marriage didn’t fall apart. That’s supposed to be a nice thing, right?” she laughed. “I don’t know. I guess we weren’t meant for each other.” She shrugged. “It happens.”
“Happened with us,” he said, and she met his eyes.
The two continued to talk about her life, working her way up from an intern to making headlines in the paper and Richard’s determination to make her a success. She talked about her parents and how they had moved from the mainland down to Buffalo to take advantage of the cheaper rent and in order to be closer to her.
By the time the last night came, Ryder was dreading going home. Not because of the immensely long plane ride, but because he didn’t want his time with her to end. He didn’t want to go back to catering to his parents’ careers or listening to his brother prattle on about what a failure Ryder had become.
He didn’t want to see Miranda’s face.
He just wanted to stay in the winter lodge and talk to Willow forever.
On their last night, after Willow went to sleep, Ryder took his familiar spot on the pull-out couch and read next to the firelight for over an hour before getting ready to go to sleep.
Nights were intensely dark in the mountains. Once he turned off the lights, he couldn’t see anything out the windows. It was somewhat unnerving but mostly peaceful.
Once his head hit the pillow behind him, and the dim, dying firelight began to flicker out, he heard Willow’s footsteps down the hall.
“Hey, Ry?” she whispered into the air.
Ryder sat up on the couch and watched the way the light behind her lit up her silhouette.
“Yeah?” he said.
Willow stood frozen in the hallway before flicking off the hallway light and walking over to him in the darkness. She locked eyes with him as she set a hand on his shoulder and used it to balance herself as she scrambled into his bed. She leaned her head into the crook of his neck and set a hand against his bare chest.
He wanted to ask if she was okay, but it was this very moment that he remembered how powerful silence could be with Willow. If this girl wasn’t speaking, it meant she was feeling something so deep it couldn’t be explained.
Ryder pulled her closer to him and pulled the covers up over their bodies. They lay in silence, and he watched the embers in the fireplace spark and glow, trying to come back to life.
Willow was quiet and her breath was so loud, he wondered if she fell asleep. Then suddenly she whispered, “Ry?”
“Yeah?” he asked again.
“What really happened with Miranda?”
He stared into the fiery void, eyes so fixated on the shades of orange and yellow and black that they refused to blink. He had wondered about the answer to that question so many times, he’d lost count.
“What really happened was…” he trailed off, curling his finger around a loose lock of her hair. “I didn’t love her.”
“Ever?”
He shook his head slowly and for some reason felt his throat get tight. “I don’t know,” he admitted in a whisper. “Maybe not the way a husband is supposed to love his wife.”
Willow nodded against his chest but didn’t look at him.
“Do you hate her?” she asked.
“No,” he said, and that was the truth. “I don’t like what she’s done to my family. But, to be honest, I don’t think I deserved her.”
Willow stiffened at that sentiment but didn’t respond. She pushed her hand firmly against his chest and craned her head back to look at him. “Why do you think Ashton said he thought we would get back together?”
Ryder scratched along the bridge of his nose and shrugged. “Why does Ashton say anything?”
“Does he know… what happened with us?”
Now it was Ryder’s turn to stiffen. “No,” he said.
“Neither do I,” Willow said pensively, pressing her head back to his chest.
Ryder felt surprised by this. He knew their breakup wasn’t the most mature ending possible, but he had no idea she was clueless about the reasons why their relationship ended.
“I thought it was pretty clear it was over,” he said. “The way we left things off.”
Screaming at each other in the living room of his apartment in New York City. It came back to him in flashes and memories. Strange sensations of dread and sickness mixed with the smell of her back then. Sugary perfume and the furious look of disappointment as she stormed out of his apartment.
“I didn’t know it was,” she said, almost defensively.
“Hm,” was all Ryder could say to that. They had been having such a pleasant time together in France; he didn’t want to go back to that night.
He wasn’t ready yet.
“I guess Ashton said that,” he said, turning that conversation back around, “because he knew what a hard time I had getting over you. You were the…” he trailed off.
“I was the what?” she asked.
Ryder looked down at her an
d tried desperately not to kiss her. Her lips were so inviting, and he was so… happy, for once.
