by Meghan Quinn
“A huge one,” I answer and walk over to the couch where I crawl onto the cushions, bringing the bottle to my mouth once again. Once I take a long pull, I hold it up to Stryder and say, “Tick tock, this beer is going fast.”
He pecks Rory on the cheek and says, “Don’t get started without me. Just stare at each other until I get back. Five minutes.” He bolts out of the house, leaving me alone with Rory.
“Do we really have to stare at each other?” I ask her as she slowly lowers herself to a chair.
“I don’t think so. That would be weird.” Instinctively, she rubs her belly and after a short silence she says, “Being pregnant is fun.”
“Looks like it. I hope you’re giving Stryder hell.”
She smiles. “I am when I get a chance. He’s been amazing actually. He’ll massage my feet without me asking, goes to the store at the drop of a hat, and when I want to go on two-mile walks because I’m feeling fat, he’s right there by my side.”
“It’s because he’s head over ass in love with you. You got a good one, Rory.”
Shyly she tilts her head down and nods. “I know. I’m incredibly lucky he fell in love with me.”
“Are you happy?” I know it’s a weird question to ask my ex-girlfriend, but I’m curious. “Did your life turn out the way you wanted it to?”
She pushes her dark hair behind her ear, bringing it all to one side, revealing her slender neck. “It did and so much more. I never thought I’d be able to give the gift of sports and team camaraderie to so many special needs athletes, nor did I think I’d marry a man so engrained in my soul I feel absolutely complete when he’s around.” She pauses and tilts her head. “Why do you ask? Are you happy?”
Staring at nothing, I down the rest of my beer. “No. I’m not happy.”
Stryder comes charging through the door, phone clutched between his face and shoulder, holding two six-packs of Laughing Lab. “Half hour? Okay, I’ll pay extra if you can get it here in twenty. Awesome, thanks.” He hangs up and sets a pack of beer on the coffee table only to put the other in the kitchen. He strolls back into the living room, kicks off his shoes, and grabs a beer, popping off the top with a bottle opener from the kitchen. “Pizza and wings will be here in twenty. You haven’t said anything, have you?”
He gives Rory a quick kiss on the lips before sitting down. He props his foot on the coffee table before quickly turning to his wife and saying, “Shit, can I get you anything? A drink? Food?”
She smiles and shakes her head. “I’m good.”
“You sure?”
“Yes, now shush, I want to hear what happened with Colby.”
They both look toward me, waiting to guide me through my current situation.
“Who called it off?” Rory asks first, her tone sweet and concerned. Anyone else would take the gossip route, ready to hear all about the destruction of a relationship, but not Rory. She always makes sure to put your feelings first.
I grab another beer and lean back on the couch, legs spread, head tilted to the ceiling, recalling the morning I spent with Sage. She decided to fly back tonight, changing her flight so it wasn’t super awkward. She also wanted to get started on canceling everything. I asked what I could do to help and she said she didn’t mind handling it all, as it gave her something to do. I hope she was honest with me, as I don’t want her to shoulder this alone if it upsets her.
We left on good terms, hugging once more before she took off for security. We both decided that I’d tell my friends and she would tell her brother and friends, besides Rowdy since she lives with him. I asked her if I could be the one who told Ryan, and she agreed it would be best coming from me. It was pleasant and oddly freeing when we said goodbye.
But now as I sit here, freshly un-engaged and confused as fuck, I can feel the world crumbling around me.
“She started the conversation, but we both agreed it was for the best,” I finally answer, taking another pull from my beer and then resting the bottle on the arm of the couch.
“What happened?” Rory asks. “How did it start?”
“Doesn’t really matter at this point. I think it has been coming for a while. Things have been weird between us, and we both kind of realized that even though we loved each other, we weren’t in love with one another.”
“Wow, so you just ended things?”
