Ryder laughs. “You can wear whatever the hell you want. I don’t care as long as you’re there.” There’s a vulnerability in his eyes, like he fears he’s revealed too much.
I look at him and I see the promise of a future full of laughter and happiness. He’s everything I ever wanted before I met Ben. But I did meet Ben. I lived and I loved Ben, and I also lost him. I’m scared I’ll lose Ryder too—but where I did fear losing him to death, I now fear losing him to my own inability to move on. I know he won’t wait forever for me, but I still don’t know how long it’ll really take for me to be ready to take that next step with him or anyone for that matter.
“What are you thinking about?” he asks me.
“N-Nothing,” I stutter and drop my gaze from his face to the plate.
He chuckles and reaches over the tap my forehead. “Really? Because those creases suggest otherwise.”
I shrug. “Just the future.”
“You look worried,” he comments.
I bite my lip. “There are a lot of changes coming and …” I pause, searching for the right words. “I’m not sure I’m changing with them.”
He shakes his head. “Blaire, if you could see how much you’ve changed since I first met you, you wouldn’t be saying that. You’ve done remarkably well given your circumstances. I don’t know many people that wouldn’t have cracked under the pressure.”
“I’m pretty sure I did.” I try to laugh, but there’s no humor in the sound.
“You didn’t, trust me. You’re one of the most resilient people I’ve ever met, and I admire that about you. Remember, we all grieve differently and we all heal differently. No two stories are ever the same.” He pauses and inhales a breath. “You were so sad when I first met you. There was no light in your eyes. You didn’t smile or laugh. You were simply on auto-pilot, like most people who are grieving. But you didn’t stay that way. Yes, it’s taken months for you to get to this point and it’ll take more months for you to get to a different point, but you’re doing it and that’s what matters. You’re not letting grief beat you, you’re beating it.”
I stare at him for one second, two, three, and then I burst out laughing, clutching my stomach. “You sound like a drug coach or an AA advisor or something.” I laugh so hard tears fall from my eyes.
Ryder begins to laugh too. “Oh, shit, you’re right.” We both dissolve into a fit of laughter. I bury my face in my hands, trying to stifle the sound. “I really need to work on my speeches,” he chortles.
When I’m no longer dissolving into a fit of giggles, I say, “I understand what you’re saying.”
He sobers. “And I also should add that I’m not saying that one day you’ll wake up and forget him. That the pain will cease to exist, but in my own personal experience it does dull—but there are times where I wake up and it’s like there’s this crushing weight on my chest and it kills me that I’ll never see Angela smile again or hear her laugh.”
“Yeah.” I sigh. “That’s what bothers me the most,” I agree. I look away and inhale a breath. I let it out slowly and with it I exhale all my sadness—at least, that’s what I tell myself. I refuse to think about the fact that today should’ve been my first Fourth of July as Ben’s wife.
Some of the guys shout Ryder’s name and he cringes. “They’re starting another game and want me to join.”
“I’m okay here,” I assure him. “Go,” I urge. He looks torn. “I’m okay,” I say again. “No tears and no breakdowns from me, I promise.”
He laughs and taps his hand against the table. “Okay, but I’ll be back, and we’re not talking about Angela or Ben anymore. Instead, we’re just Blaire and Ryder—a guy and a girl enjoying the Fourth with friends and family.”
I nod my head in agreement as he leaves. He’s gone no more than thirty seconds until my mom slides into his empty chair. “So what was that about?” she asks, looking back at him where he stands with his friends. “It looked serious. Are you okay?” She brushes my hair away from my forehead like she used to when I was a little girl and she was trying to comfort me.
“He was just giving me a pep talk,” I explain.
She starts to speak, but someone says, “Hey,” behind us. I turn and find Ivy heading toward us.
“Hi!” I say much more cheerily than normal for me. I stand up to hug her. “I’m so happy you’re here.”
She hugs me back and sits down in the chair to my left. “I wasn’t sure I was going to come. I told Ryder I would, but then I woke up and didn’t feel like it, so that’s why I’m so late. I didn’t decide until an hour ago that I was actually going to come.”
“Don’t feel bad,” my mom says. “We were late because of this one.” She points at me.
“This is my mom,” I tell Ivy. “Mom, this is Ivy. From Group.”
“Nice to meet you,” my mom says with a smile. “I’m Maureen. I’ll leave you two to talk. I need to go find your dad. The man’s probably stopped up the toilet or something.” She laughs.