“Dean stopped by today.”
“Nick told me. Said he sprayed gravel everywhere when he left, too.” She stopped herself before apologizing for it. Dean’s behavior wasn’t her problem.
“He wasn’t happy.”
“He’s probably embarrassed and doesn’t want to feel like he owes you.”
“You never told him.”
It took a few seconds for his words to sink in, and when they did, she caught herself clenching the phone in her fingers. “You told him?”
It shouldn’t matter. She and Dean had been divorced for eight years, but she felt guilty for not having told him at the time. She should have let him know. What Ryan had done was wrong, plain and simple, and Dean had a right to know.
But there was some guilt because she’d thought about Ryan—started playing the what-if game—while still married to Dean. When things were tough, she’d think about that day and imagine saying yes. She’d picture their home and the big backyard for Nick, and she’d imagine Ryan holding her in bed instead of belching and falling asleep like her husband. It was safe and harmless—just a stupid fantasy—but the fact she hadn’t told Dean made it feel worse than it was.
“I assumed he knew, so I misunderstood what his problem was and, yeah, I told him.”
“Did Nick hear?” It would explain why he’d been so quiet in the car.
“I’m pretty sure he didn’t. I told him Dean was angry I wouldn’t take his money, which wasn’t totally a lie, though he was probably more angry I tried to steal his wife.”
Hearing him say it like that, so flat out, made her cheeks hot, and she was glad he was on the other end of the phone line and couldn’t see her. “Why did you?”
“I told you why.” His voice had softened and the timbre of it didn’t help cool her face any. “He didn’t treat you right.”
“He was young. We both were and obviously stupid, since we never meant for me to get pregnant. He wanted to try to go to college eventually and make something of himself. Instead he got a baby and a wife and a factory job while you went off to school.”
“And he resented me for it and, even worse, he resented you. He was a miserable son of a bitch and he took it out on you.”
Lauren rubbed the bridge of her nose. “You’re not being totally fair. He wasn’t a bad guy, Ryan.”
“He didn’t love you.”
And you did? She didn’t say it out loud, because she didn’t want to know the answer. “Did he tell you that?”
“He didn’t have to.”
She’d like to think Ryan was wrong and that, at some point, the man she’d had a child with and married had loved her, even if it hadn’t lasted forever. “There’s no point in talking about this. But I appreciate you letting me know Dean was upset.”
“There was a point,” he said. “Since he left, something’s been bugging me and I have to know why you never told him.”
“I don’t know.” It was the truth, really. “I kept putting it off because I knew he’d be mad, and I wasn’t sure if he’d think I’d led you on or something. And you kept not coming back, so I kept not telling him. Eventually, I just didn’t see the point.”
He was quiet for so long she wondered if the call had dropped. Finally he spoke again. “It must have thrown you for a loop, me showing up like that.”
“I didn’t know you felt like that. I never guessed.”
“Because I was trying like hell to hide it.” He cleared his throat. “Actually, I spent a long time trying to deny it, but when I came home from college and you looked so damn unhappy...I had to try.”
“It never would have worked out,” she said, as much to herself as to him. “I didn’t feel the same way about you.”
“I know that—I knew that—but I thought you’d still be happier.”
Lauren didn’t know what to say to that. In fact, the entire conversation seemed a little surreal. During all the years she’d harmlessly imagined what life would have been like if she’d said yes to Ryan that day, she’d never once imagined they’d have a telephone conversation about it.
“I have to run,” he said when she missed her turn in the conversation. “Josh is waiting for me to go over some numbers.”
“Thanks for calling.”
“Good night, Lauren.”
She liked the way that sounded in her ear, as if his head was next to hers on a pillow. “Good night.”
Sitting on the step, the book forgotten in her lap, she wondered if it would be more or less awkward the next time she ran into Ryan. Maybe less awkward because they’d addressed the past and could put it behind them.
But the feelings he was stirring in her now could make things more awkward if she didn’t squash them. But wanting Ryan Kowalski wasn’t an easy thing to squash.
Chapter Six