Chapter 13 - Ryan Stopped Asking Me To Decide
For the first two weeks after Jenna left, Ryan slept in the guest room.
Then he rented a furnished apartment six miles away.
His idea.
“I think you need the house.”
I frowned.
“Why?”
“Because every room here has something I put into it without asking.”
I hated that the answer made sense.
“You don't have to leave.”
“I know.”
“Then why?”
He picked up his suitcase.
“I keep watching your face every time I walk into a room.”
That was true.
He continued.
“And then I start trying to fix your face.”
Also true.
“So I'm leaving before I make that another project.”
I almost laughed.
“Who are you?”
“Expensive personal growth.”
“Don't say things like that.”
“Right.”
Too polished.
He nodded.
He left.
No slammed doors.
No ring dramatically abandoned on the counter.
He took his clothes.
Laptop.
Running shoes.
The coffee grinder he claimed was his.
It was.
I let him have it.
Evelyn did not come over.
That might have been the strangest development.
She sent one handwritten note.
Not to me.
To Ryan, apparently, and he forwarded a photo only because I asked whether she'd contacted him.
I won't call Claire. I understand that wanting access is not the same as being owed it.
I told him not to forward anything else unless I asked.
He said okay.
Three weeks passed.
I paid for the truck window.
Ryan sent me the receipt without comment.
I went back to work.
People asked whether everything was okay.
I said family stuff.
Nobody deserved the season finale.
One Saturday, I found Ryan's drill in the garage.
He needed it for his apartment.
I texted:
Your drill is here.
He replied:
Can I pick it up tomorrow at 10?
The question hit me harder than it should have.
Not:
I'll swing by.
Not:
I'm coming over.
Can I?
I wrote:
Yes.
He arrived at ten.
Not 9:45.
Not 10:30.
Ten.
He took the drill.
We stood in the driveway beside the repaired truck.
The glass looked newer than the rest.
“You fixed the dent too.”
“Different incident.”
“What incident?”
“Shopping cart.”
I stared.
He smiled slightly.
“Not everything is betrayal.”
“I'll decide.”
He stopped smiling.
Fair.
Then he said:
“Hannah sent Jenna a photo.”
“I know.”
“Jenna forwarded it to Mom.”
“I know.”
He looked surprised.
“She sent it to you?”
“Jenna did.”
June was asleep against Luke's chest.
Hannah's hand rested on the baby's back.
No caption except:
One week.
I hadn't shown Ryan.
Not deliberately hiding.
It wasn't mine to circulate.
He nodded.
“Good.”
I waited for him to ask.
He didn't.
That felt sad.
Then Ryan said:
“I’m sorry I made you part of an adoption you didn't know existed.”
Not:
I’m sorry you felt excluded.
Not:
I’m sorry everything got messy.
Specific.
I looked at him.
“I believe you.”
His shoulders dropped.
I continued:
“I don't trust you yet.”
They went back up.
“I know.”
“Do you?”
“Yes.”
He looked at the repaired window.
“You smashed my truck because you thought I had a baby with someone.”
“I did.”
“Do you regret that?”
“Yes.”
He seemed surprised.
“Also not enough to pretend the car seat wasn't terrifying.”
“Fair.”
I almost laughed.
Neither of us did.
Then he asked:
“Do you want me to come home?”
My stomach tightened.
The old pressure arrived instantly.
Question.
Answer.
Finality.
I looked at him.
“I don't know.”
He closed his eyes briefly.
Then nodded.
“Okay.”
He took his drill and left.
May you like
No argument.
And somehow that made deciding harder.
