She was fascinated with the fire painting, and I bet that's where she is. That's my first stop. Sure enough, she's standing before the wall, staring at the flames. Quietly, I walk up behind her and clear my throat.
Ryan glances back, her eyes watery before they harden at the sight of me. She faces the painting again and in a harsh whisper, she tells me, “Go away.”
“Ryan,” I try. It kills me that she won't even look at me. I reach out, my fingers brushing her hips to bring her closer to me. The need to touch her and feel her is overwhelming now that she's right here. As soon as the tips of my fingers are on her, Ryan steps away to be out of my reach. The message is clear. She doesn't want me here with her. “I'm sorry. I should have-”
“It doesn't matter,” she interrupts. “I don't want to hear whatever you have to say. Leave me alone, Gabe.” With that last sentence, she doesn't sound angry anymore. It reminds me of when she asked me to leave before, and she only sounded tired.
“Will you let me-”
“No,” she curtly cuts me off, the anger flaring again with my attempt.
“Okay,” I relent as a terrible feeling of despair grasps me. “I'll go.” That's the last thing I want to do, but I won't force her to talk to me. Her shoulders relax slightly, just enough to make me realize that they were tense. “If you change your mind-”
“I won't.”
I ignore her and continue, “Call me. I'll be working, but we could talk when I get off. We need to talk, Ryan. I need you to talk to me.”
She doesn't acknowledge me anymore, and it breaks my heart. It hurts even worse to know that she loves me, I've inadvertently hurt her, and she doesn't know how I feel. She's not in the mood to talk to me. I have to respect that as much as I don't want to do so. Turning on my heels, I leave her behind, wondering how long I'm going to have to wait before she'll hear me out.
Chapter Fourteen
Ryan
There aren't many people here, thank goodness. Two lone tears, one on each side, run down my face. Just as I'm about to turn around, to give in to the plea in his voice, I hear Gabe walking away. Too late now. I'm not going to chase him, even if I'm dying to talk to him. He's leaving, and I'll let him go. I told him to anyway. This is okay, I think as I stare at the painting.
The bleak, black background is a stark contrast to the orange-reddish flames. I feel the battle between the flames as they try to stretch upwards, each lick of fire trying to reach farther than the other. The longer I look, the more I can feel the same battle against oneself inside me. This sucks. It's not making me feel better, so I turn to leave.
I can and will be fine without him. Part of me wants to fight to hold on to him, but I can't. I won't. My damn mind keeps replaying Gabe's silence. Over and over. If he had even an inkling of love for me, he would have immediately said something.
He didn't.
So, he doesn't.
Besides, I should be more focused on the disaster I call family. My parents call the following Sunday. The conversation is much longer than I wanted, but I get my way in the end. I can still hear the skepticism in their voices after I calmly explained why I wanted to major in art. My mother was thoroughly confused why I picked that. I'm pretty sure I scared them with my outburst, and she was genuinely trying to understand my decision.
After I told her, she seemed to accept it. Mostly. Their displeasure was apparent, but it all came down to one thing. If I was going to fail, then it might as well be because of me and only me. Then she said that if I changed my mind or if my grades slipped, they were cutting me off. They weren't going to waste money on my indecisiveness or laziness. Overall, the conversation was bullshit.
Nothing has changed. I don't even know if I want things to ever change. The way our relationship is right now is all I've ever known. It's a sucky one, but it doesn't have to change because it would either be for the better or for the worst. Hell, talking to my mom like normal was new, and I kind of hated it. Explaining it to her was torture because all it reminded me of was Gabe. He led me to the decision after all. Damn it. I miss him.
None of that matters, though. The only person I'm talking to is Viv. I told my parents I needed some space, so they've stopped calling for the mean time. And I'm still ignoring Gabe. He calls, leaves messages, but I don't listen to them. I can't. If I do, I'm scared it'll wear me down and I'll call him. My grudge against him is still there, and I'm still mad as hell over it. Right now, it's easier for me to stay pissed off than to face the music and listen to Gabe.
If I stop being angry, then it'll hit me that I bitched at Gabe and he might have been telling the truth. He could have been seconds away from standing up to his mother. I'll never really know because I spoke up first. He should have beaten me to it, but he didn't. Even if he was going to, I don't want to become a wedge between him and his family. His mother aside, Gabe has a wonderful family. They love each other to no end. I don't want to interfere with that.
No matter how many times Gabe calls, I don't answer. He calls at least once every day, and even a call to Viv here and there. I was with her the first time he called. She didn't tell him much, and after she hung up, I told her that if he calls again, she better not say anything more than I'm fine. Gabe doesn't get to know those things anymore. I almost want to give in because he calls her to check on me, but then again, that pisses me off too. If I wanted him to know, I would answer him myself.
For now, Viv is all I need, and I'm happy with that. Finals are coming up in a few weeks. Part of me wants to go party, get fucked, and forget about everything. I don't really want to do that, though. Besides, I need to make all A's, so the only thing I have time for is studying. I don't need my parents, Gabe, or that stupid four letter L-word on my mind to distract me.
