Текст книги "Fading"

Автор книги: E. K. Blair

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Текущая страница: 13 (всего у книги 25 страниц)

After a while, the commotion and noise start to overwhelm me. Needing to take a little breather, I offer to take Katie a plate of food since she missed dinner. Walking upstairs, I quietly knock on the door to Ryan's room. I crack the door open and Katie is lying in bed next to Madison.

"I brought you some dinner," I whisper.

Katie gets out of the bed, and I hand her the plate.

"Thank you so much, Candace. That's really sweet."

Looking over at her daughter, I ask, "How's she feeling?"

"She doesn't have a fever, just an upset tummy mostly. I can't get her to go to sleep though."

"Well, I have no experience with kids, but do you mind if I try?"

"God, pleeease," she chuckles. "She has books in her bag by the bed if you want to try reading to her."

"Thanks. Why don't you go downstairs and eat? I'll stay with her."

"Are you sure?"

"Yes, go," I say with a smile.

"Okay. Thank you."

Walking over to the bed, I sit down and Madison rolls over with a tiny groan.

I tell her that I'm a friend of her Uncle Ryan's, and she immediately starts babbling about him and asking me questions. When she begins to slow down, I reach over to her bag and take out two books. They're both ballerina princess books.

"You like ballerinas?" I ask.

"Mmm hmm, I wanna be one. Mommy says when I turn four that I can go to dance class."

"I think you'll make a beautiful ballerina." She smiles up at me and I say, "Do you know that I'm a ballerina?"

"A real one or pretend?"

"A real one."

"You wanna be my friend?"

"Best friends."

She giggles as I open one of her books and begin to read. It isn't long until she is sound asleep with her head on my lap. Not wanting to wake her, I keep still and allow her to sleep.

Setting the books down, I finally take a moment to realize I am lying in Ryan's bed. I look around the room that he grew up in. He has a couple of surfboards leaning against one of the walls and a large flat screen mounted on the wall facing the bed. Something about being in his room makes my heart beat a little faster. I don't want to be feeling this way, but I am. The way he was with me last night makes me feel as if I want to like him more. I have never felt this way about any guy in the past, and that scares me. I only wish he knew me before this year, before I was so screwed up.

Light filters into the room when the door opens. Ryan walks in, looks at me, and laughs. "Are you stuck under Maddie?"

"I didn't want to move and wake her up. What time is it?"

"Past eleven. Everyone has gone to bed. I told Katie to go on to bed and that I would check on you and Maddie."

"I wanted to thank your mother before she went to bed."

"Don't worry about it. Here's your bag. I made a big pallet of blankets and pillows downstairs in the living room. Since Maddie is in my room, we're just going to sleep down there. We can watch a movie or something if you want." He sets my bag on the floor and walks further into the room.

"Oh...ummm..." I mutter nervously. I was supposed to sleep in this room and Ryan was going to stay on the couch.

Sensing my hesitation, he says, "Don't worry. I'll take the floor and you can have the couch."

I smile at him as he walks over and grabs some clothes from his dresser. "I'll be downstairs. You can use my bathroom to change."

"Okay," I say as I slowly slide out from underneath Madison, careful not to wake her.

I grab my bag and go into Ryan's bathroom. I quickly take my sleeping pill, brush my teeth and hair, and then change into a pair of pajama pants and a black cami.

When I walk downstairs, I see Ryan in the kitchen wearing only a pair of flannel pajama pants that are hanging low on his hips. I'm surprised when I see a half-sleeve of tattoos on his right arm that spans a few inches onto his chest.

When he spots me from across the room, he says, "Grabbing some water. Want a bottle?"

"No, thanks."

I notice all the blankets and pillows piled into a big fluffy makeshift bed in the center of the living room.

"You mind if I take the floor?" I ask.

"You sure?"

"Yeah. It looks more comfortable anyway."

"Okay."

Suddenly feeling nervous about spending the night here in the same room as Ryan, I apprehensively walk over and sit down, sliding the covers over my legs. He walks across the dark room, the only light coming from the last of the burning embers in the fireplace. I try not to stare at his bare chest that is revealing the tattoos I never knew he had. He sits down next to me and turns the TV on.

"TCM?"

I laugh at him and say, "It's all we ever watch. Why switch now?"

"I think you're starting to like my movies," he teases.

"Maybe."

We sit back and start watching a movie when Ryan turns to me and says, "Were you okay today?"

"I was. You're really lucky; you have a great family."

