Ginny gulped. A giant air bubble lodged itself in her sternum. “Ryan, I… I need to talk to you.”
His grip on her loosened, and he stepped past, over the threshold to her apartment. “I can hear…. That’s… that’s a record.”
“Yeah. It is,” she said, admitting one tiny truth.
Ryan looked around the apartment with fresh eyes. “It’s clean in here. You… you’re neat,” he declared, like an accusation.
Her voice shook. “I…”
He walked tentatively towards the record player with Ginny at his heels and her hand around his wrist, hoping she might hold him back—protect him—from the hurt she was sure to impose. Ryan’s eyes skimmed the room until they landed on the friendship bracelet only a few feet away, laying on top of a stack of letters in Ryan’s handwriting.
Ryan’s hand shook as he picked up the letters, grasping them so tightly, the papers crinkled with the action. “You—”
“I wanted to tell you, Ryan. I’m so sorry… that’s why I—”
“It was you… You showed up… You let me think…” He dropped the papers on the table and briskly turned, taking a step away from her and disengaging himself from her grip. “You lied.”
“I’m sorry. If we could just talk, I’ll explain everything.” Rapid, hot tears fell down her cheeks. She grabbed for his hand—his arm—anything to keep him close, but Ryan whipped out of her reach.
He ran his hands through his hair as a sheen of moisture and emotion reddened his eyes. “I have to get out of here.”
“Wait! Ryan!” She chased after him. “Please, let’s talk.”
But without another word, Ryan turned his back on her and walked out of her loft, not bothering to slam the door or stompdown the stairs in retaliation. His silence speaking loud and clear.
19
CHECK YES OR NO
GEORGE STRAIT
Melody Man,
I’m sorry. I should’ve told you about a thousand times over the last week that I knew who you were. That when I saw you sitting in the pavilion the night of the festival with a record at your side and our friendship bracelet around your wrist, I couldn’t believe you were the “one”. The man who’d worked his way into my heart with words and lyrics, friendship and faith. I should have told you. I know that.
But,MMRyan, I was so afraid. Afraid you’d reject me again. We’d just kissed the week before, and I’d felt like the Lord gave me peace about us. That seeking Him first, likeMelody Manyou and I wrote about—what we prayed about. That was the path I should take.
But then you were there and you were… you.
And although it's the truth, it was wrong. I’m more ashamed of my actions—of this huge misstep—than I can possibly say. And all I can do is beg for your forgiveness. I’m sorry.
I know I can’t make it right, but I am so very sorry.
Mood Music… Gin
“You look like you got hit by a garbage truck little sister.” Dakota wrapped Ginny in his arms and pulled her into his flannel-clad chest.
Ginny let her emotions flood her again, crying muffled tears into Dakota’s hug, and felt Sadie’s dainty arms wrap her into a Ginny-sandwich, hugging her from her back.
“I messed up.” Ginny sobbed into her brother, knowing the rest of her family was nearby and already privy to her colossal mistake. She’d driven home to her Mama and Daddy the night before, confessed everything that’d happened between her and Ryan, and received nothing but understanding, fervent prayers, and reinforcements in the shape of a slumber party with her sisters, who cuddled her through the night and reassured her over and over again that they were with her.
“We’re here,” Sadie affirmed, shushing into her hair. “And you look like a waterlogged mermaid straight from a fantasy novel, so you’ve got that goin’ for you.”
Ginny giggled through tears and swiped her swollen eyes with her hands. “I can’t believe I have to take pictures like this today. I’m a mess.”
“And I can’t believe Mama made us wear matchin’ flannel today.”
“You look good in flannel,” Sadie said, wrapping herself under Dakota’s arm after releasing Ginny.
