Page 191 of Almost Ours
Before I even realized what I was doing, I was walking toward him, my heart thudding in my chest. Seeing him like this–angry–normally would’ve scared me. But all I saw was panic and desperation for my son, and I felt a swell of pride.
I felt proud of how fiercely he loved Connor, even when he didn’t have to. Proud of how much he was here, despite everything between us being broken.
And if I was honest with myself, panicked, dishevelled Ryan–who would fight the entire hospital to get to Connor–was pretty hot.
The storm outside brought me back from my thoughts. Rain lashed against the window, blurring the streetlights in the parking lot below, while wind howled like it was trying to rip the roof off. A flash of lightning lit up the sky for a brief second before darkness crept back in. It was miserable out there, but in here, with the hum of the hospital monitors and Connor’s steady breathing, it felt… safe.
Ryan sat beside me, his long legs stretched out, a crinkled bag of takeout balanced on his knee. I glanced at him as he passed me a Styrofoam container, the faint smell of greasy fries and roasted chicken making my stomach grumble despite the circumstances.
“No thank you to hospital food,” he muttered, his lips tugging up into a lopsided smile.
I couldn't help but smile back. “Seriously, thank you for this.”
His eyes softened, and for a moment, I could see just how exhausted he was–the faint shadows under his eyes, the tension still clinging to his shoulders. He just nodded, like it was no big deal.
We ate quietly, the three of us. Connor was perched against the raised head of the hospital bed, happily inhaling fries with one hand while clutching the TV remote with the other. Every now and then, I’d glance at him, the steady rise and fall of his chest reassuring me more than any doctor’s words ever could.
And then I’d glance at Ryan, who was sitting there like he belonged, because he did. He always had. I thought about how quickly he’d shown up tonight, how panicked he’d been, and how he’d stayed calm–for me, for Connor–once he saw that things were under control. My chest tightened as I realized how much that meant. How muchhemeant.
When Connor finally drifted off, his soft snores filling the room, I leaned back in my chair, watching the way Ryan adjusted the blanket around him. My heart swelled at the sight, but there was an ache too, sharp and deep.
I couldn’t imagine being here without him. Couldn’t imagine sitting beside anyone else, trying to hold it together while Connor slept, the sounds of the storm filling the silences between us. Ryan had this way of grounding me, even when I didn’t know I needed it. And right now, I needed it more than ever.
“How’s training camp going?” I asked softly, breaking the silence.
Ryan’s head turned toward me, a small smile pulling at the corners of his mouth. “It’s been amazing. The boys… they’re incredible. Watching them push themselves, seeing the way they refuse to let anything hold them back–it’s humbling. I feel so damn lucky to be part of it.”
His voice was warm, full of pride, and I could see how much it meant to him. He was glowing in a way I hadn’t seen in a while.
“That sounds incredible,” I said, my voice tinged with awe. “You’ve always been good at inspiring people, though. I’m not surprised they’re thriving with you there.”
He laughed softly, shaking his head. “I don’t know about all that. They don’t need me to inspire them–they’ve already got that fire. Honestly, it’s me who’s learning from them. They push past things I can’t even imagine… it’s unreal, Harper.”
There was a weight in his voice, something raw and reverent. I could tell how much he respected the players, how much he cared about what he was doing.
“And,” he added, his tone shifting slightly, “they offered me a permanent position with the team.”
I froze, my breath catching in my chest.
“Permanent?” I echoed, the word feeling heavy on my tongue.
He nodded, his eyes searching mine. “Yeah. I’d be travelling a lot, but I’d get to stay with them full-time. It would be a pretty incredible opportunity.”
I hesitated, my mind spinning. “That’s… incredible, Ryan,” I finally said, trying to sound enthusiastic even though my chest felt tight. “I’m happy for you.”
Happy. That’s what I was supposed to feel, right? Proud of him for chasing his dreams, for finding something that made him feel alive. The thought of him being gone, though, of him not being here… it made it impossible to ignore the truth: I couldn’t imagine life without him in it.
He nodded, his gaze lingering on me, like he could sense the hesitation in my voice. “It’s a big change, though. And I don’t know what that means for a lot of things yet.”
“A lot of things?” I repeated, the words barely above a whisper.
He sighed, leaning forward in his chair and resting his elbows on his knees. “It means being away more. Missing things. Maybe missing…” His voice trailed off, and he glanced toward Connor’s bed.
I swallowed hard, trying to keep my voice steady. “You wouldn’t be missing anything important, Ryan. You’re still his person. You always will be.”
His eyes met mine, something unspoken lingering between us. “Yeah, but it’s not just about Connor, Harper.”
I felt my heart stutter, the weight of his words pressing down on me. Did he mean what I thought he meant? Or was I reading too much into it?