"Well, everyone really likes you, especially my mom."

"She's really nice. We had some time to visit earlier."

His words are sweet, but at the same time bring sadness. I only wish it was my parents who felt this way. But being here today, with his big family, has made me realize just how cold my family is. You can't even compare the two. Feeling the emotions tugging at me, I lie down and lay my head on the pillows sitting next to Ryan. He starts playing with my hair, and it's only a matter of minutes when I begin to feel the effects of my pill and drift off.

Gasping for breath, I thrash up out of a dead sleep. My breathing is loud, and I'm confused about where I am until I hear Ryan say, "Candace," as he jumps off the couch and is by my side in a second, pulling me into his arms. "You okay?"

My body is stiff, and I'm shaken, panicked by what just happened. I have no idea what I was dreaming about. I start taking deeps breaths.

"What happened, babe?"

"Bad dream," I quietly whisper through my erratic breathing. I have no idea what brought that on.

"Slow your breathing down, okay?"

I do as he says and concentrate on his heartbeat as he holds me against his chest. Wrapping my arms around him, he begins to stroke one of his hands up and down my back. Once I'm calm and my breathing has steadied, he asks, "Wanna talk about it?"

I don't speak; I just shake my head no. Truth is, I don't know what I was even dreaming about, and the last thing I want to do is try to remember it.

Ryan slides under the covers with me and lays us down, both on our sides facing each other. I look up into his eyes, and he is staring back into mine. Holding me tightly against his warm body, looking into his clear-blue eyes, my heart begins to quicken again, but in a completely different way. He brings his hand up and gently places it on the side of my cheek. My breath catches, and I am so close to him that I can hear his breaths as they begin to increase slightly. Everything about him is calling me. I'm too scared to even move, but at the same time, I want to move. He's all around me, and I still want more. Never taking his eyes off of me as we lie in the darkness, I grasp onto a thread of bravery and bring my hand up to cup his cheek as he is doing mine. Wrapped up in each other, his gaze slowly moves down to my mouth. I shouldn't be wanting to do what I know he wants to, but when his eyes flick back to mine, I keep my eyes locked on his as I nod my head, my timid way of letting him know what I want.

Lowering his head slowly, my heart begins to pound in my chest as he gently presses his soft lips to mine, and my eyes fall shut. My body starts to tremble under his arms, and he grips me tighter. His kisses are slow, but purposeful. When I begin to move my lips softly with his, he glides his hand from my cheek to the back of my head, weaving his fingers into my hair and holding me close.

He brushes his tongue across my upper lip, and a soft noise escapes my throat. I want this, and I want this with him, but I'm scared. I've never felt this way before, and I don't know what it is about him that makes me feel like this. I take my hand from his cheek, slide it under his arm, back up around his broad shoulder, and grip tightly. My heart is all over the place as our lips meld together.

Without breaking our connection, he shifts me onto my back. He begins to softly nip and suck, taking his time and not rushing our kisses. I slide my hands down his shoulders and hold tightly onto his muscular arms. When I feel his tongue brush across my lip again, I part my lips more and allow him to deepen the kiss. He dips his tongue into my mouth and caresses it against mine.

My emotions are running high, and I'm not used to the feelings that course through me. Suddenly, the thought creeps in that I'm too damaged for him to ever want to be with me. And what if I'm just another girl to him? I can't do this. I realize that I'm feeling too much, and he now has the potential to hurt me.

I push my hands against his arms, and he pulls back."I'm sorry," I barely whisper, keeping my eyes closed because I'm embarrassed to look at him.

He continues to hold me tightly in his warm arms. "Look at me, Candace," he breathes out.

I take a second before I hesitantly open my eyes and look into his. Supporting himself above me on one elbow, he takes his hand and brushes the back of his fingers along my face.

"I don't want you to feel sorry for that."

Another small noise escapes me as I nod. I can't speak, because holding on as tightly as I am to keep my tears from falling is taking up all the strength I have. So, I wrap my arms around him, clinging to his warmth, to the belief that I didn't just do something stupid—clinging to my hope that he won't hurt me.

Leaning down and resting his forehead against mine, I can't help myself when I tilt my chin up and gently kiss him. His lips fall slowly onto mine, pushing my head into the pillow. I cup his face between my two hands before he languidly pulls his lips from mine. Lying back on his side, he pulls me into him, and for the first time in my life, I let someone besides Jase hold onto me through the night.

