That was fine. I could cope with being numb. It was better than the alternative.
Opening my wardrobe, I found a single T-shirt hanging there. I stared at it for a long while. It was what I’d been wearing the night Ryan and I first kissed. When we’d agreed to give things a go. When I’d promised to keep us a secret.
Of all the promises I’d broken, that was the one I regretted the most.
I hadn’t taken it with me when I left for basic. It was too much of a reminder of what might’ve been. Of how I’d fucked up the best thing ever to happen to me.
I hadn’t been able to get rid of it either. Not that I’d ever expected to be back here, in this room. Or that Frank would’ve preserved my teenage memories in this way.
But I was, and he had.
Gently removing it from the hanger, I smoothed the material between my fingers. My eyes burned, but no tears fell. God, I could remember that night like it was yesterday. The smoke-filled room. A girl in my arms. Looking up to see Ryan.
The hurt on his face.
It hadn’t been the first time I’d put it there. It wasn’t the last either.
He’d forgiven me then. He’d forgiven me later.
But, unlike that night, he wasn’t choosing me now. He wasn’t prepared to risk everything by betting on us.
The worst part? I couldn’t even blame him for it. Not after everything I’d put him through. That didn’t mean I could accept it. I hadn’t lied when I told Ryan I’d wait for him forever.
Until that day arrived, I’d have the memories to keep me company.
Like that’ll be enough. How are you going to cope seeing Ryanday after day? Kate? Surely they’ll be living together. What if they move into Ryan’s place? What will you do then?
The material bunched in my hands. Honestly, I didn’t know the answer to any of those questions. Wasn’t like I’d bothered to ask Ryan about their plans. Why would I, when I’d been utterly convinced he’d choose me?
But he hadn’t.
God, he hadn’t.
Collapsing on the edge of my bed, I brought the T-shirt up to my face and inhaled deeply. Like that alone might take me back to that night. There was so much I’d do differently if I could.
Starting with putting Ryan first. That was what I should’ve done. That was what he deserved.
Instead I’d sidelined his feelings, and I’d been paying the price ever since.
A sob shuddered through me, disproving my theory that I had no more tears left to cry. I wept, unashamed, sat on the bed from my childhood, the shirt I’d once considered a trophy absorbing my heartbreak.
A tapping noise pierced my sorrow. I cleared my throat and forced myself to speak. “Not now, Frank.”
I might be receptive to letting him back into my life, but I couldn’t deal with him in this state.
The tapping came again. More insistent this time.
“Frank, fuck off.”
“Dom, love, let me in.”
My shoulders tensed. That wasn’t my father’s voice. Wasn’t coming from the doorway either.
Slowly, ever so slowly, I raised my head. Tears clouded my vision, but that was definitely Ryan Davies peering through my window. Concern battled with heartache on his face, deepening as he met my gaze. “Can you open the window, baby? Please?”
I got to my feet in a daze. My hand moved automatically to unlatch the window, and Ryan ducked out of the way as I swung it wide.
“I wanted to pop it open like you used to,” Ryan said breathlessly. “But Frank had them replaced a few years ago. Totally rained on my romance plans.”