I nod. “Yup.” I drag my hand over my face. “Fuck, we talked about how our relationship was a steppingstone. I told her this wise person once told me that relationships can be steppingstones toward the person you’re supposed to meet, the person you’re supposed to be with.” Rory smiles brightly. “But fuck if that wasn’t a kick to the gut.” Chuckling, I shake my head before taking a sip of my beer. “What the hell is wrong with me? Am I the steppingstone guy? The guy women need to date in order to find their forever? When the hell am I going to be on the right side of forever?”
“The right side of forever?” Stryder asks, sounding confused.
“Yeah, it feels like I’ve been on the wrong side with every relationship I’ve had. I’ve thought I’ve found the person but turns out, I’m the one pushing them toward the right side while I stay on the wrong, never finding the right person.”
“Sometimes it takes longer, Colby,” Rory says. “It doesn’t mean you’re not worth loving or you won’t find your forever.”
I sigh. “I know.” I think back to my conversation with Sage, one thing sticking out in my mind, something I keep coming back to. “There was something Sage said to me I can’t seem to get out of my head.”
“What?” Stryder asks.
“She asked if I thought she would ever find what I have with Ryan.”
I catch an exchange of glances between Rory and Stryder. “Did she really ask that?” Rory asks.
“Yeah. I asked her what she was talking about and she told me Ryan was my person.”
A small smile pulls at the corner of Rory’s lips before she quickly hides it. When I look at Stryder, he’s holding a pillow to his face hiding any sort of facial expression.
“What the hell is going on with you two?”
Rory bites on her bottom lip and glances at Stryder, who shakes his head behind the pillow. She gives him a look and he shakes his head again. They’re doing that non-verbal communication only married couples can really understand. And it involves me, and it’s making me angrier by the second.
“What the fuck, you two? What aren’t you telling me right now?”
Holding her breath, Rory turns toward me and quickly lets it out while saying, “Ryan is in love with you.” She clamps her hand over her mouth.
“Jesus Christ, Rory,” yells Stryder.
“I’m sorry, but he has to know.”
I listen to them banter back and forth but my mind isn’t registering a damn thing they’re saying, as I try to comprehend the weight of the bomb Rory just dropped on me.
Ryan loves me?
Wait, no, Ryan is in love with me?
Since when? For how long? Is that why she’s been avoiding me?
The night in her parents’ driveway, the look in her eyes, the disappointment flashing over her face when I answered my phone.
The fact that she won’t return any of my calls or texts.
Holy. Fuck.
I sit up, hand fidgeting in my hair when I turn toward Rory. “Repeat that.”
Stryder and Rory stop bickering for a moment to answer me. “Repeat what?”
“Ryan. She loves me?”
Glancing at Stryder, Rory silently asks for permission. Not that it matters at this point; he throws his hand in the air just as the doorbell rings. The food is here.
“I’m going to take care of that.”
I keep my eyes fixed on Rory while Stryder takes care of the food. Once the door is shut, I press her. “Answer the question, Rory.”
Slowly, she nods, her confirmation hitting me dead in the chest. Ryan fucking loves me. The girl who started off as an acquaintance, and then a one-night stand
, and then a true friend, someone I’m desperate to have in my life. She loves me.
“Holy shit.” I push my hand through my hair again, finishing off another beer. Once I swallow, I ask, “For how long?”
“A while.” Rory twists her hands together. “She would kill me right now if she knew I told you, but I feel like you need to know. You two are meant to be together. I didn’t see it until I watched you with her at breakfast the other day. I can see it in the way you talk to her, your body language. Your protective instincts kick in whenever she’s around. Sage is right. Ryan’s your person.” I’m silent, trying to absorb everything, letting my feelings come to the forefront of my mind.
Ryan loves me.
And fuck if that doesn’t make me feel like a prideful idiot, chest puffed, and excitement coursing through my veins.
“How do you feel about her, man?” Stryder asks, mimicking Rory’s approach.