My legs are tangled with Ryan's, and he's lying behind me with his arm draped around my waist. His warmth is wrapped around me and although I feel nervous about seeing him after our kiss last night, I also feel relaxed in his arms as he sleeps.

My stomach is full of butterflies, and I haven't even opened my eyes yet. What does this all mean? I wish I knew where his head was at, what he's thinking. At the same time, I feel like I'm not guarding myself like I probably should be. What if that kiss didn't mean anything to him? What if that's something he just does with any girl? Did he feel what I felt?

Taking in a deep breath, I hold it and try to clear my head of all these jumbled thoughts. When I let out my breath, I open my eyes and see two round blue eyes staring into mine.

"Night night over."

"It's not over, Bailey," Ryan mumbles behind me in a sleepy raspy voice.

I look at Bailey, Ryan's two-year-old niece, and give her a grin.

"I eat bweakfast. Night night over," she says to me in her sweet toddler voice.

"Okay," I whisper to her as I start to wriggle my way from underneath Ryan's arm.

He pulls me back down and with his eyes still shut says, "Where are you going?"

"To go get her something to eat." I slide out from under the pile of blankets and walk to the dining room while Bailey follows.

Pulling out a chair for her at the table, she takes a seat and says, "I eat ceweal."

"Sounds good. Where's the cereal?" I say to myself as I walk into the kitchen and open the door to the pantry. I scan around and see a box of Cookie Crunch.

"How about this?" I ask her as I hold up the box.

A big smile covers her face, and I start opening and closing cabinets to find her a bowl.

"The kid's things are in the cabinet by the fridge," Ryan says from across the room.

I look over my shoulder at him as he is walking toward me. His hair has a messiness to it that just adds to his appeal. I shake off the thought and turn around to pour the cereal in the bowl.

I walk over to the table and set it in front of the little girl and then peel open a banana for her as well.

"Fanks," she says around a mouth full of cereal.

When I walk back into the kitchen, Ryan is starting a pot of coffee. The house is quiet and we are the only ones up.

"Want some?" he asks as he is opening the cabinet to grab the mugs.

I lean back against the counter opposite of him and nod my head. I don't know what to say to him, and I'm a bundle of nerves as I watch him move around the kitchen.

"Umm, I'm gonna sneak upstairs and get cleaned up." I need space to regroup and watching him move around wearing nothing but a loose pair of pajama pants is way too distracting for me.

"Here," he says as he pours the creamer in my coffee and adds one sugar.

"Thanks." I take the cup, and avoid eye contact. What am I doing? Why does this make me so uncomfortable? Even the fact that he remembers how I take my coffee feels like too much.

It's always been difficult for me to connect to people, to let them in. Jase says it's because of the lack of affection I had when I was growing up. Maybe he's right. I've only ever truly let one person in—Jase. Guys have always made me feel awkward. I don't know how to respond to affection, and I wind up feeling embarrassed and shy. For the first time, I don't want to feel that way. Not with Ryan. Maybe it's because he has seen a part of me that no one besides Jase has.

Fighting with my parents has been my life. I am used to the chilled air that surrounds them. But having Ryan witness that, and then watching me fall apart, is something that no one has seen. I've always kept that hidden within me.

"Hey," he says, and I am snapped out of my thoughts. "You okay?"

No. I'm confused. I don't want to be, but I am. What happened last night? What did that mean?

"Yeah, I'm fine. I just want to get ready before everyone wakes up."

"Okay."

I turn and make my way upstairs and quietly sneak into his room, careful not to wake Madison.

I take my time showering and getting ready, needing to pull my thoughts together before going downstairs. Yesterday was overwhelming, being around Ryan's large family. I am so used to calm and quiet. I can already hear the kids playing as I slip on my jeans and one of my old UW sweatshirts. Wrapping my hair on top of my head in a messy bun, I hear a knock on the bathroom door.

"Come in," I say. When the door opens, Ryan walks in and leans up against the sink right next to me. I look over at him while I'm swiping on some lip-gloss and start putting everything away. He watches me as I pack my things up, and when I pass him, he takes me by the waist and pulls me in.

"What's wrong?" he asks.

"Nothing. Really."

Cocking his head slightly to the side, he says, "You wanna get out of here for a while?"

Without thinking too much, I nod my head.

He takes my hand, but this time it's different. He laces his fingers through mine and leads me downstairs. Everyone is moving about, eating breakfast, and tending to all the kids. He walks us into the formal dining room where his mother and cousins are sitting. I see Donna's eyes go straight to our hands, and I quickly try to pull my hand away, but he grips me tighter.

