“My thoughts exactly, but then he shocked the hell out of me when he apologized.”
My head pops up, and I narrow my eyes. I didn’t know he knew how to say sorry.
“Pretty well knocked me off my chair.” She laughs to herself. “Anyway, I think I surprised him when I told him what an ass Braden had been over the last several months. Of course, he had no idea. Took everything he said as fact instead of asking you what was going on.”
Her shoulders drop, and she sighs. “He would like to talk to you, but I told him to wait and that you would reach out when you were ready. I hope that was the right thing to say.”
“That’s fine. I’m glad you told him, but I’m not ready to talk to him yet.”
“I understand.” She pats my hand. “You take all the time you need. He can wait.”
“Thank you,” I say softly. “You’ve always had my back, and I really appreciate it.”
“I wouldn’t have it any other way, Sunshine. I’ve always loved you like you’re my own.”
I let her words sink in, my throat tightening with emotion. “I love you too.”
“I’m going to get out of your hair and let you eat your dinner. If you want to talk, you know where to find me. I’m proud of you, Sunshine.”
She rises, gives me a quick kiss on my forehead, and gathers her outerwear and leaves as quickly as she came.
I let the warmth of her words sink in. A quiet reminder of how lucky I am to have her in my life.
When the door closes behind her, Ryan emerges from the kitchen.
“Is everything okay?” he asks, rubbing the back of his neck.
“Yeah, I think so.” I scratch the side of my head. “She called my dad to tell him off.”
“Oh?” He furrows his eyebrows. “I’m having a difficult time imagining her being angry at anyone. Except with Brian.”
“Everyone gets angry with Brian, though,” I say, yawning. Fuck, I am tired.
“How about we have something to eat, then I can draw you a bath? If you aren’t too tired, we can watch one of your documentaries,” he suggests, running his hand over the back of my head.
“That sounds like a perfect evening to me.” I stand and loop my arms around his neck. He dips his head and captures my lips in a slow, tender kiss. Maybe we can skip the documentary and go straight to bed.
Forty-Three
Leaning against the doorframe of Ryan’s office, I watch him type, his attention fixed on the screen in front of him. Shoulders square, jaw set, brows drawn together in concentration. His hair is still perfectly styled, as if he hadn’t touched it since he left this morning.
So serious.
At work, he’s the one everyone leans on. The one who listens without judgement. Who helps carry things people can’t carry themselves.
With me, I get the pieces that few people see. The version of him that doesn’t need to be perfect and on all the time. The one who is learning he doesn’t have to fix everything for me. And I’m learning that it’s okay to ask him for help when I need it.
At home he trades in his button-down shirts for sweats and band T-shirts. Sometimes a beanie or a ball cap when he doesn’t want to deal with his hair. His once clean-shaven face is now covered with a short beard that suits him. His laugh comes more easily. Unfiltered.
He just gets to be himself. And I love that he trusts me enough to let me see it.
“Knock, knock,” I say, entering the room and closing the door softly behind me.
His eyes light up and dimples pop the second he sees me. The tension leaves his face as if I just flipped a switch. He pulls off his glasses, tossing them onto the desk without seeing where they land.
“There you are,” he says, already pushing his chair back as he stands and walks to me. “How did it go?” His fingers weave through mine as he leads me to the couch.
I suppose it would be inappropriate for me to straddle his lap while he’s at work.
