Page 84 of Fake Date with the Mountain Man

“Sure.”

He stands up and stretches while I try not to stare at the row of abs that are revealed between his shirt and jeans.

I fail.

Ryan is gone longer this time. My stomach rumbles, and I consider following him to the cafeteria to find some food. Just then, a gray-haired man in scrubs walks into the waiting room.

“Are you here for Rosemary Stephens?” he asks.

“Yes, I’m her daughter. How is she?”

“Stable,” he sighs as if it is the first real breath he’s taken all day. “She’s going to be okay. It will take some time for her to recover completely. One of our speech therapists will stop by later to evaluate her. We’re running a few tests and then you’ll be able to go see her.”

“Is that the normal course of treatment for patients who overdose?” I ask.

“Overdose?” the doctor repeats. “Drugs weren’t a factor in your mother’s stroke. I suppose previous long-term narcotics abuse could have contributed, but this stroke was not a direct result of any drug use, and certainly not of an overdose.”

“Are you sure?” I ask, more surprised than I would like to admit.

“I’m quite sure. If it were an overdose, we would be dealing with a lot more than a stroke.”

“Okay, thank you for your time, doctor,” I say.

Embarrassment creeps over my cheeks. I shouldn’t have assumed that my mother overdosed. She’s been clean for six years now. I need to start trusting her. The realization hits me hard in the chest at the exact moment that Ryan walks into the room.

I hold his gaze, even as the corners of my eyes burn with unshed tears. Ryan’s brows pull together as he tries to decipher my expression. He’s trying to figure out if the news is good or bad. By the way he rushes to my side a second later, I'm guessing he thinks it’s bad news. His hand is at my back, fingers hovering at my waist. If I collapse, he’ll be there to catch me. And I might collapse, but not for the reason Ryan thinks.

“You’re welcome to go see her, but I would honestly prefer that she rest for now,” the doctor says testily.

“Okay, I can come back later then.”

The doctor nods and trots off down the hall. Ryan takes a step away, dropping his hand from my waist. He holds out his opposite hand, clutching a plain white paper bag.

“It’s a muffin…in case you’re hungry,” he says.

Ignoring the bag, I turn on my heel to square off with Ryan. His face is tense with concern, but his eyes are tired.

“Ryan, we need to talk.”

These words seem to jolt him awake but do nothing for the tension in his jaw. He gives a stiff, reluctant nod and follows me out of the waiting room, down the hallway, and out to the car. We drive back to the hotel in silence, which continues even after the door of our room clicks shut behind us. Neither of us sits. Ryan shoves his hands in his pockets and doesn’t quite meet my eyes.

I know what I need to say, but the words don’t come easily. I’ve messed things up with Ryan so many times now that I’m not sure how to fix it. Maybe it isn’t fixable, but I need to try. At the very least, I owe him an apology.

Then I feel it again – the threat of tears burning at the corners of my eyes. The heat of my cheeks and chest as I flush with panic. The lump at the base of my throat where all the words are caught.

When the first tear breaks free and tumbles down my cheek, Ryan is already there, wrapping me up in his broad arms. I melt into him, letting the tears fall freely onto his chest. I fall apart at the possibility that I won’t get to do this for the rest of my life.

“Hey,” Ryan whispers, “come here.”

He’s pulling me towards the bed I slept in last night, laying down, and arranging us so that he’s sitting up with me curled against his chest. One hand is at my back and the other brushes hair away from my face.

I cry until there isn’t a drop of moisture left in my entire body. When I’m finally quiet, Ryan asks if I’m okay.

“I messed everything up,” I mutter against his chest.

“What do you mean?” Ryan asks softly after a few seconds pass.

I straighten up against him, leaning away to look at him. Ryan’s hands fall away and I immediately miss their comfort. Choking down a sob, I try to push the words past my lips without falling apart again.

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