"Good morning, Candace," she says as she stands up and gives me a hug. "How did you sleep last night?"

"Good, thank you."

"Hey, Mom, we're going to go to Indian Beach for a while," Ryan tells her.

"Oh, okay. Well, the girls and I are heading to Astoria for the day to do some shopping, so we won't be around. But the guys are going to stay here with all the kids."

"What are the plans for dinner tonight?"

"The kids really want Fultano's Pizza," she says.

"Text me when you're driving back, and we'll go pick it up," Ryan tells her.

"Thanks, dear." She leans in and kisses him on the cheek. "You guys have a good day."

We head out to the jeep and start driving towards Ecola Park to the beach. The drive is quiet as we weave through the lush trees on the narrow, winding road. The surroundings are absolutely stunning, considering the dark grey skies and rainy weather. When we make our way out of the canopy of trees, Ryan parks the jeep, reaches into the back seat, and grabs me a hooded raincoat.

"Here, wear this," he says as I take the coat from him.

When we get out of the jeep, I shrug on the huge coat and pull the hood over my head. The wind off the water is strong, and the chill is biting. He takes my hand again and starts walking us down the wooden stairs to the wet puddled sand and rocks. This place is beautiful in a dark and moody way. We are the only ones on the beach aside from a few surfers in wetsuits out in the water. I follow Ryan and we walk along the uneven stacks of black rocks toward a few logs of driftwood. We sit on one of the logs, and he wraps his arm around me as I shiver in the rainy cold. The view of the deep cliffs around us and the sea stacks in the water are awesome.

"This is amazing," I say.

"Yeah, I love it out here. I used to surf here a lot growing up."

I nod my head, remembering the surfboards in his bedroom.

"Candace," he says as he turns his focus on me. Looking into my eyes, he asks, "What's bothering you? And don't say nothing, because I know something is."

Looking away, back at the water, I try to find my words. If I don't talk to him, then the awkwardness will just continue. But, what do I say? There are a million things racing through my head, and I am finding it hard to hone in on just one. And what if he thinks I'm crazy for reading too much into a kiss that was probably something so casual to him?

"Candace," he says, and I turn to look back at him.

I let out a breath before admitting, "I just don't really know what we're doing." It's all I can say.

Shifting his one leg over the log, he turns to face me straight on. "Tell me what you want."

What? Why can't he just tell me what he wants?

Not wanting to look at him, I stare out into the water again when I confess, "I'm not good at this stuff, Ryan."

"Come here," he says as he tugs on my leg, and I shift my body slightly to face him. "I've wanted to kiss you since the night of the concert. I don't know where your head is at, but whenever I'm not with you, I want to be."

My heart begins to race as he says this to me. It's what I was hoping to hear, but also what I was scared to hear.

When I drop my head, he says, "Talk to me, babe."

"I just...I don't do this well."

"Do what?"

"This..." I stop talking when he cradles my face in his hands and moves me so that I'm looking at him.

"Whatever this is, I want it. I just need to know if you do." His eyes are serious, and he never takes them off of me as he speaks. It's intimidating and makes me anxious. Hearing him speak so honestly makes my stomach flutter. I'm scared. I'm happy. I'm all over the place when I finally look up at him. And with trepidation, I nod my head yes.

A smile breaks across his face as he pulls me in and kisses me. I wrap my arms around him, underneath his coat as his cold, rain soaked lips cover mine. He draws me in tight, and I melt into him. Pushing my fears aside, I focus solely on him. His hold on me is strong, which contrasts his gentle kisses. He's in no rush as he takes his time, dragging his tongue across my lip and slipping it inside my mouth. When our tongues slide across each other, I tighten my grip on him. His lips are soft, and I can taste a hint of mint on him. He holds my head and guides me with him as we move with one another. I've never been kissed the way Ryan kisses me. He's slow and deliberate, and I can feel that it's more than just a kiss to him, which settles me because it's more than that for me too.

His hands still on my cheeks, he breaks our kiss, and I stare up into his eyes when he says, "Should we get out of here?"

"Let's stay." I'm in no hurry to go back to his house, and I don't want this moment to end just yet.

"Come here." He pulls me onto his lap, and I hook my arms around his neck. He is much larger than I am, so I fit perfectly in his hold.

"Can I ask you something?"

"Anything," he says as he turns his head to look at me.

