His eyebrows pinch together. His eyes grow soft, and his expression is worried. A hint of pain flashes through his eyes. “I’m here now,” he reminds me. “Let’s talk now.”
I stare back at him, my expression giving nothing away. I want to talk to him and tell him everything, but I can’t. Not right now. Not like this.
“Please let go of me,” I plead quietly, but my voice is stern.
He slowly releases my hand in defeat.
“It’s late,” I tell him, breaking eye contact and turning towards the door. “I need to get to bed.”
“Lydia, wait.” He quickly rises to his feet. With one hand on the doorknob, I turn my head towards him. “Let me know when we can talk, okay?” he asks, desperation evident in his voice. He jams his hands in his pockets and watches me, waiting for a response.
“Goodnight, Ryder,” I sigh, turning back to the door. I can feel his eyes on me. I quietly open it and ease back inside, slowly closing the door. For the first time since I’ve been here, I lock it. My feet are stuck in place as I stare straight ahead, my focus directed at nothing. My head hurts too much to even think. Exhaustion sets in from the long day and my mind grows blank.
I will myself to move, letting my feet carry me to the bed. I climb inside and nestle under the covers. My eyes fall shut, and I succumb to the sleep that my mind craves.
chapter twelve
RYDER
IT’S BEEN THREE DAYS.
Three whole fucking days and not a single word from her.
After I left that night, I didn’t know what to do about any of this. I fucked up by forgetting to meet her. My goddamn emotions got the best of me after seeing her with that kid. I have to find out what she wanted to talk about. I will find out, one way or another.
I won’t push her, though.
She’ll tell me when she’s ready.
I END UP AT THE BAR later that evening. Sitting around waiting for Lydia to call has been driving me mad. I needed to get out of the house and have a change in scenery.
I wade through the sea of people and make my way to the bar.
“Well, look who’s back again,” the bartender announces as I take a seat on one of the stools. I glance down at her name tag: Shannon. I’m pretty sure she was here the other night. “Just couldn’t stay away, could ya?” She flashes her white teeth at me.
I’m not here for you, I think to myself.
“Yeah, I figured if I’m gonna drink, might as well do it publicly.” I don’t take the bait to her question. We’re not going home together tonight. Or any other night, for that matter.
Either she didn’t notice my lack of interest in her or she just doesn’t care. She leans slightly on the bar, just enough to show some cleavage.
“What’s your poison?” she purrs.
“Bourbon,” I tell her. “On the rocks.”
“Ooh, a bourbon man,” she winks. “I like it.”
No shit, Goldilocks. That’s what I always drink.
She pours my drink, setting it in front of me. I pull out my phone in an effort for her to leave me alone.
She doesn’t.
“Rough day today?” she asks, leaning against the bar.
I look up at her, closing my phone. I’m not a total asshole.
“You could say that,” I tell her.
Her face lights up when I respond. “Wanna talk about it?”
No, you’re not my fucking therapist. I groan inwardly.
Someone calls to her from the end of the bar. She walks away before I get a chance to respond. I reach for the glass of alcohol, bringing it to my lips. I take a long drink and feel a sharp fingernail jab into my shoulder.
“You.” I turn to my right as Cara sits down on the seat next to me. She narrows her eyes at me, giving me a disgusted look. “You dumbass motherfucker,” she slurs, jabbing me again.
“What the hell, Cara?” My eyebrows pinch together, and I glare at her.
“Don’t ‘what the hell’ me,” she fiercely says, pointing her finger in my face. “Buy me a drink. We need to have a talk.”
What is it with everyone wanting to talk?
As if on cue, Shannon walks back over. Her eyes fill with confusion as they move back and forth between Cara and I. I drain my glass, and she points to it when I set it down. I nod at her. I need another for this. “Get the girl a water, too,” I add in a clipped tone. She gets us each our drinks and moves away from us.
“A water?” Cara groans. “Really?”
“Yes, really.” I look at her, meeting her bloodshot eyes. “You’re fucking trashed.”
