by Amanda Cain
I'll be damned. Way to go, Melissa.
I wasn't so sure my being there with Lindsey would help Ryan, but if it would help Lindsey move on and allow Ryan and me to be together, it couldn't hurt, right?
Chapter 31
Emma
I called Ryan and asked him to have Melissa stay the night at Stacy's and not to ask me any questions. He owed me that much.
Standing in front of Ryan's apartment door, in a surprising gesture of friendship, Lindsey reached for my hand. When Ryan answered his door, his reaction to seeing Lindsey and me standing together, holding hands, was worse than I anticipated.
"What the fuck!?" he exclaimed, his body tensing, anger radiating from his dark emerald eyes, which caused me to flinch. Crap! Did I make the right decision in agreeing to come here?
The look in his eyes as he stared at me was reminiscent of the way he looked at me when he thought Randy and I were together. Complete disdain and distrust.
"Ryan …" I gulped. "Please invite us in. Lindsey is here to share some things with you, and it's important that you listen. Try to keep an open mind."
"Are you serious? Em, the last time Lindsey was here, she dropped off Melissa and had the audacity to tell me she hadn't decided how often she was going to let me see her. She wasn't sure how often she was going to let me see my own fucking daughter! And now you're standing here with her like your best fucking friends? Sure, why don't you both come on in! Fucking make yourselves at home. Apparently, I have no control over what happens in my own fucking life.” The anger and sarcasm in his voice felt like a knife piercing my skin, heading straight toward my heart.
Trying to ignore his impatience, I walked into the kitchen. We had brought wine, beer, and I even threw in a bottle of Jäger for good measure. I poured two glasses of wine and one shot glass of Jäger. I set the wine glasses and the Jäger shot, with a Heineken next to it, on the table.
"Ryan, give us a chance to explain," I said.
Lindsey began slowly starting with the first night her uncle invaded her bedroom. Hours later, through a lot of crying and a lot of wine, Lindsey finished telling Ryan her story. During that time Ryan struggled between outrage, sympathy, relief, and disbelief. He said he understood her pain but was angry for what she had done to him, the years wasted. I hoped he wouldn't stay angry at Lindsey and prayed he and I would be able to put the pieces back together and pick up where we left off.
Ryan had remained distant toward me while he listened and reacted to Lindsey. Any glances he threw my way were cursory with no real exhibit of any emotion. I was growing increasingly insecure.
"Why are you telling me this now? After fourteen years you decide to tell the truth. Because you met this guy Darren and aren't worried about being alone anymore?" Ryan asked Lindsey.
"In part, yes. Therapy is helping me learn how to cope, and telling you is a big part of my therapy. I know this is going to be hard to believe, but I love Melissa, and I want what's best for her. I want to let go of my anguish and anger and learn how to be a better person. For her, for you, and for me."
Ryan stood up. "I need to think and you need to leave."
I didn't know if he meant me too, but he hadn't asked me to stay. I figured he needed some time alone to process everything. Ryan hadn't offered either one of us much comfort.
Lindsey had arranged for Darren to arrive the next day and asked me if I would stay with her while she talked to Darren. I didn't think she needed my help, but she did need a friend. I wasn't the best person for that job, considering our short but rocky history and shared relationship with Ryan, but what the hell? Ryan didn't invite me to stay with him, and I was too tired to fly home tonight, so I stayed at Lindsey's.
I could see the love Darren had for Lindsey in his eyes the minute he walked through the door. I sat with her, but retelling the events went easier for her this time.
Darren exhibited anger and sadness that she had to go through such pain, but no judgment for her actions. Once I knew she would be alright, I kissed her cheek and headed for the airport.
I had conflicted thoughts about calling Ryan. He was still pretty angry when I left, so I decided to give him some time. I figured he would call me soon.
Once home, I leaned heavily on Char and Randy for support. They were both sure Ryan would come around, but as days passed, I wasn't as confident.
Lindsey called to say her counseling was going well and although she had a lot to work through, she was happier than she ever believed possible. When I asked her about Ryan, she said he was civil but still distant when he picked up Melissa.
"Ryan loves you, Em. He will call you … or you should call him."
"Thanks, Lindsey, he probably needs space right now. Please keep in touch and let me know how things are going with you and Darren."
So much had happened between Ryan and me. I loved him, but now that Lindsey had agreed to divorce him, why hadn't he called? Now that he had his freedom, did he want to keep it?
Char called and insisted we get together for lunch. I had been so depressed, I eagerly accepted her invitation.
I answered the door in a pair of old pants, a T-shirt, and my hair pulled back. "I'm ready to go," I said. "Where did you want to eat?"
She stared at me and shook her head. "I don't think so. You are not going out looking like that!"
"Why does it matter? We're only going to lunch." Char was wearing a long skirt, short-sleeve shirt, and sandals.
She sneered at me. "Go change into something nice. It will make you feel better. And put on some makeup. You look like a zombie!"
"Fine!" I gave in. "Pour yourself a glass of wine while I go find some more appropriate clothes, Your Highness," I sarcastically joked.
Looking through my closet, I pulled out the dress I had worn to meet Ryan when we first met. I put it on and started to cry. Fuck it! I changed into my jeans, paired it with a long-sleeve blouse and, of course, my SJP heels. I combed my hair out and put on some lipstick and mascara. This would have to do.
"Better." Char smiled at me. "Let's go."
"Glad you approve," I replied, my voice oozing with sarcasm.
She pulled into the Dusty Boot.
"I would prefer we go somewhere else. This is where Ryan and I had our first date."
"Nonsense. Are you never going to come here again because of Ryan? You're being silly. Now let's go."
I was surprised at her insensitivity, but I suppose she was right. We were escorted to a table in the back of the restaurant, and Char immediately left for the ladies’ room.
I felt his hands on my shoulders as he bent down and whispered in my ear, "You are everything to me. I love you."
I couldn't turn around. The warmth of his hands, the sound of his voice as his breath tickled my neck, his words squeezing my heart made it hard for me to breathe. I remained silent and after a few moments, he let go of me and sat in the chair facing me.
"Say something, Em, please. You hold my happiness in your hands. Please say something."
"It's been over a week, why?" I asked.
"You left with Lindsey. I know I was angry, but we needed to talk. I thought you would come back, but you didn't. You and Lindsey, friends? It was a lot to take in. Lindsey’s confession, my guilt, everything. But you left. I thought you decided to run, to give up on us. I wouldn't have blamed you.
"Melissa wanted me to call you, but I couldn't. I was scared. I finally decided to call Charlotte. When I found out you've been waiting for me, I couldn't believe it. We wasted all this time wanting each other but neither one of us doing anything about it.
"Tell me you love me, and I promise I will never let fear or pride, yours or mine, stand in our way ever again!"
"I love you," I whispered.
Ryan scooped me up and carried me out to his truck. We went back to my house, back to our wall, back to where we belonged.
Epilogue
One Year Later
"Pull!" Randy shouted, and Bob released the clay pigeon.
John and Stan, Myla’s husband, stood at the grill, overseeing the steaks while Char, Myla, and I carried food to the table, chatting about our next boating excursion. I turned and waved to Darren and Lindsey as they relaxed by the pool, watching Stacy, Melissa, and Melony bat a beach ball back and forth.
Ryan walked up behind me and brushed my neck with sweet little butterfly kisses. "Happy Fourth of July, Mrs. Hayes. Is it time to eat yet?"
"Happy Fourth, Mr. Smith." I smiled, hugging myself inwardly while wrapped in my husband's arms.
The perfect man, the perfect day.