Riot clears his throat and says, “I’m sorry I didn’t tell you, but it never felt like it was my story to tell.”
Staring out the window, I huff. “That’s funny, Logan just said something similar. But the problem with that is nobody considered that I deserved the entire story. That’s not fair.”
“I know. Do you want to talk about it?” he rumbles, thumb tapping to the beat of the music on the steering wheel as he drives.
Turning my head to look at his profile, I sigh. “I don’t know, it all feels really big right now, and I need a minute to process it.”
He glances at me briefly and nods. “I understand. I’ll be here when you are ready.”
Shifting in my seat, I turn and really look at him. His long wavy brown hair is down and his stubble is a little longer tonight. He looks like he walks out of a Carhartt catalogue every day and tonight is no exception.
“What?” He furrows his brows then looks back to the dark road ahead of us.
“You have always been there for me, haven’t you?” I question curiously.
“Sure, I guess so,” he mumbles, shrugging his large shoulder.
“No, seriously, Riot. I’m angry at you right now because you kept this from me, but you have always supported me; I could always count on you.”
“I don’t want you to ever doubt my loyalty to you. You are one of my closest friends and I love you. But I also made him a promise.” He glances at me with a sad smile. “I kept his confidence even when I thought he was stupid and didn’t want to. Logan asked me to look out for you, but I would have done it anyways.”
“Pfft, he could have done it himself if he chose to,” I puff out, shaking my head and rolling my eyes in the dark cab of the truck. Pulling the long sleeves of my sweater over my hands, I wrap them around my body. He leans forward and adjusts the heat for me before continuing.
“I know you don’t want to hear this right now, but I would like you to try and listen with an open mind.” When I slightly nod, he continues, “He agonized over the decision to break up with you, so don’t think for one moment it was spontaneous. He thought letting you go was the right thing to do and he lost a part of himself when he did. There was no Logan without you, so he tried to reinvent himself, but it still wasn’t enough. No amount of change, time, or distance could make him forget the love he has for you.”
When I don’t respond, he continues, “I don’t think I have ever said this before, but I have always been proud of you.”
Furrowing my brow, I question, “I don’t understand, why are you proud of me?”
“You don’t give yourself enough credit. I watched you fall apart when your dad died, and when Logan left. But even while supporting your mom and managing a business, you did whatyou needed to do. I know it was hard, and I know you struggled, but you still did the work. You went to therapy; you built a solid support system around you and your mom. Most people wouldn’t have made it through that.”
Huffing a laugh. “Therapy was non-negotiable. Ryan gave me a major push in that direction.”
“Thank god for that,” he teases before continuing. “I know you were disappointed in not being able to go back to school, but you handled it and instead of wallowing, you rediscovered your passion for art. Now you share that knowledge and passion with others. You have no idea what a privilege it has been to be a part of it.”
Flipping on the turn signal, Riot pulls onto the gravel road that takes us to my house. He reduces his speed as the truck bounces over the ruts. When he pulls into my driveway and parks the truck, I say, “Riot, I think you have said more in the past five minutes than you have said in five months.”
“I was saving it all up for you,” he says as he pushes the hair back from his face and grins.
“Thank you, for everything. You are a good man, and I promise I won’t stay mad at you for long.”
“I appreciate that, but before you go, can I request one thing? If you are willing to extend that forgiveness to me, can you try and extend it to Logan as well?” I narrow my eyes at him, and he smirks shaking his head before saying, “At least consider it. You should also talk to your mom. Really talk to her.”
“That’s two things,” I mumble, taking off my seatbelt and placing my hand on the door handle.
“It’s been long enough. Grace isn’t as fragile as she used to be. I think you need to have a real conversation with her about the past. All of it,” he says. Leaning his left forearm on the steering wheel, he turns to meet my eyes.
Swallowing, I look down at my lap before answering quietly. “She’s finally in a good place. Mason makes her so happy. I know she’s stronger than I ever gave her credit for, but what if talking about Dad and everything that surrounded his death triggers her? I don’t want to hurt her.”
“And what if talking about it is healing for both of you? Just think about it, okay?”
“I will. Thank you for bringing me home, I’m glad you waited around.”
Looking up, he snorts and raises his chin towards the house. “I guess you are taking too long to go inside.” Turning my head to where he’s looking, I see Beck, Claire, and Meg standing outside on my deck in their pyjamas with blankets draped around their shoulders.
“Why are they all here? How?” I question, smiling for the first time in a few hours.
“I thought an emergency ‘book club’ meeting seemed like a good idea.” He chuckles as he uses his fingers to air quote.