"I never asked before because I didn't want to intrude, but...where is your father?"

He lets out a slow breath and shifts his focus out to the beach. "He died about ten years ago." He turns to face me again, and I feel awful for asking.

"I'm sorry, I shouldn't have asked," I say when I drop my head, feeling bad for bringing it up.

Lifting my chin to look up at him, he says, "Candace, you can ask me anything. I don't want you to feel like you can't, okay?"

"Yeah," I quietly sigh and turn my head away from him, still feeling like I shouldn't have asked him that.

After a moment he begins to speak. "My dad was an asshole." When I look at him, he continues, "He drank way too much and was never around, but when he was, he was a total dick. So, don't feel bad for asking, because I don't feel bad that he's dead."

His voice is hard when he speaks, and I have no idea how to respond to his harsh words. I want to know more, but I don't dare ask. Whatever is underneath this is something that seems painful, so I let it go.

I look up at the cliff that is behind us and notice a roped off ledge. "Is there a trail up there?"

Turning his head to see what I'm looking at, he says, "Yeah, it's a pretty decent path if you want to go up there."

Needing to cut this intensity, I say, "Yeah, let's go."

He eyes my leopard rain boots and asks, "Those have enough traction?"

"We'll see." I giggle and hop off of his lap and grab his hands to pull him off the log.

He smiles at my laugh and leans down to give me a chaste kiss before bending down and grabbing me behind my knees, scooping me up over his shoulder. I squeal as he starts hauling me up the stairs while I hang upside down. I don't even think to tell him to put me down because I love this feeling of playfulness. I honestly can't remember the last time I have felt like this; I don't think I ever have.

We hike along the path and explore the area for a couple hours. I was apprehensive about coming on this trip with him, but I'm so glad I did. My discomfort has dissipated, and it feels like it always has with us—light and easy.

We start walking back to the jeep, thoroughly wet and windblown.

"You up for shopping?" he asks me with a smirk.

"Shopping?"

"Yeah, everyone is leaving tonight, so I need to get the kids hopped up on sugar before they go," he jokes. Opening my door, he helps me up into my seat before walking around to the other side. When he gets in, I ask, "Where are we going?"

"Seaside. There's a cool candy shop called The Buzz."

I laugh at his excitement. "Your cousins are going to hate you, you know?"

"I'm their uncle, it's my job to spoil the shit out of those kids to spite their parents."

He makes me laugh, but his love for his nieces and nephews is apparent. I get the feeling that is how they all are with each other. It feels so abnormal to be around them, but I know it's because I've never had that in my life. It's always just been me and my parents, and there was never any warmth between us.

Ryan reaches over, laces his fingers with mine, and holds my hand. I smile when I look over at him. I sit back, with our hands connected, and enjoy his quiet company as we drive.

Pulling onto the Broadway Strip of Seaside, there are throngs of people walking on the sidewalks, going in and out of the shops that line the street. When we find a parking spot, we walk to the candy shop. He leads me to the back of the store, and when I see what he is eying, I start laughing and say, "You cannot let those kids eat this stuff!"

"Watch me," he says with a devious smile.

I just stand there next to him, shaking my head as he tells the sales clerk to bag up chocolate-covered and peanut butter-covered Twinkies, chocolate covered bacon, and a chunk of peanut butter foam rock.

Looking over at me as he pays for the diabetic-coma-in-a-bag, he innocently says, "What?" as if he doesn't understand the absurdness of his purchase.

"Nothing," I say in a high-pitched mock defensive tone.

After grabbing lunch, we continue to shop around before deciding to head back. The rain has been constant all day, and we are both in desperate need of clean, dry clothes, especially since we decided to hike in the mud earlier.

Ryan's mom calls to let us know that they are on their way back to the house, so we stop by Fultano's to pick up a few pizzas for an early dinner before everyone leaves.

We arrive home before his mother and aunts do, so Ryan stashes the pizzas in the oven and offers to take the older kids upstairs to play to give their dads a little break. There is a large playroom that he takes the three kids into and has me shut the door behind them.

"Can you guys keep a secret?" he asks them.

Madison, Bailey, and Connor, his four year-old nephew, all say 'yes' in excited unison when Ryan pulls out the bag of sugary junk. I sit back on one of the couches in the room and laugh as Ryan and the kids dive into everything. Watching how he is with these kids, laughing and playing on the floor, is another reason for me to like him even more. I know he owns a successful business and works hard, but it's nice that he has this lighthearted side to him as well.

