Page 218 of His Virgin Romance Series

CHAPTER25

Ryder

I rememberedthe moment I had come back home. It was a drizzly Tuesday when I’d walked up to the front door of the house I’d grown up in. I had been gone only a couple of years, but it felt like a lifetime had passed. I had left an angry teenager, and now I felt like the weary old traveler who simply wanted to lay his head down on a place he was familiar with.

If I concentrated really hard, I could see it all happen in real time. I could see my father’s face contort into relief and anger. I could see my mother looking at me with the hugest smile on her face. I could hear the words that we flung at each other directly after that moment. Then dad had stormed off, calling me an ungrateful child, and Mom had come and hugged me so hard that I could barely breathe. It had been a long time since I’d revisited that memory in such detail.

But I was on the open road, driving fast with the wind slapping against my face, and the memory wasn’t uncomfortable anymore. It came easily, and suddenly I was reliving it again… like I was there.

Mom pulled back and cupped my face with her hands. “Let me look at you.”

She had aged. I could tell right away. It was like the last few years had expanded into ten. There were lines around her eyes and mouth; her hazel eyes were paler now. It was like they had lost some of the bright brown that used to make them sparkle. Her hair was a fierce and bright brown, which told me that she dyed it regularly. She would have only started doing that if she had started to go gray.

“Hi, Mom,” I said softly.

“You’re huge,” she said, grabbing my arms. “Where did all these muscles come from?”

I smiled.

“And you have new tattoos.”

“A few more,” I nodded.

“A few,” she repeated with a laugh.

Then her laughter faded, and she gestured to me to sit down. We sat next to each other at the round kitchen table that faced large windows so that we could see the trees outside.

“You’ll need to give your father some time,” she said.

I nodded. “I know.”

She smiled at that. “You’ve changed,” she observed.

“How can you tell?”

“It’s in your eyes,” she responded. “You’re not the stubborn teenager that stormed out of here and vowed never to return.”

“Stubborn?” I repeated, with raised eyebrows.

“Come now,” Mom said, touching my hand every few seconds as though to make sure I was really there. “You and I both know it was your stubborn nature that led to that fight.”

I sighed. “Yes, I was stubborn,” I nodded. “But I was angry too. I felt like both of you had lied to me my entire life.”

“Where was the lie, son?” Mom asked.

“Really?”

“Really,” Mom nodded. “I’m your mother and Dad is your father… what more is there to say?”

“The relationship you had with Godwin—”

“Was a long time ago,” she replied before I could finish. “I was young… we all were. Yes, I was with Godwin when I met your father… And in many ways, he was my savior.”

“What do you mean?”

“Godwin was not good to the women he was with,” Mom replied. “He was charming ‘til he had me, and then he morphed back into his true nature. He was possessive and violent and prone to fits of anger that would last days for no reason. He was egotistical and greedy. He would obsess about little things, and he would place blame just so that he would have a reason to pick a fight.

“Living with him was torture, but I was too scared to leave him. Then I met your father and he got me out. He saved me from the life I had been living with Godwin and his club. He made sure Godwin could never hurt me ever again.”

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