Chapter 6 - The Thing Ryan Thought He Was Saving
I met Ryan on the sidewalk.
He got out of the truck.
I held up one hand.
“Stay there.”
He stopped.
Good.
“What are you doing?”
“I needed to make sure Jenna was okay.”
“She is.”
“You don't know that.”
I laughed.
“Listen to yourself.”
He looked toward the Parkers' house.
“Is she inside?”
“Yes.”
“With the baby?”
“Yes.”
His jaw tightened.
“Claire.”
“What?”
“We cannot let this become irreversible because everyone is angry.”
“We?”
His face changed.
I stepped closer.
“There is no we in Jenna's adoption decision.”
“I’m her brother.”
“Yes.”
“I’m allowed to care.”
“You're allowed to care. You are not allowed to counterfeit consent.”
“I did not counterfeit anything.”
“You told them we might adopt her.”
He went quiet.
“That was a possibility.”
“To you.”
He looked at me.
“To us.”
“No.”
His frustration broke through.
“You wanted a family.”
“Past tense?”
“You know what I mean.”
“No. I don't think you know what you mean anymore.”
He rubbed both hands over his face.
“I watched you fall apart for three years.”
I went still.
“I watched every pregnancy announcement hit you.”
“Careful.”
“I watched you pack away that room.”
“Ryan.”
“I watched you say you were done because you couldn't take another failure.”
“Stop.”
He did.
Breathing hard.
The words were not cruel on purpose.
That almost made them worse.
I said:
“You think you were saving me.”
His eyes filled.
“I thought maybe something good could come out of a bad situation.”
I stared.
“Jenna's baby is not our consolation prize.”
“I know.”
“Do you?”
His voice cracked.
“I thought if you held her—”
I stepped back.
He stopped.
There it was.
Not adoption law.
Not family duty.
A private scene he'd already written.
Claire holds baby.
Claire changes.
Jenna sees family home.
Everybody stays connected.
Pain becomes purpose.
Ryan wins by making sure nobody gets the chance to say no before the happy ending appears.
“You thought if I held her, what?”
He stared at me.
“You'd want her.”
I nodded slowly.
“And then?”
He didn't answer.
“And then what, Ryan?”
“Jenna might feel better about keeping her in the family.”
Not keeping the baby.
Keeping her in the family.
I looked back at the house.
“How long have you been thinking we might adopt?”
“Since Jenna told me.”
Four months.
While I had been sleeping beside him.
Buying groceries.
Discussing whether we should repaint the office.
He had carried a possible child through our marriage alone.
“Why didn't you ask me?”
He looked down.
I knew the answer before he said it.
“Because you'd ask what Jenna wanted.”
I almost laughed.
“Yes.”
“And I thought she was scared.”
“She is scared.”
“Exactly.”
“So you replaced her fear with your certainty?”
He looked at me angrily.
“I’m not the villain because I didn't want my niece adopted by people we don't know.”
“Hannah and Luke have known Jenna for five months.”
“That doesn't make them family.”
The front door opened.
Jenna stood there holding the baby.
She had heard enough.
“Stop saying that.”
Ryan turned.
She walked down the path.
“You keep saying family like it's a court order.”
“Jenna.”
“No.”
She stood beside me.
“Do you know why I chose Hannah and Luke?”
Ryan looked away.
“You never asked.”
“I asked.”
“You asked why I wouldn't let you take her.”
He flinched.
Jenna continued.
“They were the only people I met who didn't tell me what kind of mother a good person would be.”
Silence.
Ryan said:
“I never called you bad.”
“No.”
She looked at him.
“You just keep acting like my decision is evidence I don't know myself.”
He didn't answer.
Hannah remained in the doorway.
Not joining us.
Smart.
Jenna said:
“I’m staying here tonight.”
Ryan immediately said:
“That isn't—”
He stopped himself.
We all heard it.
He looked down.
Then said:
“Okay.”
Jenna nodded.
One word.
No reward.
I looked at Ryan.
“You're going home.”
“What about you?”
“I don't know.”
His face tightened.
That answer frightened him.
He reached into his pocket and held out my house keys.
I stared.
“What is that?”
“You smashed my truck.”
“Yes.”
“You're furious.”
“Yes.”
“I don't know if you want me in the house.”
For once, he was asking before walking through a door.
I took the keys.
Not as punishment.
Because I genuinely did not know.
He drove away with plastic flapping over the broken window.
Jenna watched until he turned the corner.
Then she whispered:
“He really thought you would say yes.”
I looked at the newborn in her arms.
“So did you.”
She nodded.
“Yes.”
May you like
I stared at the tiny face.
And the worst part was that neither of them had been completely wrong.