Ryan comes over to sit next to me with one of the pieces of chocolate covered bacon.

"Here," he says as he tries to hand it to me.

Pushing his hand away, I say, "Gross. I'm not eating that."

"It's surprisingly really good." He takes a bite out of it and holds the leftover piece to my mouth. "Just try it," he says, and I open my mouth and bite it out of his grip.

I'm amazed that it is actually good. The salt and smoke of the bacon blends well with the sweetness of the chocolate.

"Okay, you win. That was actually really good," I admit.

Ryan looks out the window that's over my shoulder then back to the kids.

"Guys, eat fast. Our mom's just pulled up."

The three of them giggle as they try desperately to scarf down the rest of the sweets. Ryan and I laugh while watching them in their simplicity of fun. We get up, and Ryan wads up all the wrappers.

Holding out my hands, I say, "Give them to me. I'll hide them."

The kids run downstairs and Ryan hands over the wrappers as I walk to his room. He follows me in and closes the door behind us. I walk into the bathroom and toss everything in the trashcan. When I walk out, Ryan is sitting on the edge of the bed.

"Come over here," he says.

Walking over to him, he pulls me between his legs and slides his arms around my waist. Because of our height difference, we are almost level. Looking at me, he says, "I'm glad you're here with me."

I smile at him with my hands gripped on his shoulders. "Me too."

Placing his hand behind my neck, he draws me in so he can kiss me. He keeps the kiss short then pulls me down to sit on his knee. The room is dark as we stare at each other with our foreheads resting together. Being like this with him, in this quiet room, is peaceful. Neither one of us speaks as we sit here together.

"We should go downstairs," I whisper.

Whispering back, he says, "Not yet."

We stay like this, me on his knee, foreheads together, when Connor comes bursting through the door.

"Busted!" he shouts.

I jump up, and Ryan turns to him. "What do you mean?"

"Bailey had chocolate on her face and Mom is blaming you."

"Okay, kid, let's go face the firing squad."

When Connor starts running back downstairs, Ryan and I follow.

"What did you feed these kids?" Tori asks Ryan.

"I'll never tell, and neither will they," he jokes as the kids start laughing uncontrollably. "Call it a going-home present," he says with a wink.

"Payback's a bitch. Just remember that, Ryan. One of these days, when you have kids, you'll see."

Ryan laughs at her, and I try to stifle my laugh as well. Watching their playful banter is pretty funny.

The house is quiet and still. Everyone left about an hour ago, and I have been curled up on the couch, reading one of my favorite childhood books I found on the bookshelf, since I got out of the shower. Ryan is upstairs, getting cleaned up, while I drink a cup of hot tea and read as the rain trickles down the large windows that look out to the beach.

"Where's Ryan?" Donna asks as she walks into the room.

"He's taking a shower."

She grabs a couple blankets and joins me on the couch. "Here, cover up. It's cold."

Draping the blanket across my lap, I set the book down and say, "Thanks."

She wraps up in her blanket and asks, "How are you doing, dear?"

"Good actually. I'm sorry I wasn't around much to visit with everyone. I hope no one thought I was being rude."

"No one thought that. Please, no need to apologize."

"It's just...I'm not used to being around a large group. It's a little overwhelming for me."

"You don't need to explain. Everyone loves you. It was a nice surprise to have you, and Ryan seems really happy."

"Oh," I say, not sure how to respond to her statement.

"Ryan said he went to meet your parents on Christmas Eve. I've been so busy, I haven't had a chance to ask him about it. How did it go?" she questions.

Looking down at my tea, I shake my head. "Not well."

She reaches over and places her hand on my knee. "What happened?"

I sit there, trying to figure out where I should begin. I've been so busy the past few days that I haven't had much time to think about our fight. Now that I am searching for the words, the finality of our fight plays back in my head. I swallow hard against the lump in my throat, and when I open my mouth to speak, I can't seem to get anything out. I close my mouth and stare into Ryan's mother's eyes.

"Oh, sweetie," is all she says when she scoots closer and wraps me in her arms.

How is it that this woman I just met yesterday seems to read me better than my own mother? Why can't my mother just love me? Why has she never loved me? My thoughts become too much, and I begin to weep quietly as Donna rubs my back. My mother has never comforted me like this, not even when I was a little girl. When I was younger, it was always the nanny who would lie with me when I got sick, or put Band-Aids on my knees when I would fall off my bike. Why couldn't I have had a loving family like Ryan's?