Page 86 of Ryder

He looks at me, his eyes etched with pain and I wish I could take it all away. “I tried to reach out, even when it should’ve been her reachin’ out to me. I sent her money when she was down and out, even though I knew she’d probably blow it on drugs. Now I’ve got Stu askin’ to come visit.”

I still don’t think that’s a good idea, but if Stu has something to say, then I guess he can say it. “I’ve been thinking about that, and I think it’s best if we go to the funeral together. We’ll leave Ade with Audrina and Hustler, or Jas or Indi, and we’ll face this head on.”

Then again, Audrina is about to blow with their first child together, so scratch that idea.

He blinks. “You’d do that? You hated my mom.”

“Yes, but I love you. I’ll do anything for you. You have my full support in whatever you want to do, and who you want to see,”I say. “If you don’t want to see Stu, then that’s perfectly fine. I think he’s sniffing around for money.”

Ryder scrubs a hand over his face. “It was almost seventy grand,” he says. “That Aunt Dorothy left.”

“Holy crap.”

His face is solemn, and it kills me to see that frown. Ryder is such a good man, always wanting to do the right thing and taking care of everyone else. “Right? Maybe I should be thankful Mom didn’t blow it all. It feels dirty, ya know?”

“I don’t see why. It was Dorothy’s money, not really your mom’s.” I shrug. “But if you feel weird about it, you could always put it in a trust fund for Aiden’s college education, at least that way the money will do some good?”

“You’re right,” he sighs.

I smile softly. “Babe, I know this is a lot, but you know you can lean on me. Let me help you with the funeral, it’s a lot to fathom on your own, and I know you still want to bury your mom even if she didn’t deserve to have a son like you.”

“Really? A son like me?”

“Yes. A son like you. You’re an amazing husband and father. If she couldn’t stand you being happy and making something of your life despite her neglect, then that’s on her.”

My baby. A grown man, yet deep down he’s still that little boy who just wanted his mom to love him. It fills me with pain to think about what he suffered at the hands of that bastard stepfather, and his mom did nothing to stop it. She was just as bad. It doesn’t matter what circumstances you’re in; you get out. If you know your child is being hurt, that’s a whole different ball game. When I think about our son and someone hurting, I want to commit bloody murder.

We never did talk about it, but the day our son was christened was the day I learned Jimmy was dead. I never asked any questions, but I noticed a change in Ryder right away. Heno longer looked like he had demons haunting him. The late nights he’d spent for years tracking his whereabouts, taking impromptu trips out of town, practically tore us apart. I knew he wanted revenge. I knew it haunted him as much as it did me, but for a while there, it wasn’t healthy. I tried not to live in fear, I had Ryder and the club to protect me, but there was always that notion that one day I’d drop my guard and he’d appear. Even though he never did, it’s as if Ryder didn’t think he’d done a good enough job while Jimmy was still breathing. Slowly, we moved on with our lives. I went to therapy and had rehabilitation because my wrist never healed fully; I still have trouble grabbing things with my right arm. The metal plate I had inserted kept everything working, but it still hurts from time to time.

“Sometimes it’s just hard to forget,” he says. I want to hold him in my arms. Tell him it’s okay.Breathe.I rise from the bath and grab a towel, wrapping it around myself.

“It’s okay to mourn your mom,” I whisper, crouching down. “Even if you hated her.”

“What if I’m happy she’s dead?” He doesn’t really mean that. There’s not a hateful bone in this man’s body.

“Well, that’s an emotion you’re allowed.”

“Why didn’t she tell me she was sick?”

Because she’s a selfish bitch?That might have something to do with it. “She was set in her ways, I guess. Who knows what was going through her head. This isn’t your fault.”

His eyes tip to meet mine. “Tell me we’ll never be like them.”

I frown. “Like who?”

“My parents. My mom and dad fought like cats and dogs before he left. Mom would give him the silent treatment for days. She was a narcissist, and I understand why he left sometimes because she was a nightmare,” he says. “That doesn’t excuse him rippin’ people off and takin’ their hard-earned cash, but she didn’t make his life easy.”

“That isn’t your burden,” I assure him. “That was between your mom and your dad. Not you. You were a child.”

He swallows hard. “I know. I guess it all just came floodin’ back.”

“You know what matters?” I go on, thumping over my chest with my fist. “That you show up for us, your family, the ones who love you. Every single day, you’re out working hard so our son can have a better life, and I love you for that.”

Tears well in my man’s eyes. He’s a tough man, the toughest person I know, but with me he’s always been able to just be himself. And I pride myself in being the only one to see that side of him.

“I love you, too. I’m scared sometimes you’ll find someone better than me and leave.”

I’ve been hearing this as well for a long time. No matter how much I show him and tell him he’s loved, his fears weigh heavily on him. Fear that someone could take something away, or I’d leave, which I never would. He’s the man of my dreams, we’ve just lost our way a little bit.

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