I bury my hand in my hair, pulling on the strands, tugging until there’s pain. “I think I love her.” The confession slips out of me, and it doesn’t even surprise me. “I think I’ve loved her for a long time, but I’ve never let myself actually feel it.”
Rory starts clapping, giddy as a school girl. “Oh my God! Really?”
“Yeah. When she was here last week, my heart literally dropped to my stomach and a wave of butterflies hit me hard. I was nervous and excited to see her, like I couldn’t get to her fast enough. I don’t think I ever truly had that feeling with Sage.” I take a sip of my beer. “And then when we hung out, it was so easy. I didn’t have to think about what to say to her, it just flowed naturally, and I felt like I could be myself around her. I don’t have to shield her from my past or my baggage. And that night when I dropped her off at her house . . .” I shake my head, still a little in shock that I got that close to her. But I had wanted her. Desperately.
On the edge of her seat, Rory asks, “What happened?”
“We had a fucking moment. I was saying bye to her and she was trying to talk down about herself again. I was setting her straight, letting know she’s the entire package. We were close, really fucking close. Her hand on my chest, my hand on her hip.”
“Oh my God.” Rory waves her hand in front of her. “I’m getting all sweaty. Did you kiss?”
I shake my head. “I wouldn’t have done that to Sage, but fuck if we weren’t close to kissing. I could feel it in my bones that I wanted to kiss her. I wanted to taste her. I wanted to wash away all of her worries and let her know she’s worth so much more.”
“What stopped you?”
“Respect of my relationship with Sage and . . . she called.”
“Sage called?”
I nod. “Yeah. Ryan flew away so fucking fast and bolted into her house. It was a five-second call, but when I got off the phone, I had to beg Ryan to give me a hug goodbye. She wouldn’t. She said she couldn’t.”
“Because she’s in love with you, you idiot. She’s been in love with you for a while, and she’s been helping you plan your freaking wedding. Can you imagine how she must feel?”
I didn’t even think about that. She even helped me propose to Sage.
And then it hits me, a million light bulbs going off in my head. “Holy fuck.” I sit up on the couch. “She loved me before I even proposed to Sage, didn’t she? That’s why she’s been weird, pulling away, dating someone she shouldn’t have been dating. She’s been trying to distance herself.” I stand and start to pace the living room. “Fuck, I’m such an idiot. Why didn’t I see it earlier?”
“Because you were with Sage. You had blinders on, Colby, and that’s okay. The timing was off, but now that you know, what are you going to do about it?”
I pause and take in the waiting expressions from my friends. “What am I going to do about it? I’m going to fucking make her mine.”
Colby: Two more weeks here in the Springs, and then I’ll be back in Vegas. I want to grab dinner when I get back. You name the place and time, I’ll be there.
Colby: A week and a half to go. I don’t like how we left things, so maybe you can shoot me a text back letting me know you’re still alive.
Colby: Good morning. I had a dream last night you were flying one of my model planes, but when I say fly it, I mean you were miniature mouse-size and were in the cockpit taunting me. Is that weird?
Colby: I had a burrito today from Salsa Brava and it made me think of you and our burrito dates. I could use one of those right about now.
Colby: One week until I’m back. Are you going to open your door if I knock on it?
Colby: I miss you, Ryan.
Chapter Eighteen
RYAN
“This baby has Stryder’s personality, stubborn and annoying.”
“Hey, I heard that,” Stryder calls out in the background. I barely laugh.
I don’t think I’ve laughed in weeks.
When I got back from Colorado Springs, avoiding any contact with my mother—thank God—I went straight to Donovan’s apartment, broke it off with him, and then spent the next day wallowing on my blowup mattress. Unfortunately for me, wallowing doesn’t bring in a paycheck, so I’ve been working and sleeping. That’s basically it.
The wallowing by no means was because of Donovan. He was actually a giant dick about the breakup, said a few choice words, which barely penetrated my soft and very penetrable wall. Key word being barely. There were still a few things that hit me harder than I would have liked.
