The Fear of Falling

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The Fear of Falling Page 21

by Amanda Cowen


  We stand there staring at each other as I let his words sink in.

  “You really think that I’m seeing Liam?” I shout. “You think I’ve been avoiding you for an entire week and ran all the way down here looking like this because of fucking Thor?”

  “Jesus, Ella. Calm down.” He shifts his eyes around, getting nervous.

  “You know what, it doesn’t even matter what you think. This was a mistake, just like we were a mistake, right?”

  Realization dawns on his face. “Is that what this is about? Fuck, Ella. I just panicked. I was playing it cool in front of Maisie and—”

  “Stop,” I hold up my hand.

  “Ella, come on,” He pleads, his trademark scent washing over me. “You came here to talk, so let’s talk.”

  I shove him away. “No. I can’t – I let myself forget you’re a fucking player. I just never thought I’d ever be stupid enough to fall for it.” I turn away from him. “Go back to Alodie and just leave me alone.”

  “Ella, please—” His voice echoes in the distance.

  Tears stream down my cheeks as I move quickly down the sidewalk. He doesn’t follow me this time.

  “Ella!” It’s Maisie’s voice that comes up from behind me. I can hear her shouting at Ryan, telling him he’s an asshole and asking him what he said to me, before she catches up to my quick stride.

  She doesn’t say anything as she follows me back into our apartment, and not even after I collapse on my bed, crying uncontrollably. She just lies beside me, letting me release my agony into my pillow until I finally drift off to sleep.

  Chapter 18

  The flight to Oregon is delayed for two hours. I end up arriving later than expected, with only an hour to spare before my dad’s rehearsal dinner party. I opted to attend dateless, for more reasons than one.

  Maisie offered to come with me as my guest, but I decided it was better to go alone. Most people would want a little moral support if they were about to be subjected to watching their dad’s double life come to fruition. In fact, before I made a fool of myself at Royal Shots, I expected him to be my plus-one.

  No one else would even be able to comprehend how incredibly hard it is for me to be present at my dad’s wedding. He’s the only person who knows why my parents really split up. Not to mention how Heidi has absorbed my dad’s entire life into a new life with her daughters, leaving me and my mom on the back burner. Then there was the time Heidi had a family picture taken with my dad and her two daughters, and mailed me a Christmas card my sophomore year with the picture inside, along with the generic holiday greetings. Ryan was there when I opened the card and saw my dad in a Santa hat and Heidi and her daughters wearing elf hats, dressed festively and smiling. I nearly collapsed onto the floor in tears; it was the first time I ever fully realized I was not a part of his family anymore. I was replaced with an evil soon-to-be stepmom and her spoiled daughters. Ryan was the only person to console me and he told me I didn’t need them in my life because I had him and my mom and so many other people who cared about me.

  Yeah, now that I think about it, there are plenty of reasons why this whole wedding makes me sick to my stomach, and why having Ryan here would have made this weekend a hell of a lot easier. But because I had a temporary moment of insanity and stupidly convinced myself I had actual feelings for Ryan, now I’m too embarrassed to even be in the same room as him, never mind fly with him to a different state to be my wedding date.

  I ended up confessing to my mom I was flying to Oregon for the weekend. I also ended up telling her why. Her silence on the other end of the line broke my heart, but I also knew I wasn’t the one responsible for fixing things this time. My dad betrayed her, left us, and started a new life without us. I wish I didn’t feel obligated to support his nuptials, but I refuse to give Heidi the satisfaction of successfully erasing me from his life.

  Normally, I would have stayed at my mom’s home in Yachats, but my dad decided to get married in Portland, a three-hour drive away from my hometown. The ceremony and reception are taking place at the Rose Valley River Place Hotel, located right on the harbor.

  I check into my hotel room, take a quick shower, curl my hair, and slip on a coral lace dress with a flirty off-the-shoulder neckline. If I showed up wearing a casual sundress, Heidi would be overly critical. She’s always dressed to impress, just like a wannabe Real Housewife of Oregon, except my dad is far from rich and she’s far from being as attractive as those women on reality television.

