Page 168 of Things I Wish I Said
“The award ceremony, the whole trip really, didn’t exactly go as planned. It’s a long story, and if you don’t mind, I’d rather go into detail later, but . . .” I take a deep breath. “Grayson and I broke up.”
Even though I’m expecting the dagger in my ribs that comes with that statement, it still hurts. Still takes my breath away.
Mom’s face falls. “Oh no. Honey, I’m so sorry. You two were so good together, and I know how much he cared about you.”
“Yeah.” I shrug, though her acknowledgment of his feelings twists the knife a little deeper. “I’m sure you’re probably upset I didn’t at least give you a heads-up that I was leaving early and flying alone, and I’m sorry for that, but I just couldn’t be there any longer.”
I make no mention of how I left him there like a coward, because I knew when he came back and tried to convince me to stay I would.
“And I’m sorry about getting sick. I know the last thing you need are more bills,” I say my throat thick. “I tried to see if they’d discharge me with a prescription,but—”
“Stop that nonsense.” My mother reaches out, cups my face in her hands and meets my eyes. “That is none of your concern.”
“But—”
“No buts. You need meds. We’re getting you the meds. End of discussion.” Mom presses a kiss to the top of my head, then rises to her feet. “I’m going to see if I can find the doctor to talk about your infection, and then I’m going to grab us some coffee. How about you, dear, would you like some tea and honey? It would probably do you some good.”
I nod, grateful for once she’s here. “Yeah, that sounds nice, actually.”
“Good.” She squeezes my hand, then turns and kisses John on the cheek before heading out the door, leaving me alone with him.
I stare down at my hands, the awkward silence stretching between us. The last time I was in the same room as him was the day I overheard him propose to my mother and they acted like it never happened.
He releases a pained sigh, then shuffles toward the chair in the corner of the room. Pulling it forward, he scoots it directly beside the bed, his face a somber mask.
I’m not sure I’ve ever seen him so serious.
“Listen, Ryleigh, I know we never really hit it off. I’m not really sure if I did something wrong or gave you some reason to dislike me, but I’m well aware of where I stand with you. I just”—he glances away from me, and his throat bobs—“I’d really like it if we could try, if you could give me a chance,because I care about your mom a lot. I love her, actually, which means I love you too, even if you want nothing to do with me.”
“It doesn’t really matter what I think, does it? You’ll have my mom all to yourself soon. No need for my blessing when I’ll be out of the picture.”
John frowns, confusion etching a crease in his brow. “I don’t understand.”
“I’m not doing the trial. I’m refusing further treatment, and chemo didn’t work, so . . .”
Shock colors his features. His eyes round, and his mouth goes slack. Looks like I’m not the only one Mom keeps secrets from.
“What are you talking about?” he asks.
“You and Mom. I know you’re engaged. Just like I know you’re waiting for me to either die or get better.” I scoff. “I’m sure it’ll be a hell of a lot quicker if I die.”
John flinches. “Is that what you think I want?”
When I say nothing, he rakes a hand through his hair and mutters a curse under his breath. “If that’s what you think, then I can see why you don’t want anything to do with me.”
He reaches out and takes my hand in his. I almost pull away, but something in his eyes tells me to remain still. “Ryleigh, I want a future with all of you. Your mother, you, and my Katie. When I picture having a family, I picture all of us. I imagine weekends where you come home from college, and we go to dinner or the beach or the movies. I imagine family vacations with all of us. And it’s not just me, but Katie, too. She looks up to you.”
I try to blanket my surprise, but I must fail because John snorts.
“I know my daughter is hard to read. She’s in that tween stage where I never know if she’s going hug me or bite my head off, but she would love to have you as a big sister.”
I shake my head, not wanting to believe it. If he’s right, then it makes me the one in the wrong—the selfish bitch who refused the one person who loves my mother like she deserves. The one person who can give her all the things I can’t. “Then why lie about it?” I ask. “I overheard you guys. You mentioned waiting on me to get engaged and then gave you plenty of chances to tell me, but you didn’t.”
He grimaces, his expression sheepish when he says, “I thought you hated me, and we didn’t want to upset you at a time when you needed to be at your strongest.”
For the first time in my life, I realize my mother is now a “we,” and instead of being mad about it, I’m . . . oddly grateful.
“I also know it’s only ever been you and your mom, and I always got the impression you felt like I was taking her away from you, and I didn’t want you to think that. I guess I foolishly hoped to change your mind about me before we announced the news.”