“You’re such a buzzkill,” she mumbles, but takes a drink of her water. “Number one,” she holds up one finger, “you’re an asshole. Number two,” she holds up a second finger, “you’re an asshole. And number three,” she holds up the third finger, “you’re an assho–.”
“Okay, we get it,” I cut her off. “I’m an asshole.” I sigh, shaking my head in resignation. I take a drink, waiting for her next blow.
“Stop being such a pussy,” she scoffs, shooting daggers at me with her eyes.
I quickly turn my head back at her. “Excuse me?”
“You know she’s not going to call you. You fucked that one up when you didn’t show.” Now she’s shaking her head at me.
“So, that’s what this is about?” I run my hands over my face. “You think I don’t already know that?” I lie. I have been waiting, thinking she would call me.
“Why didn’t you?” Her voice isn’t as harsh now. “She came here, just to talk to you, and yet, you don’t give her the opportunity to say what she needs to say. Why didn’t you show?” she questions me.
I run my hands over my face. There’s no point in lying to her. “I saw her with her kid,” I tell her. “I wasn’t expecting it and I freaked.”
“Are you fucking kidding me?” she lashes out, raising her voice. “God, you’re such an idiot.” I stand up, pulling out my wallet and laying cash on the bar. “What are you doing?” she asks.
“Look,” I start, “if you’re going to sit here and tell me how much of a piece of shit I am, which I already know, I’m gonna head out.”
“Wait,” she reaches out, grabbing my arm, “don’t go.” Her voice is pleading, and her eyes grow softer. “I don’t like seeing her hurting, especially when it has to do with you.”
I sit back down. “I’m not trying to hurt her, okay? I’ve been trying to give her some space and wait for her to call me. I figured she would when she was ready.”
“You have no idea what she went through after she left,” she sighs. “Or what it even took for her to come back here.”
“You’re right,” I tell her in a clipped tone, “I have no idea, because no one ever told me. She left without a single word. She’s been gone for two fucking years. And now she’s back. And has a kid. Am I not supposed to be a little fucked up from all of this?”
“If you truly care, you need to put your feelings and shit aside. Go to her. Hear what she has to say. Give her the closure that she deserves.”
I mull over her words.
Closure. Can I give her that?
I nod at her, standing back up. “Okay.”
“I don’t mean right now. She’s probably in bed anyway. Plus, I need a drinking buddy,” she adds.
“I don’t think either of us need anymore to drink,” I chuckle. We’ve never been close, but have always gotten along. And I know sometimes she takes drinking a little too far. “What are you doing here alone anyways? Shouldn’t you be home with Pierce?”
“We got into a fight,” she shrugs. “I couldn’t be there right now and didn’t know what to do. So, here I am,” she throws her hands up. “He’s always right, ya know? And it’s so infuriating. And then I don’t want to let him know that he’s right.” As she finishes her sentence, her phone lights up. I see Pierce’s name come up. “Speak of the Devil,” she mutters, ignoring his call.
“What happened?” I ask her. I’m not good a
t this shit, but I feel compelled to ask.
She shakes her head. “It’s so stupid. I feel bad moving here and leaving Lydia. He thinks it’s time to let her make her own decisions and start her own life.” She pauses. “I know he’s right. But I don’t want her to feel abandoned.”
So, she’s really not staying here.
“Come on,” I command, rising to my feet and pulling her up with me.
“Huh?” She half stumbles.
“It’s time to go home.” I pull her along with me, not giving her a chance to respond. Reluctantly, she lets me lead her out of the bar and towards my car. She opens her mouth to object.
“Don’t,” I warn her, opening the passenger door. “There’s no way that you’re driving right now.”
She nods and climbs into the car. I walk around and get into the driver’s seat, starting the car. We pull out onto the road, and she’s snoring within five minutes. I pull into their driveway and park in front of the house. Every light is on and Pierce rushes out the door as I put the car in park. I get out as he walks over towards me.
“I found her at the bar. She’s passed out,” I tell him, opening the passenger door. He quickly walks over, unstrapping the seatbelt and pulling her into his arms. She groans as he lifts her out of the car.
