abandon him. I’m here. Heart. Soul. Body.
Groveton’s my home, but I will never abandon a friend, especially my best friend.” I stare at the comforter beneath us. “I need you to be okay with it, because I’m not budging when it comes to him.”
After a few moments of silence, I risk a
glance. Ryan eventually caves. “Fine. He’s your friend. If you’re going to trust me, then I’m going to trust you.”
I kick off my shoes and rub my toe against his foot. It’s the best I can do with an arm in a sling. “Deal. I love you and…” I swallow my fear and push through. “I trust you.”
“Good.” Ryan’s muscles visibly settle and his eyelids flutter.
“Good,” I repeat, allowing myself to relax along with him. “You know I want to hear it again.”
Ryan moves closer, wraps a protective arm around my waist, and shuts his eyes. “I trust you.”
“Nice try.” I softly mock elbow him with my padded cast and his chest moves as he chuckles. It feels so good to tease him again.
“The other thing. Say that.”
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“I love you.”
Enjoying his warmth and strength, I melt
into him and close my own eyes. “Again.”
“I love you,” he whispers.
“Again.” But this time my mind drifts as I hear his soft declaration. I mean to demand the words again, but then my head finds his chest.
His heart beats steadily in my ear and I have my answer. Both Ryan and I lose ourselves in each other and sleep.
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Ryan
A YEAR AGO, I had my life completely mapped out. It turns out, no one knows the future. I slip my arms through the suit coat and readjust my shoulders so the jacket will fit properly on my body. The bruises and cuts faded, but my ribs still ache by the end of the day. Especially if I’ve pushed myself too hard.
“Your tie is crooked.” Mom leans one shoulder against the door frame and gives a disapproving nod as she looks at my throat.
“Come here.”
I inch away from my dresser and Mom
undoes the knot.
“You look nice,” she says.
“Except for the tie.”
Mom’s lips tilt up and she slides the tie to measure it against my chest. “Except for the tie. How do you feel?”
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“Good.”
Lines worry her eyes and she strains to hold the smile. “I know the doctor cleared you to start practicing, but I think you should wait another week or two. Just to be sure everything healed correctly.”
Mom expertly weaves the tie into a knot and tightens it up to my throat. She stares at it for a second before letting her hand touch my cheek—a rare physical gesture for both of us.
“I’m glad you’re okay.”
She withdraws. “I talked to your brother again this morning. He asked how you were doing.”
Mark knows how I’m doing. We’ve talked on the phone every day since I was released from the hospital. Mark must still be feeling awkward talking to Mom and looking for the easiest conversation to have. I busy myself with buttoning my cuffs. “What did you tell him?”
“That you’re stubborn like your father and wouldn’t tell me if you were in pain.”
“I’m fine, Mom.”
Mom fiddles with her pearls. “If we had listened to you that morning…If we had HC TITLE-AUTHOR
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listened to you weeks before…If I had stood up to your father when Mark told us…none of this would have happened.”
“It’s okay.” I wish they had listened to me the morning Beth ran away. I wish they had listened to me weeks before when I told them I cared for her. I wish Mom had stood up to Dad and kept Mark in our family, but none of that happened. Even if it did, there’s no telling if it would have stopped the nightmare in motion.
Beth ran away because living in Groveton terrified her. She would have run regardless of what happened between us and because I love her, I would have followed.
Mom sighs and falls into social mode.
“Mark’s coming home for dinner on Sunday. I thought we could keep it simple. Just me, you, Mark…hopefully your father.”
“Sounds great.” Even though we both know Dad will go into town while Mark is home.
Dad still refuses to acknowledge Mark exists.
Nothing much has changed in my parents’
marriage. Mom’s choosing me and Mark, and Dad dropped the idea of running for mayor.
But he’s still home and they’re still going to counseling. As I said, who knows what the HC TITLE-AUTHOR
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future might bring.
“Don’t forget the corsage.” Mom slips out of the room.