Page 59 of Milked

It was too much to text, so I quietly left Ryder’s room and stepped out to where I could talk. His roommates all looked at me strangely, probably because I was still in my underwear.

“He’s… grieving,” I told them. “I have experience in it, but he hasn’t really spoken about it either, except to mention someone died a year ago yesterday.”

“Is there anything we can do?” Luna asked.

“It’s hard to say. Everyone grieves differently. I think Ryder has been burying his pain, but apparently, it was the anniversary of the loss, so it hit him, probably fresh in his mind again. I need to call… Mr. Porter, who’s his boss and my stepfather. He needs to know Ryder won’t be coming into work for a while.”

I stepped outside onto their little balcony and closed the glass door behind me. The early October evening was chilly, but I didn’t want to bother with clothes for the moment.

I quickly called Father before he got mad at me. His texts were bordering on obsessive.

“What the hell is going on?” he answered.

“Sorry, Father. I’ve been trying to console Ryder. He’s grieving, is what’s going on. But apparently, he hasn’t told anyone about it. Not even his roommates knew what was happening. They were all worried about him when I arrived.”

“Dammit. I knew something was off with him. As the days went on, he was slipping more and more. It’s only when we have our fun that he opens up again.”

I’d noticed, but I didn’t think much of it.

“It’s clear he needs us, Father.”

“Jesus… he really does. Bring him to the house. I’ll be home shortly. We’ll take care of our sweet boy.”

“I’ll try. He’s been pretty catatonic, and now he’s sleeping.”

“I want him home with us. Do what you can.”

“Yes, Father.”

We hung up, and I stepped back inside the apartment. I walked into the kitchen, opening cabinets until I found a glass, and then poured Ryder some water.

When I went back into his room, being careful not to knock the door onto the ground, I found him rolled over, facing the doorway, now awake and looking at me.

“I thought you left,” he said, his voice raspy.

“Not on your life.”

I sat on the bed and held out the glass for him. “Sit up and drink, please. Then we’re going to get you dressed so I can take you to the house. Father and I are going to take care of you.”

“You shouldn’t have to. That’s not what you brought me in for.”

“Stop it,” I said gently. “You matter to us more than the sex. Father and I are very worried about you, and we want to take care of you. We both know what it’s like to lose someone dear to us. If anyone can help you get through this, it’s us. Please, baby.”

His eyes watered again, but he didn’t fight me when I pulled him to sit up and fed him water. It spilled a little down his bare chest, so I wiped it up with his sheet.

“Stay. I’m going to grab some clothes and pack a bag for you.”

I found a duffle bag in his closet and filled it with some underwear, socks, a pair of joggers, a pair of pajama bottoms, a couple of T-shirts, and toiletries.

After getting him dressed, I tugged on his arm to get him to stand. He was lethargic and had no energy. I reminded myself to see if I could get him to eat when we got home.

I held his hand and carried the bag, leading him out of his room.

“Someone will swing by to fix the door. I apologize.”

“It’s okay,” Emma said. “We probably should’ve done the same.”

“Take care of our Ryder,” Luna said.

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