  The rehearsal dinner party has already started by the time I leave my hotel room. I walk down the hallway and step into the elevator, riding down to the first floor. When the elevator pings open into the lobby, my breath is sharply pulled from my body by who I saw first.

  Ryan?

  He is standing a few feet away, his dark brown eyes full of hope and mischief as they meet mine. He’s wearing a fitted white button-down shirt that clings to his chest, and navy dress pants. His feet are in brown Oxford dress shoes, and a powdered blue-flecked bow tie is around his neck. His sandy-brown hair is styled perfectly.

  Maisie sent him here. I’m sure of it.

  “Ella…” he starts. I feel the weight of every ticking moment of silence. His jaw clenches as we stare at each other, and when he swallows the dimple flickers on his cheek.

  “Ryan,” I say, my voice tight and breathless. “What are you doing here?”

  He cautiously takes a step forward. “Maisie may have mentioned your dad’s wedding was this weekend.”

  “And somehow that meant you should stalk me in a different state like a weirdo.”

  “In case you forgot, a few months ago you practically begged me to attend this wedding with you,” he answers with a convincing smile. “And I don’t see anyone else accompanying you as your plus one, so…”

  “Yeah, well… that was before you turned into an epic douchebag.”

  He should look wounded from my truth bomb, but he doesn’t. His eyes study me, clearly charmed. His body inches its way closer to me.

  “Come on, Ella. Please don’t be mad,” he says. “Listen, I’m sorry about that night at Royal Shots. If I knew—”

  “I’m not mad,” I shake my head, trying to clear the memory out. “I’m just… I mean I was, yes. But you don’t have to explain yourself to me.”

  I can tell he wants to ask, Why did you really come there that night? But he doesn’t, and I give him serious props for it. This is neither the right time nor place. Although my decision to confess what I thought were real feelings for Ryan was impulsive, seeing him standing in front of me with mercy in his eyes immediately melts my cold heart for him.

  “Can you forgive me?” he asks. “Or at least stop pretending you aren’t thrilled I’m here.”

  I want to make him grovel for forgiveness, but the trouble is he’s right. I am secretly thrilled he’s here. All I want is to move past what happened between us and find our easy rhythm again. I know it’s easier said than done after we’ve blurred the lines so badly, they are no longer visible. But seeing him here and knowing he came all this way for me for what was looking like the worst weekend of my life gives me hope those lines may be redrawn. I force myself to refrain from showing any emotion, and poker-face it like a champ.

  “Where are you staying for the weekend?” I ask, hands pressed to my hips. “You’re not sleeping in my hotel room, if that’s what you think.”

  “Relax,” he laughs. “I’ve got my own room right across the hall.”

  I narrow my eyes at him. “How did you know what room I was in?”

  “Asked the front desk, duh.”

  “That seems like a breach of privacy,” I say in a no-nonsense way.

  There’s a slight smirk on his lips as he takes a step closer. A beat of silence passes between us as his eyes travel slowly down my body. “For what it’s worth, you look stunning.”

  My chest constricts as I hear his words roll off his tongue so easily, and as smooth as velvet. I’m not ready for him to
say things like that to me so soon.

  His words just hang in the air throughout the part where I’m supposed to say thank you, to say something polite back about how handsome he looks too, and accept what he says with a smile. But both of us just stand there.

  “Oh hi, Ella.” A familiar shrill voice comes from my right side, distracting us.

  I turn to see my soon-to-be stepsisters Christina and Becka walking toward me and Ryan. I grew up with them since our mothers were close friends. Christina is two years older than me, with poker-straight blonde hair and blue eyes the size of dinner plates. Becka and I are the same age, although she looks way older than both of us, probably because of her secret smoking habit she insists she doesn’t have. She has a red bob of hair and warm brown eyes. Her boobs are enormous, and her cheeks are covered in freckles. She looks nothing like her sister, but they do share the same rotten traits: they’re nosy, entitled, and ditsy.

  “Christina, Becka.” I greet them, my tone pleasant.

