Page 180 of Almost Ours
“Look, I get it. Ryan’s not perfect. None of us are. But he’s a good guy. The best guy I know.” He trailed off, a small smile tugging at his lips. Then he stood, patting me on the shoulder. “Think about it, Harp. Ryan deserves that much.”
And with that, he walked away, leaving me sitting on the bench with my thoughts swirling like a storm.
I sat there on the bench long after Shane had left, his words looping through my head, unraveling everything I thought I knew.
Ryan hadn’t hurt Kyle. Not intentionally. Not even close. And yet, he had carried the weight of it all like a punishment he thought he deserved.
I let out a slow breath and finally pushed myself up, my legs stiff as I grabbed our coffee and started the walk back to the house. The morning air felt heavier now, thick with all the things I couldn’t quite process.
By the time I stepped inside, closing the door softly behind me, the quiet pressed in. The air was still, carrying the faint scent of coffee and cinnamon from yesterday morning. I slipped off my shoes, hung my jacket on the hook, and stood there for a beat, my mind still spinning.
Thank God Nina was still asleep. I needed the silence, needed a minute to sort through the whirlwind of thoughts pounding in my skull.
I crept past the stairs and sank onto the couch, my elbows on my knees, my head in my hands.
What the fuck?
I couldn’t get Shane’s words out of my head, couldn’t reconcile them with everything I’d thought I knew. Ryan didn’t hurt Kyle. And he’d beendevastated. He lost his mom, his career, his reputation–and I had added to the pile.
A low groan escaped as I dragged my hands through my hair. The weight of it all settled in my chest, making it hard to breathe.
I didn’t blame him for leaving for this hockey thing. How could I? I hadn’t exactly rolled out the welcome mat for him these past few months. Sure, I let him see Connor, but the wall I’d put up between us had been impenetrable.
He’d tried, though–God, he tried.
I thought back to all the things he’d done. The way he showed up, unasked, to help Connor with his homework when I was too exhausted to explain fractions for the hundredth time. The way he put gas in my lawnmower last month, leaving a cold bottle of water on the porch when he left. The way he fixed the leaky bathroom faucet when I casually mentioned it was broken.
He never pushed, never demanded anything from me. He just… cared. In the quiet, steady way that only Ryan could.
And I hadn’t appreciated any of it. Notoneof those little gestures.
I dropped my head back against the couch, staring at the ceiling as tears pricked my eyes.What the fuck have I been doing?
The realization hit me like a punch to the gut.
All this time, I had convinced myself that I was protecting myself. Protecting Connor. That keeping Ryan at arm’s length was the right thing to do.
But the truth was, I had been a coward.
Because deep down, I knew.
I still loved him. I never stopped loving him.
A bitter laugh escaped me, sharp in the quiet of the room. Of course, he was leaving. Why wouldn’t he? I hadn’t given him a single reason to stay.
But the thought of him leaving town, walking out of my life–even if it was temporary–made my chest ache. I wanted to scream. To tell him to stay. Tell him I was an idiot, that I had made a colossal mistake.
I couldn’t do that, though. Not now. Not when he had finally found something good in his life. Something he was excited about. Something he deserved.
The tears spilled over, hot and unchecked, as the last few months replayed in excruciating detail. I had put all the blame on him. And he just… accepted it.
He let me push him away. He let me believe the worst of him because, deep down, he thought he deserved it.
My throat tightened. He didn’t deserve any of it. Not the media’s lies. Not the fans’ betrayal. Not the icy distance I’d kept between us.
Not any of it.
I swiped at my face, but the tears kept coming, each one dragging me deeper into the mess I had created.
