I’m desperately trying to catch up to what she’s saying. Merit’s wanted Ryan for a while—that must be why he was able to make the new gig happen so fast after Kissgate. “I mean, that kissdidthreaten his job at Woodsworth. It was smart of him—necessary, even—to line something else up.”
“Oh, he didn’t call them after that photo went viral—it was after yourfirstkiss. In Seattle, I think it was?”
What?He planned on switching jobs because we kissedone time? My pulse is running a marathon as I think of Ryan’s strict adherence to professional boundaries—until I plowed right through them. Did he reach out to Merit out of guilt? Because he’d behaved inappropriately?
Or was he trying to eliminate the obstacle in the way of something happening between us? Not knowing I’d be a whole other, insurmountable one…
It was just a kiss, though. We hadn’t even slept together yet…I hadn’t explained yet that I didn’t want anything serious. Did he, even then?
I definitely don’t feel casual about you. I never have.
He’s had a crush on you forever.
My heart is banging against my rib cage like a wrongfully convicted prisoner as I try to make sense of it all. I know I’m fooling myself if I think that kiss was just a kiss, when really it was like opening the fucking gates of heaven. Even I felt the promise in it…even if I told myself I didn’t.
“But he kept his distance,” I say, my voice strangled. “Like when we were with you in San Francisco—he was still toeing the company line.”
“Well, he hadn’t secured the new job yet by then. He was still in talks with them—I know because he took meetings from my apartment and bored me half to death talking aboutstrategic management.” She makes a fart sound through her lips. “Plus he was worried about making you uncomfortable—he was still your publicist at that point.”
As the haze begins to clear, Ryan’s concern about my discomfort drifts to the surface. I sigh inwardly at his chivalry. “I guess it wasn’t secure yet by the time that photo spread online, either. He was so worried about getting fired.”
“Oh yeah, I mean, it’s never a good look to be caught kissing a client. He didn’t know if the photo would affect the new job, either, and we can’t afford for him to havenojob. But he told Merit it wasn’t tawdry, and they’d already talked to some of the authors he’s worked with as references, who all praised him for being super professional. So I guess he got a pass.”
I throw up a silent thank-you to the universe that Kissgate didn’t rain shit on his reputation. Chalk it up to the patriarchy that men can get away with something like that as long as they have strong character references otherwise. At least in Ryan’s case, he’s earned that honor.
“I thought he took the new job because it would give him more time to write.” I was so gratified, thinking our acquaintance had given him the push he needed. He didn’t deny it, or tell me any of the things Celine’s telling me now. But then, he wouldn’t have. He knew I was skittish as a squirrel, that any pressure would send me sprinting for the highest tree. Knew I’d perceive his leaving Woodsworth to clear the path for something real with me as level-ten pressure. He would have been right.
But I don’t think he’d be right anymore.
Celine makes a sympathetic sound on the other end of the line. “I’m not saying that’s not part of it, but it’s all wrapped up together. Ana, he never would have taken that plunge to prioritize his writing if not for you. He’s just never given space to what he wants, you know? But it’s like he’s seeing everything differently now. Because of you.”
My spine gives out, and I crumple back into the couch cushions.
“Which,yay,” she says. “Because now you guys can finally be together!”
My head is swimming, drowning, gasping for air as it tries to stay afloat in the churning waters of all this new information. All the bits and pieces coming together to form the larger picture, this beautiful, sweeping watercolor, bright and vivid in the light. Ryan had feelings for me, but didn’t act on them. Kept them under strict lock and key, just as he did his creative dreams. Centered his sister’s needs, like the responsible father figure he’s always been to her.
There’s no help for my makeup, it’s a lost cause. I’ll be puff pastry tonight. I can’t stop the tears that stream down my face, my running mascara making Rorschach splotches on my skin.
He always does that. Denies himself, puts himself last.
The words are sharp, acute, a scalpel slitting a vital organ. He denied himself for my sake too. Wanted a relationship but settled for just (the best-ever) sex. Put my needs first. Even when my needs hurt him.
He may be his own worst enemy, but I’m no better.
And poor Celine thinks we’re a couple. Doesn’t know about the fallout. Ryan hasn’t told her. I feel guilty revealing something he maybe didn’t want to share with her yet, but I also feel guilty lying to her.
At last, I relent. Let the chips fall where they may.
“We’re…not together,” I say.
There’s a long pause. Then: “Why not?” she asks, such innocence in the question that I have an instinct to tuck her away in a nest and keep her safe from the world.
“I…I couldn’t,” I croak.
She’s silent for a moment. “Oh.” Then, knowingly, “Is it ’cause he’s such a dork?”
My laugh, if you can call it that, sounds pained. “He’s not a dork.”