  “So glad you could make it for mom and dad,” Christina says. My chest tightens with a familiar anxious pain. Even though they have their own dad — a recovering alcoholic who wants nothing to do with them — they’ve clung to mine like a leech. “We are all really happy you are here,” she adds, making me once again feel on the outside of their happy little family.

  “And you brought Ryan, huh?” Becka asks. She eyes him up and down, not hiding for a second that she finds him attractive. The last time Ryan came to Oregon with me, we ended up having dinner with my dad, Heidi and her daughters. Becka couldn’t keep her eyes or hands off him. It was enough to make me lose my appetite. “I thought mom said you weren’t bringing a guest,” she adds.

  “I, uh…” I start waffling, but Christina cuts me off.

  “Well, it’s nice to see you again, Ryan,” she says. “How nice of you to accompany Ella.”

  Her mocking tone doesn’t go unnoticed. Heidi and her daughters are baffled that I’ve never been in a serious relationship, and find my dating-life humorous.

  “Yeah, well… I would never miss something that’s important to Ella.” I hear Ryan say. I turn around to face him, my heart pounds against my rib cage.

  “Girls, come back to the party,” a male voice shouts from the doorway. He’s tall and lean, with thick brown hair and dark rimmed glasses. A shorter spiky-haired blonde male stands beside him, sipping on a flute of champagne.

  “Coming!” Christina shouts over her shoulder, then turns back to me. “Ella, Ryan, you must come and meet our boyfriends.”

  Before I can even respond with a hard no, Christina pulls me by the elbow over to two males standing in the doorway.

  “This is my boyfriend, Matthew.” Christina says, pointing to the taller one. “And this is Becka’s boyfriend, Parker,” she adds, nodding to the shorter one. “And this is Ella, dad’s other daughter and her… um… this is Ryan.”

  Ryan leans forward and shakes their hands, all smiles. “Nice to meet you.”

  “Nice to meet you, too,” Matthew says, eyeing him skeptically. “Mr. Jones didn’t mention Ella had a boyfriend.”

  I nervously laugh. “Um, because I don’t.”

  I catch Ryan’s smile fading momentarily before brightening again, forcefully. “Yup, just friends.”

  “Oh.” Matthew says. “Do you go to college together?”

  “Yeah, we both study at the University of San Francisco,” he answers.

  “What are you taking?” Matthew asks.

  “Prelaw. Political Science,” he says, pausing for a moment, like he’s debating the next words he’ll say. He opens his mouth to say something more, but then closes it again. He glances down at me, and the air around us feels charged, but that could be because I’m hyper-aware of when Ryan is about to confess something big. He finally does. “Actually, I’ve just been accepted into Yale Law School.”

  My head flies up. He was accepted? For an instant, I freak out, knowing his future is a solid six-hour plane ride away for the next three years. My heart slightly sinks.

  “You were?” I ask.

  “Yeah.”

  “When?”

  “I found out a few days ago,” he says, refusing to meet my eyes.

  I look at him with a mix of emotions. If this is truly what he wants, I am happy for him. This is huge for him, and of course, for his family. But the thought of losing him to the east coast sits heavily on my chest. Knowing Ryan’s plan post-graduation isn’t new to me; I shouldn’t be so shocked, but somehow I am, and I feel this crazy turmoil of emotions.

  Realizing we only have a few months left together before we graduate hits me hard. I’ve already wasted enough time without him because of my stupid pride and my stupid hormones, and that was one of the hardest things I’ve ever had to do.

  The reality of our pending graduation suddenly causes a wave of nausea. I can’t even begin to imagine how I’ll feel when he’s miles away from me at Yale.

  “Congrats, bro. I’m heading into my second year of law, also at Yale.” Matthew says, breaking through my thoughts. “Looks like we have two Yale boys in the house.”

  “Yeah, I guess so,” Ryan says.

  “Hey, you golf?” Parker asks. “We need a fourth for tomorrow’s early-morning game with Mr. Jones. You may as well join us.”

  “That won’t be necessary—” I pipe up.

  “Of course I’ll come,” Ryan cuts me off. “What time do we tee off?”

  “Nine o’clock sharp.” Matthew answers.

  “Great.”