Chapter Fifteen
Gabe
I never went shooting with the guys, and I've immersed myself in my work. My boss gets sick of seeing me at the station, finding paperwork to do. If my brain is numb with writing stuff down, then it'll be too tired to think about Ryan and her silence. I've tried calling Ryan multiple times, but she never answers. I don't even get to hear her phone ring and ring because she hits ignore, sending me straight to her voicemail. Maybe she just needs time to figure things out for herself. She's probably having to deal with lashing out at her parents too. Ryan doesn't need me adding to her problems.
Every day, I think about the night of her birthday. When she told me in false confidence that she loved me. I know that I have feelings for her, and I know the extent of those feelings. Not once did I tell her before Thanksgiving. I should have because now, she's dealing with what happened with us as well as her parents, and she doesn't know. What's worse is that she probably doesn't think I have feelings for her at all. I've tried to speak with her, but I have to wait until she's ready to talk to me. Whenever that will be. Every time she sends me to her automated voicemail, I want to run over there and demand she listen to me. I can't. So I'll keep calling, keep leaving messages, and wait until I can't wait anymore.
I make sure to work every Sunday to get out of going to dinner at my parents. I'm still not happy about Thanksgiving, and I haven't been talking to my mom that much. Of course, I'll be back soon enough, but for now, I just want to work as much as possible. Anything to keep me from being at home. Because when I'm at home, the thoughts of Ryan are so much worse. The memories of her birthday party, of the night it stormed and she didn't want to come inside, of the night we had sex in every room of my house, and of her smile when she saw I bought Sunkist for her.
She's everywhere.
When I patrol downtown and pass where we saw her on Halloween, I think about her stumbling down the street and me taking her home. Any time Fredrick says something inappropriate, I remember that night. I think about her every time I wash dishes. It's crazy! I'll end up washing the same dish for ten minutes because Thanksgiving replays in my mind as I picture her breaking down and throwing the glassware onto the floor. I saw her relax bit by bit with each thin
g she destroyed, but I stopped her anyway. All my memories of her play on a loop in my mind.
I want to see her and force her to talk to me. The main reason why I haven't is because I don't know what's going on with her parents. If things aren't going well, I want to be there for her, but I don't want to make things worse either. I've even called Viv a few times to check on Ryan. She only says that Ryan is fine, and she'll let her know that I called. I've done everything short of stalking over there.
“You're here early,” Fredrick says, taking a seat in the empty chair at the table in the break room, pulling me from my memories.
“There was some paperwork I needed to do.”
“You've been doing a lot of paperwork lately.”
“Are we going to work or not?” I snap.
He holds his hands up in surrender as I mutter an apology, and we head outside to leave. I don't know why she continues to ignore me, but I think it's time I stop doing as she wishes. Tomorrow, Ryan is going to talk to me because I can't let this go on any longer.
* * *
The sound of a gunshot rings loud in the air.
“You good?” I call out to Fredrick.
“Yeah,” he yells back.
The idiot shooting at us takes off running down the street. We got a call about a burglary in progress and came onto the scene while he was still here. I move from my spot behind the car and take off after him. I yell out for him to stop, but it's pointless. He rounds a corner about ten seconds before I do.
Two shots ring out, burning pain hitting me in the shoulder and knocking me down with surprise. His footsteps take off again and moments later, Fredrick is next to me. God, this hurts. The next few hours pass in a blur as I'm shipped off to the hospital, and they go to work on my shoulder.
When I wake up in a hospital room, I think about Ryan. I haven't spoken to her in two weeks. I miss her, and I want to talk to her. I want her. It's that simple. My shoulder aches, and I turn my head to see my mother asleep in the chair. A nurse enters the room, dragging my attention to her. She smiles when she sees I'm awake.
“How are you doing, Officer O'Connor?” She asks quietly.
“You tell me.”
“You're doing well. After some time to recover, you'll be good as new,” she tells me as she looks at the numbers on the monitor.
“What time is it?” I question.
“Almost four in the morning.”
“Gabriel?” At the sound of my mother's voice, I turn my head. She's sitting up in the chair with a blanket covering her lower body and a pillow has fallen behind her back.
“You didn't have to stay the night, Mom,” I tell her as the nurse leaves.
She gets up and walks over to me. “You're my son. Of course, I did. I, uh,” she hesitates. “I didn't know if I should get Fredrick to tell Ryan or not, so I told him not to until I talked to you to see what you wanted. I don't know what's been going.” A guilty look passes over her face, even though I'm the one who hasn't been talking to her.
“It's fine, Mom. I haven't spoken to her since Thanksgiving, so it's not like she's expecting to hear from me or anything.”
She nods. “You should get some rest.”
“Yeah, I guess so.”
Mom goes back to the chair, and I close my eyes, knowing I'm going to have to see my father and Owen in the morning. Mom probably sent everyone home. Her mentioning Ryan has me thinking about her again. All this time, I've known how she feels, or felt, about me, and I never told her my own feelings. Whether she wants to or not, she's going to talk to me. As soon as I can get out of here.
