Tomorrow at the charity game, I'll see her. And somehow I have to find the words to tell her that I'm done being my father's son. Done choosing safety over everything that matters.
I set the album down. Head for the shower. Start figuring out what to say.
If she'll give me the chance to prove it.
Lucy
I'm reorganizing the holiday display for the third time this morning when Emma finds me crying behind a tower of gift baskets.
Not delicate tears either. The ugly kind, where my nose runs and my face gets blotchy and I can't catch my breath. I've been holding it together for three days. Smiling at customers. Answering questions about the charity game. Pretending I'm fine when every part of me aches.
"Oh, honey." Emma's arms come around me before I can wipe my face. "How long have you been here?"
"Since six." My voice comes out thick. "Couldn't sleep."
She guides me to the reading nook and disappears. Returns with coffee from next door and one of Natalie's chocolate croissants. Waits until I've taken a bite before speaking.
"Have you talked to him?"
I shake my head. Swallow past the tightness in my throat. "He left. He gets to decide what happens next."
"Lucy." Her tone shifts, gentle but unyielding. "When have you ever waited for someone else to decide your worth?"
The question hits hard. I set down the croissant, hands trembling.
"What am I supposed to do? Chase after him?"
"No. Tell him what you need. Not what you'll settle for. What you actually need." She leans forward. "You spent your whole life making yourself smaller so other people would be comfortable. Your dad who didn't know how to connect with you. Your exes who wanted the sunshine version but couldn't handle anything real. Even Connor sometimes."
My eyes burn with fresh tears. "What if Connor was right? What if I was just convenient?"
"Do you really believe that?"
I think about the way he touched my face when I told him I loved him. The photo album he kept by his bed. How he gave me fifteen thousand dollars for my building without hesitation. And how he saved the charity hockey game.
"No," I whisper.
"Then stop acting like you do." Emma's voice turns fierce. "When are you going to fight for yourself?"
All these years, I've been waiting. For some guy to decide I was worth the effort. For Ryder to choose me without making him face what he's running from.
But I've been choosing him all along. Choosing to love him when it was complicated. When it frightened me. When Connor said I was making a mistake.
I've been brave about everything except demanding what I deserve.
"I need to talk to him." The decision feels final. "Not to beg. To tell him I'm worth fighting for."
Emma's smile is proud. "There she is."
I finish the coffee. My hands steady. My breathing evens.
"The charity game is tomorrow. He'll be at the rink today, practicing."
"Then go." Emma stands, pulls me up with her. "Whatever happens, you'll be okay."
She's right. I've survived worse than heartbreak.
But god, I hope I don't have to.