Things like you were a decent lay.
The guys weren’t that impressed with you anyway.
I’m trying my hardest to keep the negative thoughts out of my head, but it’s practically impossible when I’m not in a good headspace, when I despise myself every time I look in the mirror, when I know no matter what I do to try to improve my body image, I will always think I’m not good enough.
I’ll never be good enough.
“Are you there?” Rory asks.
My throat tight, tears at the corner of my eyes, I say, “Yeah, I’m here. You broke up for a second.” I lie because I don’t want to worry her. She’s been calling more frequently, and I wonder if it’s because Colby said something to her. Since I won’t answer him, I’m wondering if he’s having Rory check up on me.
The only calls and texts I answer right now are from Rory and my dad. I’ve even stopped talking to Leah, because ever since I told her I think I’m going to leave the show, she’s been trying to convince me otherwise. She also wants to know what happened with Donovan, and I don’t have the energy to tell her.
And then there’s Sage.
She’s messaged a few times asking how I am, and I know she’s being polite, but she probably has wedding things she wants to talk about. I can’t physically get myself to answer her calls, to even think about talking to her. I can’t. There is no way I can talk about the wedding and listen to how she excited she is to marry Colby. It’s a dagger to the heart, twisting and turning with every mention of what their life is going to be like, the life I wish I could have. The life I’ll never have, because no one will ever think I’m enough.
I have to call her back at some point and let her know I can’t be her maid of honor. I can’t. I can’t fathom standing at the altar, watching Colby marry someone else, seeing the joy in his eyes when he watches his bride walk down the aisle, the love he has for her.
It will be too difficult.
“The doctor said I’m not even dilated a little. I was told your first pregnancy usually doesn’t go full term, and I have to be the exception, don’t I? Don’t get me wrong, I know it’s healthier for the baby, but let me tell you something, Ryan. I have to grip the wall to get off the toilet, and that’s horrifying.”
I politely chuckle. “Maybe have Stryder get you a cane or something.”
“I might. Carrying a bowling ball on your stomach is hard, especially when it’s constantly pressing on your bladder.”
“Might have to bust out the diapers.” I’m having a conversation, but I kno
w my heart isn’t in it. My mind is barely registering what we’re talking about, and I know Rory can sense it, but she’s not saying anything.
It’s throwing me off actually. By now she would have asked me what’s wrong. Maybe the baby is taking over everything. I don’t blame her. She needs to focus on the baby, not me.
“Hey, I actually have to get going. Dinner isn’t going to make itself.”
“Ooo, what are you making? Can you tell I’m pregnant? I’m super excited about food all the time.”
“Before you were pregnant you were happy about food too,” I tease.
“Hey, I’m more sensitive now too.”
“Sorry about that. Just making some simple pasta on my hot plate. Super involved.”
“Sounds like a delight. I’ll let you go. We’re still on Sheppard Baby Watch, so I’ll be sure to keep you updated at all hours of the night.”
“You better.”
We hang up the phone and I toss it onto my little faux nightstand—which is actually a storage bin turned upside down. I’ve done nothing to this apartment to make myself at home, to make it a place I truly want to come home to every day, but then again, it’s a single room with no kitchen. There’s not much I can do or want to do. Instead of making dinner like I said, I curl up into my pillow and pull my sheets over my shoulder.
There have been moments in my life where I’ve felt depressed or unsure where my life was going, but nothing has been as bad as this moment. It’s so . . . dark. Desolate.
Nothing has happened to me, so I can’t say I’ve hit rock-bottom, but my mental capacity, my heart, they’re broken, shattered into a million pieces and practically impossible to put back together.
Meditate. Get some fresh air. Listen to some music. They’re all suggestions to get me out of this dark hole I’ve been living in, but nothing seems to work.
They always say the mistakes you make shape you into the person you presently are. Well, there is one mistake I wish I could take back, one that has shaped me into a pile of nothing.