Chapter Sixteen
Ryan
A pounding lulls me out of sleep, and I realize someone is at my door. I glance at the clock and see that it's seven in the morning. Who the hell is here? Groaning, I roll over, get out of bed, and grab a scrunchie on my way to the door. I throw my hair up, the pounding louder now, and yank open the door.
“What the fuck do-” The words clog my throat as I see Camilla, Gabe's mother, standing outside my door. I stare at her, my heart frozen mid-beat. Why is she here? What does she want? Did Gabe send her to apologize or something?
“Morning, Ryan,” she says. “I'm sorry that it's so early. May I come inside?”
“Why?” I question with confusion. The words she said to me reappear in my mind full force, sparking my anger. “Would you like to look at all the things my parents have provided for their little, spoiled brat? I'm sorry, but it's way too early in the morning for personal tours.”
As I start to close my door, her hand shoots out to stop me. “Ryan, wait.”
Huffing, I open it again. “Honestly, Mrs. O'Connor, I don't want to hear what you have to say.”
“I think you do,” she says quietly, her eyes never wavering from my own. “May I come inside?” she repeats. Something about the way she said it makes me step aside.
I lead her to the kitchen table, thankful that during my study breaks, I've been in a cleaning frenzy. Camilla sits down and places her hands in her lap. For a moment, she doesn't say anything at all.
“Gabriel told me that you haven't been talking to him.”
Narrowing my eyes, I interrupt, “No, I haven't spoken to Gabriel.” It pisses me off that she says his first name like that, which is ridiculous.
“And it's no wonder. You're a hard person to apologize to.” My mouth opens, but she holds up her hand to stop me and keeps going. “I'm sorry, Ryan. Sometimes, I worry too much. Gabriel's relationships always end because he's too compliant, too willing to trust. He dated a girl once who was a few years younger than him, and she took advantage of him and his hard earned money.
“I made assumptions about you because of that, and I shouldn't have. My son told me to trust him, and I didn't. So I'm sorry about what happened. And so you know, after he brought you home, Gabriel came back and let me know how angry he was over I what I said. He did stand up for you.”
“He did? Right after he left here?” I question, and she nods.
Camilla lets that sink in. Gabe stood up for me. Before I can fully process this, she continues, “I didn't know until last night that Gabriel hasn't heard from you. You've been ignoring him, and he's been ignoring me.” Gabe hasn't been talking to his mother? “I came over to apologize and to let you know that he got hurt last night.”
“What?” I breathe what little air I have. Her final words steal all my breath from me. “He's been hurt? Is he okay? Where is he? What happened?”
She gives me a reassuring smile. “Gabriel will be fine. He was shot twice in the shoulder, and he'll need some time to heal, but he's okay. He's still at the hospital. Would you like to go back with me to see him?”
Gabe was shot? Oh, my God. My heart rams into my chest furiously. She said he was okay. That's what I keep repeating in my head as I nod to let her know I want to see him and I go change. I'm a wreck, and I'm rambling at an all time high as I worry. Two sentences are a calming mantra in my head.
He's okay. He's going to be fine.
I'll be fine once I see it for myself.
Chapter Seventeen
Gabe
I've just finished eating breakfast. My boss and Fredrick have already stopped by to see me as well as some others from the station. Mom peeks from around the door. Dad and Owen must be here now. I try to sit up a little more.
“Are you up for some company?” She asks.
“Absolutely.”
Mom disappears instead of walking in with my dad and Owen behind her, like I expect. Instead, Ryan hesitantly enters the room.
“Hey,” I greet. A smile instantly appears on my face. To say I'm thrilled that she's here in the same room as me doesn't even begin to cover it.
“Hey. Your mom came to my apartment this morning and told me you were hurt,” she explains, still standing by the door. Ryan clasps her hands together in front of her, and I realize that she's nervous.
“My mom went to your place?”
Ryan nods. “You didn'
t know?”
“No, I didn't.” Wow. I can't believe my mom personally went to Ryan's. But I'm so happy she did. Ryan is standing too faraway from me, so I add, “You don't have to stand way over there, you know.”
She seemed to be waiting to me to give her a sign that I wanted her here because she rushes over, the words spilling from her mouth.
“I'm so sorry, Gabe. I shouldn't have been so angry not to listen to you, to let you explain. With your parents and then my parents, I wanted some time to clear my head. I'm so sorry.”
“I love you,” I interrupt. I just want her to know, but it doesn't faze her rambling. By the far away look of terror in her eyes, she didn't even hear me.
“You have to understand that I was just upset. Ever since I met you, you opened my eyes to better things, to the possibility that I can have more, should have more, and I haven't been able to completely figure out what to do about that. Or how to fix things with you.”
“I love you,” I try again. She still doesn't hear my words.
“I've never wanted someone like this in my entire life. That scared me more than anything, and I'm so sorry. I-”
“Ryan,” I say as sternly as I can. She blinks, her eyes finally focusing on me. “Did you hear me?” Ryan shakes her head. “I told you, twice,” I add, laughter hinting in my tone. “That I love you,” I finally finish, grateful to have her undivided attention.
You Before Me Page 20