He stops for a second and nods at me. “Thanks, Ryder.”
I nod in return, getting back into my car while Pierce walks her into the house. Slowly pulling back onto the road, I make my way back home. Moving mindlessly on autopilot, I replay Cara’s words until I end up in bed, finally bringing my thoughts to conclusion.
Fuck waiting to hear from her.
Tomorrow, I’m going to her.
chapter thirteen
LYDIA
“ARE YOU SURE THAT IT’S okay if he stays here?” I motion towards Trent sitting on the floor, playing with his toys.
“Of course,” Griffin smiles. “Go,” he urges, “you need some time to yourself. He’ll be perfectly fine here. Right, buddy?” He asks Trent. He looks up at us, nodding his head eagerly while giving me a toothy grin. I’m not used to leaving him except to go to work. Since he was born, it’s been me and him. I live for that little boy.
“Okay,” I agree, reluctantly. “Call me if anything happens or if you need me.”
“Lydia,” Griffin all but pushes me towards the door, “go. Enjoy yourself. We will be fine. One of my guys will be with you too.”
I nod and quickly scoot away from him and away from the door. Bending down, I plant a kiss on Trent’s soft hair. “Be good and I love you. Mommy will be back soon, okay?” He stands up and wraps his arms around me.
“Love you.” His words aren’t clear, but I know what he’s saying. I give him another kiss and he releases me, going back to his toys. I stand back up and take a deep breath. Griffin stands in the doorway with his arms crossed.
“Okay, okay,” I put up my hands, “I’m going.”
I walk out the door before I have a chance to change my mind. The sun shines brightly from the clear blue sky, warming my skin. A warm breeze carries the smell of saltwater and sand through the air, blowing wisps of hair across my face. I look up at the sky, closing my eyes against the sunlight. I smile to myself, taking a deep breath, drawing the fresh air into my lungs.
Today is going to be a good day.
I DRIVE INTO TOWN and find a parking spot on the street by the spa. People walk along the sidewalks, window shopping and perusing the town. I get out of the car and slip two quarters into the meter. A memory suddenly strikes me. The last time I was here, I saw him. I glance around in a panic, expecting to see his face in the crowds. My heart pounds in my chest, and my breathing becomes frantic.
“Hey. You okay?”
I spin around and almost run into Cara. “Uh, y-yeah,” I stutter, glancing around again. “I’m sorry.”
She pushes her sunglasses up onto her head, squinting her eyes at me. “Are you sure you’re okay?”
I nod, willing my heart to settle and my breathing to slow down. “I’m sure. It was nothing,” I tell her.
She let’s it go and smiles. “Let’s get inside. We have some much needed manis and pedis calling our names.”
“Let’s do it,” I say, returning her smile. She opens the door to the spa, walking ahead of me. I pause for a moment, looking around once more, just to be sure. Unfamiliar faces pass by, leaving no threat. I turn back around and follow her into the spa.
WE SPEND MOST OF THE MORNING getting a manicure and a pedicure. We grab lunch at the cafe down the street before parting ways. She hugs me tightly with a promise of seeing each other soon. We kept our conversation light throughout the day, shying away from heavy topics. Griffin and Cara were both right. I did need this. But now, I’m ready to get back to Trent. I’ve become naturally overprotective. But could you really be too overprotective?
I drive out of town and back to Griffin’s house. An unfamiliar car sits in the driveway. I didn’t know that he was expecting anyone while I was gone. Instantly, my mind takes me to dark places, expecting the worst. I go to jump out of the car, but hold myself back. I need to calm down. Taking deep breaths, I try to get myself under control and to ease the panic I’m beginning to feel. After a few minutes pass, I calmly get out of the car and go into the house. I hear Trent’s laughter coming from the living room and the sounds of his cars that he’s playing with. I walk down the hallway and stop in the doorway. I look into the living room, and I’m frozen in place. Trent spots me and comes running. But my attention is drawn elsewhere. His eyes meet mine, watching me from across the room.
My throat constricts.
I can’t breathe.