“You were the love of my life, Willow. You know that.” Ryder swallowed nervously, hoping she couldn’t hear his speeding heartbeat. “But, you broke me.”
Willow nodded. “You broke me, too.”
Willow spent the rest of the night in Ryder's arms. She was so warm and fit so perfectly in the crook of his neck that he never wanted her to leave. Right then and there, he knew she would always be more to him that a first girlfriend or a heartbreak. They were meant to be together.
She had been what he was waiting for all this time.
Ryder had been with Miranda for about six years, twice the amount of time he was with Willow, but it was Willow that he couldn't let go of. This fact made him long for her and hate her all at the same time. What made his breakup with Willow even more earth-shattering was the fact that Willow didn't seem to miss a beat at all.
He didn't speak to Willow, ever, after their breakup. Until now, obviously. But he'd heard from friends that while he ran back to the mainland for familiarity and switched schools, Willow stayed put in New York City. He saw photos of her online out partying with friends, exploring different landmarks and hiking trails, and kissing various guys in the weeks following their breakup. It was like he never existed in her life.
It was a strange thing, to be with someone for such a short period of time only to have it shape you and set your expectations for the rest of your life.
In fact, it was terrifying.
But now here she was, Willow, back in his life.
This honeymoon had been the beginning of something. It was so powerful, Ryder had nearly forgotten the painful twenty-four-hour flight he would have to endure in the morning.
Chapter Twelve
Willow
Willow was awoken by the most intoxicating scent known to man.
Coffee.
Back on Nani Makai, the first thing France was wonderful, but switching to and from the twelve-hour time difference was absolutely killing her. She liked to pretend that the ridiculously long plane ride back would have her body and mind so confused and exhausted by the time she got home that she would somehow beat jetlag. But, this never happened.
She could smell the strong brew permeate the lavish guest room in Ryder’s suite and she immediately opened her eyes.
“I smell heaven,” she grumbled out through her froggy tone.
“Nope, still just coffee,” Ryder laughed, bringing an oversized clear glass mug to her bedside. “It’s time to get up.”
“I could sleep all day,” she mused tiredly, taking the cup from him and offering the man her thanks in the form of a big thumbs up as she sipped.
“Correction,” he laughed, “You have been sleeping all day. It’s two-thirty. Time to get up.”
Willow smiled and shook her head, setting the cup on the nightstand and pulling Ryder into bed.
“No, let’s go back to bed and live on France time forever,” she whined.
“We can’t,” he laughed, pulling her into his arms so they were snuggled in the bed, she under the covers and he overtop of them. “My parents want us to go to a press conference. It’s for the election, but they’re hoping reporters will want to ask some questions about our honeymoon.”
“There will definitely be a plant in there from Richard,” she said groggily. “So that’s good. I think. Unless he uses this as an opportunity to embarrass me publicly.”
“Do you know that the more I hear about Richard, the more I actually like the guy?”
Willow laughed and lightly smacked Ryder on the chest. “Shh,” she giggled. “Laughing prevents sleeping from happening.”
“Come on!” he said cheerfully, tickling her sides until she practically thrust herself off the bed in self-defense. “Up, up, up!”
“You sound like my mother,” she snorted.
Ryder chased her across the room and caught her by the waist. He picked her up and spun her around, prompting a girlish giggle to escape her lips against her will.
“Okay, okay!” she laughed. “I’m getting ready.”
Willow looked through the closet and brushed her fingers along the lavish dresses she had somehow had the chance to acquire. Some were new, from France, while others were a collection of vintage gowns and second-hand store finds that were about as expensive as a case of soda.
She began to hesitate around a bright blue dress with neon green detailing until she heard Ryder go, “Ah-ah!”
“Shh,” she hushed with a smile. “I’ll wear something appropriate, don’t worry. I think by now I’ve learned how not to embarrass your parents.”
“You’d think that,” he said.
Willow turned to face him, setting both her hands on her hips. She was going to scold him for lecturing her fashion choices—she couldn’t help it! She just loved the way bright colors looked against her tan skin—but the true sight of him in the daylight had her feeling breathless.
He wore a deep blue suit, white shirt, and a white and navy polka dot tie. His thick hair was freshly cut and his eyes absolutely beamed.
“You look handsome,” she said.
