Before I was released from the hospital the next morning two officers had stopped by to clarify some information. They brought my camera backpack with them. I had completely forgot that I had flung it aside on the top of the rocks. My keys and ID were still inside.
It was from the police that I found out Ryder was even alive. When I had found out he was alive, and here in the hospital, I had openly wept in front of the officers.
I persistently questioned them to get the details about where Ryder had been found and what condition he was in. I was in shock, my relief physically drained me. After getting the answers I needed from them I expected to rush into Ryder's arms, to tell him how much I love him, to cling to him and heal his hurt.
When I asked a nurse if I could see him she politely told me he wasn't accepting any visitors. When I pressed her to tell him who was specifically asking to visit she had gone to him, but he had repeated his request. I was crushed by his refusal to see me. He had closed himself off from me and I couldn't tell him how I felt. I couldn't hold him in his pain and it left me lost and lonely.
I had tried to call him and had sent him a few text messages but each time he ignored my call. I carried my phone with me everywhere waiting for him to call or text back. I hoped and prayed for some kind of response from him.
I hadn't spoken to him directly since the night of his confession. The only time I had seen him since then was at Bobby's funeral and out on the rocks. I was desperate to hear his voice again, to press my cheek against his chest and wrap my arms around his waist.
Seeing him sitting under that tent again, his head bowed in grief tore at me. His parents and sister sat solemnly in the chairs. He didn't look around and he didn't console his family. He sat on the end, his head down and his shoulders slumped. I saw his shoulders shake in his grief and he held a tissue clutched in his fist beside his head, his elbows resting on his knees. The posture was so closed off, so introverted in on himself.
I longed to go to him but I feared his rejection. His grief came off him in waves, mixed with anger and I worried that once he cut me out of his life there would be no way to get back into it.
I stopped calling and texting after the first few days and decided to back off, give him the space he needed and prayed he would come back to me. I had already lost one man I loved, I couldn't bear to lose another.
When I had returned to town yesterday I had finally told my parents all about the ring, about the night of Ryder's confession, his guilt and kindness, his love and affection for me. They were supportive and surprisingly understanding. My mom had wept when she saw the ring and inscription. She had never had a chance to see the ring Ian had given me, the one he symbolically pledged his life to me with.
After the service was over the Cowans were surrounded again by friends and family. The condolences were heartfelt, the town felt their grief and shared in it.
The whole story of Jace's involvement in Ian's death, while suspected all along, was finally confirmed. News traveled fast in small towns. I was relived that the Cowans weren't ostracized again. I think people realized that they had suffered enough. It was time for forgiveness and healing.
My mom and dad left with Ian's parents. They didn't approach Ryder's parents this time. Not because of any ill will, but because the Cowans were already receiving condolences from so many people.
I had driven separately, hoping to speak with Ryder. When he finally looked up and I was able to catch his eye though, he shook his head 'no' at me. It was gentle and sad, but he was telling me not to approach him. His beautiful blue eyes were dark with unshed tears, his sandy blond hair hung in his eyes. He looked so lost. I wanted to ignore his request and go to him anyway, but I respected him enough to not push him. I hoped that he would eventually let me in.
I turned and left him, leaving my heart behind.
Chapter 35 - Ryder
I liked to climb on things when I was a kid. Anything I could shimmy up like a little monkey. When I was six I had climbed up the metal swing set in our backyard. For some reason I had tried to stand on it and had fell. I broke my leg and lay there screaming. Jace had been the one to run to me. At only ten years old he had gathered me in his arms and carried me into the house.
In fifth grade when Johnny Peterson shoved me during gym class and made me fall down the bleachers, Jace had been the one to back him in a corner and threaten to beat the crap out of him if he ever touched me again.
Jace was also the one who taught me how change the oil in a car, to do a basic tune-up, to change a tire. All of this was done with patience. He shared something he was interested in with Bobby and I. Not because he had to, but because he cared.
There weren't a lot of touchy feely moments with Jace but looking back, all the little memories were bigger now. They were more important. In the long run, beneath Jace's anger, behind the walls he had put up, he loved me and had my back growing up. Deep down he loved his family.
I wanted to know what he and Cyan had talked about out there on those rocks. I desperately wanted to hear every last word he had spoken. When I had finally arrived and had begged them to get off the rocks he had seemed defeated. He gave in fairly easy. When Cyan had said that she didn't plan to go back to the police, that she wasn't going to turn over the ring, I felt complete relief and I saw that same relief on Jace's face.
We should have immediately followed Cyan off the rocks. I should have gotten Jace away from the edge. Instead I had wanted to put this anger between us to rest. I had extended my hand and brought him into an embrace. While I would never regret that final connection we had, I would forever regret everything that happened after that.
One second I was looking Jace in the eye, one hand gripping his, my other arm just pulling back from our embrace. I had seen sadness and exhaustion in Jace's eyes. I remember thinking that maybe he's back, maybe I could get through to him now. I no longer saw that seething anger in him.
