Page 33 of Stick With Me
“Hannah, you can’t be serious,” my mother screeches, bursting into my childhood bedroom without knocking. Her eyes immediately land on the half-packed boxes scattered around. I already know what’s coming, but still, I’m half relieved for the interruption to my thoughts.
To say she’s not happy is an understatement. This is the sixth conversation we’ve had in as many days. My flight is tomorrow morning, yet she’s still trying to convince me that leaving—and, more importantly, moving in with Ryan—is a mistake.
Of course, it’s the wrong decision, according to her. It’s the first decision I’ve made for myself and only for myself in… I can’t even remember how long.
My mother has had a template for my life: go to college, find a nice man, settle down, and support that man, just like her. I don’t think she saw the twist of the man leaving me; to be fair, neither did I. But while I’ve accepted it and recognized the flaws in her logic, she’s yet to come to terms with it. No matter how many times we have this conversation, she refuses to abandon her crusade.
“What do you think Jace is going to think about you living with Ryan? I think moving in pushes even his tolerance for your friendship,” she continues.
I keep going through my clothes, sorting them into keep and donate piles. “It doesn’t matter what Jace thinks because he’s no longer a part of my life. When are you going to accept this?” I try to keep my tone even, but I’m not doing a great job.
She resumes pacing the length of the room. “Hannah, he called me and told me how you didn’t want to talk to him at the event and that you’ve been ignoring his calls. Why don’t you at least hear what he has to say?”
I haven’t been ignoring them, I just haven’t gotten them since I blocked his number. I take a deep breath and try to reason with her, even though I know it’s a lost cause. “I know you thought things were going to go differently. So did I. But things change. I’m moving on. You should, too.”
Clearly not liking that answer, she leaves the room with a huff. Escaping my mother is definitely a perk of moving to Chicago.
I can only imagine what Jace told her, but honestly? I’m not sure I even really care anymore. I’m no longer willing to be the supporting character in my own life, molding myself to fit into someone else’s world. Not anymore.
Stepping out of the rideshare, I glance up at the brownstone and wonder if I’m in the right place. It looks more suited for a family of six than just Ryan and me. I’m momentarily speechless, taking it all in. The three-story, brick-clad beauty is nestled on a tree-lined street in Lincoln Park.
“You must be Hannah,” a peppy brunette greets me. I was so caught up in the sight of my new home that I hadn’t noticed the woman sitting on the steps, waiting for me. She places a keychain in my hand before turning and heading off down the street. As I slide the key into the lock, I notice a cluster of small charms on the ring, each representing one of my favorite things: a palm tree, a paw print, a music note, a teacup, and a heart. Even from states away, Ryan manages to make my welcome memorable.
The front door clicks open into the foyer. To my right, a sweeping oval staircase spirals up to the third floor. I glance up, the warmth of sunlight streams down from the skylight above. To my left is a formal living room, and through an arched opening, I spot a large dining room that connects to the kitchen. Rich walnut cabinets with deep green countertops, maybe soapstone, feel smooth under my palm. There’s a huge island in the middle with seating on one side. A set of French doors leads to a back patio between the kitchen and a cozy family room, complete with a fireplace, gigantic television, and oversized sectional. The whole space feels warm and inviting, so perfect that I want to pinch myself to make sure it’s real.
How the heck did he furnish this place in less than a week?
I head up the stairs in search of my bedroom. On the second floor, I find a home gym, an office, and two guest rooms. Unsure which one is mine, I continue to the top floor. Standing at the banister, I can see down to the first level. There are only two doors up here, one at each end of the hallway. My eyes catch on a piece of paper taped to the door at the far end.
Hannah, I thought you’d like this one best
I push the door open.Likeis an understatement—this is the room of my dreams.
It’s massive, with a four-poster bed centered on one wall and a gas fireplace across from it that turns on with the flick of a switch. Behind the fireplace is a marble bathroom with a huge soaking tub and a walk-in shower. The closet is the size of my old bedroom. If this is mine, I can’t even imagine how nice Ryan’s room must be.
This whole place is on another level and completely unexpected. I only visited his old apartment once, and it was nothing like this. Why on earth does he need something so grand? Not that I’m complaining, but this place feels like it’s meant for a family of six, not a bachelor.
I wander back into the room, checking out the terrace, which overlooks the backyard and garage. Once it’s not freezing outside, I can picture myself up here with a cup of tea or a good book. With a yawn, I make my way to the bed and run my fingers over the soft sheets. It’s only four, but after a day of traveling, I can’t help but hop into bed.I’ll just lay down for a minute.My hand lands on a piece of paper as I spread my arms across the mattress. I grab it and hold it overhead, realizing it’s a paper plane. Ryan must’ve left it for me, and the thought makes me smile. The last thing I remember before drifting off to sleep are thoughts of honey-brown eyes with flecks of green.
When I wake, the room is dark, and an incessant buzzing fills the otherwise quiet space. The glow from my phone is the only light, leaving me disoriented as I swipe the screen. My eyes are still too heavy with sleep to make out the caller ID, but I assume it’s Ryan checking in.
“How’d moving in with your boo go?” Natalie greets, which I’mnotdisappointed by.
I told him I needed some space after the kiss, and God knows I’ve been awkward, but not hearing from him today leaves a funny feeling in my chest.
“Hey, Nat.” I sit up in bed and switch on the nightstand light, blinking against the sudden brightness. “You will not believe this place?—”
“Oh, I’ve seen it. I knew you’d love it,” she says, her voice bubbling with excitement.
She’s seen the place? How is that even possible? Ryan just moved in, and neither of them mentioned she was in town. As a traveling nurse, it’s not unusual for her to move around, but still. I know she stayed with him two years ago during a quick job in Chicago, but as far as I know, she’s been working in Minnesota.
“Oh, really? You’ve been here?” I stand and pace the room.
Back in college, Natalie and Ryan had a thing. I don’t think it was serious; she’s not really the type to do serious, but I know they hooked up at least once after I first introduced them. The thin walls of our dorm suite made that pretty obvious. I never brought it up, and they never mentioned it either, but I know what I heard and still remember the sour feeling it left in my stomach.
“No, I saw pictures. He sent them to me when he was looking at places. But I’m hoping to see it in person soon. I’ll be in town in a couple of weeks for a networking event at Chicago General. Was thinking I could stay with you guys for a couple of days?”
“Yeah, that’d be cool. I’ll just check with Ryan first, since it’s his place.”