I can’t think.
I can’t talk.
What is he doing here?
chapter fourteen
RYDER
AFTER SPENDING THE NIGHT tossing and turning, I finally awaken to daylight. All I could think about was today. This might be my only chance to talk to her. I don’t even know if she’s going to want to see me. But I do know that I cannot fuck this up.
I get out of bed and get showered and dressed in record time. I glance at the clock as I come out of the bathroom. It’s only nine o’clock. Shit. I don’t want to wait. I don’t know if I can wait. I make my way downstairs and into the kitchen. I sit down with a bowl of cereal and stare into space as my milk grows warm and the cereal grows soggy. My stomach is in knots as a nervous feeling sets in. There’s no way I can eat right now. I dump out the bowl and rinse it in the sink.
Like an animal in a cage, I start to pace around the house. Through the kitchen, dining room, living room, and repeat. I wring my hands and wrack my brain for things I can do to pass the time. I’ve decided to wait until the afternoon, at least after lunch, and then I would go to her. I stop again in the kitchen and pull my phone from my pocket.
Should I text her?
Or call her?
Do I just show up unannounced?
Fuck. I am more nervous than I thought.
I glance at the time on my phone. 9:54am.
These next few hours are going to feel like years.
I WAIT UNTIL TWO O’CLOCK and decide it’s time. If I wait any longer, it might kill me. I’ve waited long enough. I practically run to my car and jump in like my ass is on fire. I naturally have a heavy foot, but today, it is even worse. Thankfully, I make it to Griffin’s house without wrapping my car around a tree or getting stopped by a cop. When I pull up to his house, his car isn’t in the driveway. For a brief moment, I feel relieved. I was hoping he wouldn’t be here so we could talk privately.
I walk to the front door and stare at it. Taking a few deep breaths, I ring the doorbell. I wipe my sweaty palms across the front of my jeans. It’s a warm day, but I’m sweating as if I’m sitting in a sauna with a winter coat on. The door slowly opens, but it isn’t who I was expecting.
“What’s up?” Griffin stands in the doorway. “I didn’t know you were stopping by.”
“Um,” I stammer
, “yeah. I was hoping I could talk to Lydia.”
He looks me up and down, his eyes are narrowed and calculated. When they meet mine, they slowly soften. “She’s out right now, but you can hang out until she gets here.” He steps out of the way, motioning for me to come into the house.
“Thanks,” I mutter nervously, stepping into the house and following him into the living room. I hear him before I see him. Lydia’s son. He sits on the floor, pushing little toy cars around. For a moment, I feel knots in my stomach again. I didn’t factor him into this equation. I didn’t even give it a second thought that he would be here. He looks up at me and stares at me with his clear blue eyes.
“Trent,” Griffin tells him, “this is my friend Ryder.”
I crouch down to his level, surprising myself. “Hi, Trent,” I smile at him.
“Hi,” he says quietly. His lips curl upwards and he gives me a toothy grin. His smile is contagious. I feel mine growing wider. I stand back up, looking over at Griffin. He’s watching us with a mixed expression on his face. I stand there awkwardly, watching the little boy play with his cars.
“I need to make a phone call real quick,” Griffin says. “You good?” he asks me. I look between him and the kid, feeling even more awkward.
“Uh, sure,” I reply, but my voice sounds more like a question.
“Don’t be weird,” he rolls his eyes as he pulls out his phone. “He doesn’t bite.” He brings the phone up to his ear and walks through the sliding glass door onto the back porch. I stare at the kid for a few minutes, unsure of what to do next. I sit down on the floor across from him, with the cars separating us. He looks up and studies me. I feel uncomfortable under his gaze.
“Your Uncle Griffin went outside for a minute,” I tell him. My voice is uneasy, but I try to keep it soft. His eyes linger for a moment before he smiles again. He grabs a small red car and reaches out, handing it to me. I take it from his small hand and set it down on the floor. I start to push it around, making sounds of an engine. Before I know it, I’m crawling around on my hands and knees, pushing the cars around while his infectious laugh fills the room.
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