“Why does this kind of stuff happen?” I ask him. “It’s not fair.”
He lets go of my chin and sits back. “No, it’s not fair,” he agrees, “but it’s life and life is rarely fair. I used to stay up every night and ask myself what I did wrong in my life to deserve losing Angela, and then on one of those nights I realized there wasn’t anything I did or didn’t do. These things just happen. It’s not a personal attack on you or me. It was a freak thing, and that’s it.”
“I’ve been doing that,” I admit. “Asking myself what I did to deserve this,” I confess, wiping my tears on the sleeve of my sweatshirt.
“It’s normal,” he tells me, glancing toward Cole. “I think we all go through that when we lose someone tragically.”
“Getting that call …” I begin. “I’ve never felt so panicked and helpless before.”
He winces. “Death is never easy, but at least I had some preparation with Angela.”
I think over his words. “I think in some ways that would be worse. Every moment you’d wonder if it was your last.”
“True,” he agrees. “It just sucks all the way around.”
I nod. “We were engaged,” I tell him.
His eyes flit to my finger. “And you’re still wearing the ring.”
“I am. You’re not.” I nod at his fist resting on the table.
He opens his hand and lays his palm flat on the table. “I used to. I only took it off recently. I think you know when it’s time.”
“Two months ago I thought I had my whole life ahead of me, and now I see nothing.”
He shakes his head rapidly. “No, no, that’s completely wrong. You have a life, you have everything. Especially now.” He waves his hands toward my stomach. “Not everyone gets to hold onto their love that way.” His eyes flit to Cole. “But it’s really special when you do.”
“Right now I’m still too sad and scared to see that. What if I never do?” I worry my bottom lip between my teeth.
He reaches across the table and wraps his hand around mine, giving it a small squeeze. “You will, I promise.”
“Thank you,” I tell him. “For letting me come over and talking. I ... I feel a lot better.”
He smiles widely. “Good, I’m glad I could help. I’m here for you anytime you need it.”
I stand and pick up my tea and muffin wrapper. “Well I better get going.”
“Yeah, of course.” He stands and picks up Cole before leading me to the door.
“Bye,” I say, and wave at him over my shoulder.
“Bye.” He smiles and waves back.
“Bye-bye.” Cole grins and buries his face in the crook of Ryder’s neck.
I smile at the little boy before the door closes. Cole doesn’t know it, but he just gave me even more hope, because suddenly I see what I’ll have with my baby.
I drive around for a while after I leave Ryder’s. I don’t feel like going home or shopping, so that leaves driving. I turn the radio up and let my thoughts leave me. I feel better, a lot better, since talking to Ryder; there’s something about him that’s like a balm to a wound. Maybe because our experiences are somewhat similar I feel more connected to him. I trust him, without really knowing him. There are not many people I’ve ever had that kind of connection with. Only Ben and him.
After a while of driving around, it’s finally time to meet the girls at the café. I still don’t feel like going, but I no longer dread it like I did this morning.
I park my car and head inside. I’m the first one there, so I order a hot chocolate and take a seat in my usual spot.
Chloe arrives first and waves before heading over to the register to place her order. She grabs her own drink and sits down, unwinding her plum-colored scarf from around her neck. Her nose is pink from the cold and her cheeks are flushed. “Hi,” she says.
“Hey,” I say back.
“How are you?” she asks, wrapping her hands around her mug of coffee.
I shrug. “Same old, same old.”
Her lips twist together and she looks away. She doesn’t know what to say and neither do I, so I pick at an invisible stain on the sleeve of my sweatshirt.
Hannah and Casey arrive at the same time, saying a quick hello before placing their orders and coming to sit down. They both got a sandwich while Chloe and I stick to our drinks.
Casey pulls out a chair and sits down. I look up at her slowly, wondering if she’s really doing what I think she’s doing. I keep expecting her to move, but she doesn’t. She’s chatting with Chloe—she might even be speaking to me, but I can’t hear her if she is.
“What are you doing?” I ask. My voice is unrecognizable, distorted by anger.
“What?” Her gaze swings to me and her blond curls bounce.
“You’re. Sitting. In. Ben’s. Seat.” I bite out each word through gritted teeth.
She looks at me like I’ve lost my mind. “It’s a seat.”
“It’s Ben’s seat,” I shriek, turning more than a few heads in our direction.