The icy shower had instantly taken my breath away. His eyes had opened in surprise as I imagine mine had at the same time when the wave had crashed into us. We were lifted and everything happened in slow motion, each detail dragged out, but at the same time it was over in an instant. My grip had tightened on Jace's for just a second as we held onto one another, but then he was gone.
The pain in my back and shoulders had made it hard to breath. When I landed in the water my body immediately stopped working. The water was so cold I could hardly breathe. The waves pushed me forward, the swells lifting me up onto an outcropping of rocks. My head connected with one of them and a burst of light shook me as my head exploded in pain.
I don't remember seeing Jace after I hit the water. I couldn't have moved to get to him if I had seen him. I was wedged on the rocks and realized later that perhaps that was what had saved me.
I'm pretty sure I passed out a few times. The bright red and blue lights had caught and held my attention and I prayed that they were here for us. I prayed that Jace was okay and that Cyan had made it off the rocks. I prayed too that they would get to me before it was too late. Two out of three wasn't good enough in this case.
It's been a month since we buried Jace. Just over a month since we buried Bobby. Both of my brothers were gone. I would never see them again, argue with them, laugh with them.
The pain was unbearable and I felt guilty that I was alive. Call it survivors guilt, call it sympathy guilt, whatever you wanted to call it, I felt it. I wasn't suicidal or anything but I wasn't sure why I was alive and they were dead. I really wasn't sure where I was supposed to go from here.
Cyan had called and texted me for three days but I had ignored every attempt she made to talk to me. Those first few days I just couldn't comprehend what was happening. I couldn't let her near me when I was hurting so much.
The police had questioned me at length in the hospital. I told them everything, except about the ring. Cyan said she wasn't going to say anything to the police about it so I decided to leave it alone.
I had
been released from the hospital after two days. My concussion was pretty bad and I had severe bruising and some swelling all over my body.
The nurses were kind and one of them told me that Cyan was asking to see me. I refused of course. She didn't need to be near me. The Cowans had proven to be toxic. I needed her to just move on with her life. I had to give her up for her own good. I had come to Pacific Grove to return the ring and ask her forgiveness and look what had happened. The 'what if' game had come back ready to play another round.
Jace's motorcycle and my Cuda had been sent to the impound yard waiting for me to claim them. I could have called Cyan and asked her to take me there but I still couldn't face her. I called a cab instead.
After retrieving my car I took a minute to go to Jace's bike. I ran my hand across the seat. He had loved that bike and he would never ride it again. The thought depressed the hell out of me. I made arrangements to have it transported back to Pinecrest. I wasn't sure what we were going to do with it, but it was important to him and it needed to be back home.
Walking back into my old apartment it felt like I had been gone forever. So much had happened since I was last home. Bobby and Jace had both died and were laid to rest. I had met Cyan and she had turned my life upside down in the best possible way. When I had allowed her into my heart I had made myself so vulnerable to everything around me. I felt everything so much deeper – life, death, love. It was all so painful and I couldn't escape it.
Checking in regularly with my parents and my sister I tried to get my life back on track. Trying to find a sense of normalcy in my upside down world. They sounded like they were doing okay. Jenna confirmed that my dad had really stepped into a supportive roll and she thought they were going to come out of all this okay in the end.
My business had continued and I threw myself into my work with all the energy I could muster. If I wasn't working I was trying to sleep. Work came easy, sleep didn't.
The nightmares had started just a few days after Jace's funeral. The details would change in the dreams but each time I was always reaching, always trying to hang onto someone. Sometimes it was Jace, sometimes it was Bobby, but usually it was Cyan. I was always falling and I was always really, really cold. My hand would reach out begging to be grabbed, and a face would come into view looking back at me, but I just kept falling. Our fingers never connecting.
I spent countless nights staring at the ceiling, the TV or the moon. Late night walks became regular as I tried to either avoid or shake off another nightmare.
It was mid-October now and the weather was getting a little crisper in the evenings. California weather still meant the days were mostly warm and comfortable but the evenings grew colder. The leaves had started changing color and dropping.
I would throw on a jacket and walk aimlessly by the light of the moon. The evening breezes would stir the trees and I would walk through the light shower of yellow leaves.
When I would gaze at the moon I felt closer to Cyan. Like maybe she was at her little apartment gazing up at the moon too. That somehow we were still connected. I wanted her to move on with her life and not be tainted by having met me, but at the same time I wanted to have mattered to her.
When I was tired of walking I would fall into bed and beg sleep to overtake me. A sleep full of dreams of Cyan, not the nightmares I had grown accustomed to.
A letter had arrived from Cyan today. My mailing address is listed on my company website so I'm assuming she found it there.
I haven't made any effort to contact her so I was surprised to hear from her. It has been a daily struggle not to call her. I miss her voice, her laugh, her teasing. I miss the smell of her hair and the way her face would light up when she wanted to show me some new adventure.