“Just giving you something to aspire to,” he winked, and she spun back around.
Stupid handsome jerk.
Willow finally decided on a sophisticated white jumpsuit that plunged at the neckline. She wore a lace coverup underneath. There was a white fabric tie in the middle of the jumpsuit that hugged her waist and accentuated her thick hips. Usually, she tried to make herself look at straight up and down as possible, but in more recent days, she just didn’t care anymore.
She was always going to have thick hips and strong legs, so why fight against it?
Willow shut the sliding closet door and sprayed some dry shampoo into her hair, carefully brushing the sandy spray out until it was no longer visible. She flat-ironed her long bob into a crisp point and fussed with her bangs until they looked mod enough for a fashion show.
She slapped on several thick coats of mascara until her lashes felt so heavy she knew one or two would be broken by the time she washed her face at the end of the night.
Willow did a runway spin when she walked back out into the bedroom, and Ryder clapped.
“That was surprisingly fast,” he said. “Bravo.”
“And how do I look?”
“You look,” he began, but trailed off, licking the corner of his lips. “Very sexy.”
“Whoa!” she stifled a laugh. “Then I’ve way outdone myself! I was hoping for like a ‘pretty’ or ‘meh. Passable!’ But sexy? Yeah, I’ll take that.”
“Do you know that you babble a lot?”
Willow shrugged. “It’s part of my charm.”
“Is it?” he winked.
And just like that, the two of them set off for the conference. Ryder lowered his hand down to the small of her back as they walked out the front doors and she began to wonder if he was doing it for show or for something else.
There wasn’t much more need to wonder as they stood backstage at the conference.
The event was held in a smaller banquet room at Crystal Beach Resorts. The navy blue, marble, and wood rooms were perfectly beachy and yet still luxurious and upscale.
Ryder stood in the wings next to the stage with Willow as his father got patted down with powder puffs of mattifying makeup and his mother was in deep conversation with Tag’s campaign manager.
“I had fun skiing with you,” Ryder said, coming up behind Willow and looping his arms through hers so that both of his hands rested on her stomach.
“Me too,” she said, turning her head to look at him.
“I always have fun with you,” he said. “I forgot that.”
“Stick with me, kid, and you’ll never be bored,” she giggled in a whisper.
“Remember that time you wanted to get into the shore house down on the beach. You left your purse in there?” Ryder whispered, resting his chin in the crook of her neck and
sending a spine-tingling sensation through her body as he hit a nerve.
“Mm-hm,” she said slowly.
“Remember you threw a brick through the window and unlatched the door?” he said with a seductive tone that barely matched his words. He moved his hand along her stomach and pulled her closer. “What did you call that again?”
Willow blushed furiously. She offered him a demure smile and said, “Key to the city.”
“Key to the city,” he repeated with amusement. “You were amazing.”
“I was such an idiot,” she admitted. “That was not something I should have done.”
“No, I loved it,” he protested. “You were always… different.”
“Yeah, different crazy, not different ‘awe-inspiring,’” she said, quoting him back from when they were still dating.
“I didn’t mean that,” he said, loosening his grip and turning her to face him. He held her hands in his, and she felt pointedly uncomfortable, especially when she noticed his mother was watching them. “I was angry.”
“Ah,” she waved him off. “I’m just busting your uh—” she paused and smirked as she noticed Sheila’s brows shoot up. “I’m just teasing,” Willow lamented.
“I never found anyone else like you, Willow,” he said.
“I know that must have been devastating for you,” she said.
“It was,” Ryder smiled, but it wasn’t his usual grumpy or sardonic expression. He looked enamored. “Did you ever think about me?” he asked.
“Of course,” she nodded, trying to keep things casual, but then felt embarrassed. “Sorry,” she laughed. “Was I supposed to say that? I feel like I was supposed to play hard to get just now.”
“I like ‘of course’ much better than playing hard to get,” he said.
“Did you ever think about me?” she asked, not sure if she wanted to know the answer. Because, if the answer was yes, it opened up a whole new world of opportunities for her and she wasn’t sure if she could be trusted with Ryder’s heart.
“All the time,” he smiled. “Do you want to know a secret?”
“Always,” she said.
“When my parents told me they asked you to be my wife, I was furious.”
