I felt myself pale and clasped my hands in my lap. I wasn't sure I had ever felt such deep loathing for someone before. Snake. "I'm not sure how my situation is any of your business, Jenny, was it?"
She gave me a smile, but it dissolved into something verging on a sneer. "Jenna," she corrected, her voice dripping phony sweetness. "Listen, Lily, Ryan told me in detail about his own struggles, poured his heart out actually. He's finally healing from his loss. Do you really think he needs to bring more unpredictability into his life? More chaos and uncertainty? If you care about him at all, which I suspect you do by the way you looked at him at the event, surely you see that I'm right."
I paused, regarding her, trying my very best not to let her see how much her words affected me. It was the crux of my pain regarding Ryan, in fact. How did this horrible woman know that? It was as if she could look right inside my heart, and that was not tolerable. And the fact that he'd shared his deepest secrets with her just . . . hurt. This was the woman Ryan had feelings for now? I supposed I should be personally offended by his poor taste in women. He'd been kissing her. His mouth had been on the mouth of the woman in front of me now, capable of spewing such ugly, hateful things. And I had told him he should be with her? I had practically demanded he choose her. Because I'd thought it was right, better. I didn't answer her question.
"He and I are just beginning something very special. I suppose he feels some attachment to you being that you were there during a very rough time in his life, and I suppose he feels as if he can't turn you away now. He must feel very sorry for you." She shook her head as if the thought was one that made her sad. "So, do the right thing—do him the favor of not having him make a choice that will cause him guilt. He doesn't need one more thing weighing on his mind."
"I'd like you to leave my home now."
"Happily. I'm done here." She stood. "Think on what I've said. I'm sure you'll realize I'm right."
"Goodbye, Gemma."
She narrowed her eyes at me again. "Goodbye, Lily. Be well." But the look on her face belied her words. If a person could be assassinated with a final glance, I'd be lying on the floor in a pool of blood.
I didn't stand up. My hands were shaking with anger but also with humiliation. It was almost as if Jenna was the very embodiment of all my deepest insecurities. She walked out of the room, and a moment later I heard the front door close quietly behind her. I heard the soft sound of my grandmother's shoes moving back toward the kitchen and let out a long exhale. A moment later I heard a clatter from the kitchen and my grandmother say, "Oh dear, what a mess."
CHAPTER TWENTY-FOUR
Ryan
My legs didn't want to cross the threshold, but I knew in my heart it was time. Holden's house. Taking a breath, I stepped inside. I'm here, buddy. I'm finally ready. Everything looked exactly the same, and yet a still emptiness filled the space, a sense of loneliness that had never been here before. God, I’ve missed you. Holden's housekeeping staff had been kept on, so everything was neat and clean—no dust, and fresh vacuum lines were visible on the living room carpet. I wanted to flee this place, flee the feelings it was bringing alive inside me, flee the despair bubbling up my throat, but I didn't. With a heavy heart, I climbed the grand double staircase in the foyer to what had been Holden's bedroom. I'd do a little bit today, and then I'd save the rest for another day, as it didn't need to happen all at once. This house was paid for, and even if it wasn't, I had plenty of money to keep making whatever payments needed to ensure its upkeep. I went directly to Holden's massive, walk-in closet and took a couple suitcases off the shelves. Jenna had been right—people would probably fall all over themselves to bid on Holden's underwear, but that didn't feel right. I'd quietly drop this stuff off at a homeless shelter—or one of those charities that helped provide interview attire for indigent people—luggage included, and I wouldn't say a word about who had owned it. That's what Holden would have wanted, and no one knew that better than I did. He’d been generous to a fault but not showy. Never showy. And everything he had done for charity, he’d done anonymously.