Having spent two weeks basking in the beautiful glow that surrounds Cyan I feel like I'm now living in the shadows. That my warm sunny place has been replaced with darkness and gloom. Every time I was around her, every time I looked at her, I had felt at peace. All the puzzle pieces of my life just fit when I was with her. Since she's been out of my life I feel unsettled, stumbling around in my self imposed darkness.
I traced my name with my finger. Cyan's hand had written this. She had held this envelope. I placed it against my nose and inhaled wishing I could catch just the smallest scent of her, but I smelled nothing but paper.
I had checked the mail a couple hours ago and had thrown it all on the counter. It wasn't until after my late walk that I saw the light blue envelope peeking out beneath the pile. When I saw Cyan's name on the return address all the air left my lungs.
I would be lying if I said that I had moved on. That I had allowed myself to stop thinking about her. In truth I hadn't thought of anything else but her in the last month. She consumed every thought and every dream. How could I move on from her anyway? I had no real life before her. She had awoke in me a desire to start living a fulfilling life and I couldn't imagine a life without her. But I had to, that was my new reality.
It was late at night and I had only the bedside lamp on. I lay in my bed wearing my favorite old gray sweat pants and a white t-shirt, a light blanket flung across me. I had been stalling, turning the blue envelope over and over in my hands. Reading her name, reading my name.
I was afraid to open it. It could go two ways. Either she was giving me another chance and I had to decide if I was going to let her back in, or she was telling me it was over. That thought surprised me because I had ended things a month ago. Or had I? Was she still waiting for me? That wasn't fair for me to have taken that time from her. In my mind she had easily moved on from me, but had she really? If she loved me as much as I loved her she wouldn't have been able to move on at all.
But she had never said she loved me. I know she cared about me, but I had put her through so much in the last two months that it wasn't fair to expect anything from her. Especially not her love.
We haven't talked to one another since that evening beside the lake. I've seen her at both of my brother's funerals and that night at the island of course, but we've never talked.
The last conversation we had involved me breaking her trust and her breaking my heart. When she had left me without a word after all that I had confessed, including my love, I just knew I had lost her.
When she showed up at Bobby's funeral I felt a glimmer of hope, but then she had left town again without a word. After Jace's death I was emotionally spent. I just couldn't hope anymore, I couldn't dream anymore. I didn't deserve to. When she wanted to approach me at Jace's funeral I knew then that I had to let her go. I never wanted to hurt her again and being with me would do just that.
I know there is so much that should have been said. At the time I thought just walking away from her would be the easiest. That somehow I was letting her off the hook, giving her an out, a way to not have to be around another Cowan ever again.
I felt like I held my future in my fingers, but that I was losing my grip and like my nightmares, it was slowly slipping away. I needed to get a grip in more ways than one.
I had stalled long enough. Finally I slid my finger underneath the flap on the envelope. Carefully I slid out the white paper and held it between my fingers. Taking a deep breath I flipped it open and began to read.
My Dearest Ryder,
Let me begin by saying how very sorry I am about all the pain you're going through. Your loss of Jace and your loss of Bobby. While I understand loss, from when Ian was taken from me, I can only imagine what it feels like to lose two siblings. They were part of your youth, part of the life that formed who you've become today and their loss means you've lost a little of yourself.
I know you decided to cut me out of your life and I'm going to be honest with you here, I'm very angry about that. How dare you choose to cut yourself off from me? We have so much that needs to be said. I need an explanation. I'm asking for one and I think I deserve one.
Are you angry with me for any hand I may have had in Jace's death? Are you sorry you ever met me? Are y
ou regretting the time we spent together?
You see, I have no idea where I stand with you. You've left me all alone. I waited for you. After you wouldn't take my calls or texts I thought I would give you a little space to grieve. Then I waited some more. Every time the door opened at work I looked to see if it was you. Every time I checked the mail I hoped there would be a letter from you. Every time my phone rings or beeps I rush to see if you've finally contacted me.
Do you know that I love you? See, I didn't even get to tell you that in person. You've taken that from me. But here I am, here and now, telling you Ryder Marshall Cowan that I love you.
You may have come into town bringing all kinds of baggage with you, but you also brought your love, your kindness, your gentle spirit and eventually your honesty.
You opened up my heart to loving again, you allowed me to see that there is life beyond my grief. I've been telling myself for a month now that at least I have that, but you know what? That's not enough. I want you. I want you back in my life.
You told me on the shore of the lake that you loved me. You told me that I had awoken in you a desire to be the man that I see when I look at you. Be that man. Please, for me Ryder, be that man.
All my love,
Cyan
I closed my eyes when I closed the paper. She loved me. She said it, well, wrote it. I hoped, I prayed, I suspected, but I didn't know. Now I knew. Did this change things? I had to give her answers, but could I let her love me or should I urge her to move on without me? I read her note one more time, tracing my finger over those three words, before sliding the paper back into the envelope.
I pressed the letter against my heart with one hand, turning the light off with the other. I closed my eyes and prayed for dreams of Cyan to replace the nightmares.
Letting Go Page 18