I nodded. "Yes," I whispered. "But not just lonely, Ryan. Lonely for you. Only for you."
He planted his lips on my forehead for several moments before he said, "I missed you, too, Lily. I can't even express how much I’ve missed you. I’ve ached for you. I still do. I still do." His voice sounded hoarse and filled with pain. I wanted to raise my mouth to his. I was trembling from holding back, but we had so much to discuss. So many things that might cause him to run . . .
"Ryan," I murmured. He seemed to read my thoughts because he pulled back and took my hands in his again.
"Can I get you a glass of water? Some coffee?"
I nodded, the tension releasing from my body. It was as if he'd read my mind and knew I needed a moment. He seemed to know my needs so well, though we'd spent so little time together. "Sure, water would be great."
Ryan stood up and headed to the kitchen and I stood, too, walking to the window and taking a deep breath, readying myself. I'd never talked about my illness with anyone other than Nyala and my doctors. I'd never been afraid like this.
I stared out of Ryan's window, overlooking the vastness of Golden Gate Park. From here, I could almost imagine it was our forest. It made me feel . . . homesick. Although I supposed that was the wrong word since it hadn't actually been my home. Still, the feeling lingered. I'd been happy there, though at the time, I'd been the mere ghost of myself.
I turned when I heard Ryan enter the room and walked back over to the couch. He set a bottle of water on the coffee table and I took a long drink once I'd sat back down.
"Do you need a minute?" he asked.
I set the water back down and shook my head. "No, I just need to start. I need to tell you."
"Then tell me," he said gently.
I took a deep breath and dove right in. "The winter I was ten, my mother took me to see The Nutcracker in downtown Telluride. It was an icy night and we almost stayed home, but in the end, my mother decided to brave the weather. It wasn't far and the roads had been salted." I paused, remembering how beautiful it had been that night, the way the tree branches had been encased in ice, making them sparkle in the moonlight. It had looked like a land from a fairy tale. The whole night had felt magical. I had been enchanted by the ballet, swept away by the music the orchestra played. The hot chocolate my mother bought me during intermission had been thick and sweet, topped by swirls of whipped cream with a candy cane stirrer. My mother had been particularly beautiful in her white winter coat and red scarf, her blonde hair long and lustrous, her green eyes shining with happiness. When we left, I told her it was the most wonderful night of my life.
"We had parked in a lot several blocks from the theater, and because we were talking and reminiscing about the performance, we got turned around and ended up on a side street that only had one dim street light. That's when the man stepped out from the doorway of a building." Ryan took my hand in his, squeezing it to let me know he was there. "At first I was just confused, but I could tell my mother was scared, and so I became scared, too. We tried to turn around and walk the other way, but he immediately caught up to us. He put a knife to my mother's throat and demanded money."
"God, Lily," Ryan said. I paused as I picked up the water and took a long drink, needing the moment.
"My mother handed him her purse and he poured everything out and took what he wanted. But he wasn't done with us. He dragged my mom into a doorway and started ripping at her clothes—" I drew in a large, shuddery breath, even now reliving the confused dread that had gripped me back then. "I was crying, of course, and he kept telling me to shut up or he'd kill my mother. I . . ." I'd begun shaking and Ryan pulled me in to his chest, making soft sounds of comfort.
"You don't have to do this, Lily, not if you don't want to."