  “Perfect. Dad will be so happy,” Christina gushes.

  “You do realize he’s not actually your dad, right?” I say, my tone a lot sharper than I expected it to be.

  She rolls her eyes. “Oh. Ella. Don’t be silly. Of course he is.”

  My lips pinch together and I ball my hands into fists. Ryan must sense my discomfort because he quickly pipes up before I do. “Hey, I have an idea. Why don’t we all head to the bar for a drink.”

  “Yes,” Becka cheers. “Sounds good. Let’s go.”

  The four of them turn, leading the way into the dinner party and over to a makeshift bar at the far right corner. Ryan and I start to follow, but stop when I hear my dad’s voice on my right.

  “Ella, darling. You made it.”

  I turn to face him, with Heidi perched on his arm. Her dress is an over-the-top, sparkling-white gown with shimmering, beaded detail. Her cleavage is practically touching her nose, and her blonde hair is in an up do.

  “Hey, Dad. Hi, Heidi. Congratulations,” I say, politely.

  “Oh, Ella, always so rigid with pleasantries,” Heidi laughs, glancing over at my dad. “Just like her mother. So reserved.”

  My insides flare up. How dare she mention my mom at a time like this! I can feel Ryan pinching the skin on the back of my arm, silently warning me to keep my mouth shut and not say something rude in response.

  “How was your flight?” my dad asks.

  “Good,” I reply, throwing daggers in Heidi’s direction.

  “And I see you brought Mr. Owen with you,” he says, shaking Ryan’s hand. “Good to see you again.”

  “Likewise, Mr. Jones. And nice to see you too, Heidi,” he nods politely in her direction.

  Heidi frowns. “Ella, you didn’t reply with a plus one. You should have told me you were bringing a friend.”

  “Yeah, sorry. It’s my fault,” Ryan pipes up. He drapes one arm around my shoulders, pulling me tight against his side. “I told Ella I couldn’t make it, but then my plans changed at the last minute, so I was able to catch a flight and come here. I hope that’s okay.”

  “It will have to be okay,” she says crossly. “You’re here now. I’ll need to let the wedding planner know.”

  “Hey, Ryan,” Matthew’s voice comes from behind us. “You didn’t meet us at the bar.” Their four-member pack returns to our circle. “You look like a Scotch kind of guy, so here you go,” he says, passing him a drink.

  “
Great. Thanks.”

  “Hey, Mr. Jones,” Parker says to my dad. “Ryan is going to be our fourth tomorrow.”

  “Great,” he replies, smiling.

  “And did you hear? Ryan was accepted at Yale,” Matthew adds.

  “I suppose congratulations are in order!” He clinks his glass with Ryan’s. “Your father must be very proud. Are you still planning on taking over the firm with your brother?”

  Ryan shrugs. “That’s the plan.”

  “What about you, Ella?” Heidi probes. “Were you accepted for that drawing internship at Disney?”

  The thing is, Heidi is very snooty. And if I’m not mistaken, she thinks my passion for art – graphic design, animation, painting and sketching – is a waste of my dad’s financial resources. The way she looked at me just now and the not-so-subtle comment about my drawing tells me her opinion hasn’t changed in the slightest since my freshman year. She still thinks my degree is a joke, and my dad should have never supported me financially through university. This is what makes the truth about my situation even harder to admit right now.

  “Um, no,” I finally say. “They chose someone else.”

  My dad raises an eyebrow. “Ella, why didn’t you tell me?”

  Heidi gives him an ‘I told you so’ look, which he reciprocates with a frown of disappointment.

  “Maybe it’s a sign to finally put your art aside and do something more employable.” Even though those words came from my dad’s mouth, I know they are a direct influence of Heidi. Just because her deadbeat ex-husband doesn’t pay for her daughter’s education doesn’t mean my dad shouldn’t be supportive of mine.

  “Yeah, Ella. Art’s a tough market,” Christina pipes up.

  “Yeah, unlike my nursing degree,” Becka brags. “I already have a job after I graduate. It wouldn’t be a bad idea to take something a little more practical than drawing or painting, or whatever it is you do.”

 

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