by Deb Lee
“No. I’m not diagnosing anything or dispensing medicine, and the magazine more than obliged funding the standard three-thousand-per-year stipend after an office petition went around adopting the idea. I wrote a few articles highlighting the outreach as more than just a community project. It was a local safe haven; it didn’t take long before word got out.”
“That really puts our outreach to shame,” Ryan chuckled, threading his fingers through hers. “We just do office tours and backpack drives. Are all your girls success stories?”
Sophie inhaled sharply. “No. Suzie didn’t make it.”
“Suzie?”
“She was our youngest at only eleven years old. She came to us a twig, and I was so far out of my element, the idea of even considering mentoring her was out of the question. But Charlie wouldn’t hear of that. She absolutely loved Suzie. And Suzie loved the 1950s café theme and even championed the fundraising for our vintage custard machine.”
“Sounds driven.”
“She was. She earned the unofficial title of café’s sweetheart. But unfortunately, only a month after the custard machine joined the family, she lost her battle with bulimia.”
“I’m so sorry.”
“I fear if the café closes, they won’t have anywhere to go.” Sophie hated feeling so helpless. She would do everything in her power to not let that happen.
Ryan grew quiet. Sophie felt his breathing and the soft tempo of his heart serenaded her through his chest.
“Soph?”
“Yeah?”
“Do you see yourself in those girls? Was that you? I mean is that how you lost so much . . .” He gulped. “I mean, your commonality with them. Does it have anything to do with this disease?”
Sophie stiffened at his question. She played with Santana’s mane, yesterday’s guilt budding in her gut. She nodded.
He kissed her hair. “It’s okay. We don’t have to talk about it. Just know I think what you’re doing is amazing and I want to help. I will help.”
She quietly kneaded her fingers around the coarse strands of Santana’s mane.
Ryan rested his cheek on top of her head. “Sophie?”
“Hmm?”
“Would you be willing to tell me something else, though?”
The budding guilt twisted into a knot that swelled in her stomach. It wasn’t what he asked, but the tone in which he asked. Shame from her stupid purge the day before made her want to crawl into a hole and disappear.
Something that she once used to gain control suddenly had its control over her. “Like what?” she asked hesitantly.
“It’s okay if you don’t want to talk about it, but I was wondering if you would be willing to tell me what happened?”
An unsettling angst flickered within. “What do you mean?”
“I mean ten years ago. I dropped you off at your grandma’s house and that was it. I barely heard from you again. What happened?”
Sophie bit her lip, not sure if the words would come. “I—I tried but then I saw you with—.” She paused. “You’re right I don’t want to talk about it.”
“Okay.” His understanding voice wasn’t fair. The truth was after her grandmother was in the hospital, Sophie couldn’t pull herself together to even so much as brush her teeth. She ate her pain away and turned into a sloth. Refusing Ryan’s calls was self-preservation. He couldn’t leave her if he couldn’t talk to her.
A week later, when her grandmother was released, she still couldn’t pull herself together enough to see Ryan. A few weeks after that, she forced herself to go to him because how do you call someone after weeks of nothing. And he had been so nice, leaving her incredible sweet voicemails. He’d understand. But then she found him at school, his arm was wrapped around Leggie Blonde.
Santana’s gait bounced her from side to side, making her suddenly nauseous. Confusion and anger and desire swirled within, making her dizzy, and her stomach heaved. Unable to stay upright a second more, she rested her head on the horse’s neck.
“Whoa,” Ryan commanded, pulling the reigns tight. “Do you need to stop? What’s the matter?”
“I’m dizzy.”
Ryan slid off Santana’s back and pulled Sophie into his arms. Though she felt secure, she also felt carsick. And sick with emotion.
Santana headed to a nearby patch of grass and began grazing. Ryan settled Sophie in his lap next to a eucalyptus with a wide trunk and sufficient shade. ”Talk to me, Sapphire.”
Oh, that name when it resonated from his lips. It lulled her into a relaxed state. What could she say? The last night they were together had transformed from the best night of her life to an unimaginable nightmare. Then he left her. And now here she was sitting in his lap. What was she thinking? She needed space. She was about to move, but then his soothing voice coaxed her into staying.
“Sophie?” He brushed her hair away from her ear and whispered. “You can trust me.”
A hot tear rolled down her cheek, and Ryan wiped it with his thumb. Trust him? A stab of fear pierced her through. How could she trust the person who catapulted her into a disease she was still clearly fighting? Why did she let him kiss her like that? She didn’t want to talk about their breakup, couldn’t stomach hearing that he finally realized she was just a story, so she veered to safer ground. Grandmoo’s accident.
“That night I found my grandmother on the ground unconscious and bleeding. She’d had a stroke.”
Sophie blinked rapidly, trying to hold back the burning tears that escaped. She couldn’t look at Ryan. So much about who she was today stemmed from that night. Some of it was good, sure, the girls and the café and meeting Amy. All of those were good, and they happened because of him. But the pain and the shame and the controlling manipulation all originated from him, too.
“Do you want to talk about it?”
Sophie watched Santana chomp on grass. The horse seemed methodical in her approach. She’d sniff the grass, rip a huge chunk of it from the ground, and chew. Then rinse and repeat. She didn’t have a care in the world. Sophie envied her.
“I slipped the key into the lock like always. Grandmoo always waited up for me, but when I checked the reading room, her sappy Silhouette title sat on the chair, and the room was dark.
“I went to the kitchen for a glass of milk. I needed to calm down. I felt bad about how we left things. I was going to call you as soon as I went to my room and apologize.” Sophie paused to catch her breath. Her heart picked up speed and the knot deep within her twisted, cautioning her brain to not go there.
Ryan squeezed her hand gently as if saying he would wait patiently for her to continue.
“The kitchen was still dark when I walked in, but something was off. It smelled like iron. When I stepped in warm thick liquid, I knew.” Sophie gulped hard.
“It’s okay, sweetheart” Ryan stroked her hair. “Take your time.”
Sophie appreciated his patience, but she needed to get this out. “Grandmoo hit her head on the counter top. There was blood. A lot of sticky blood all over. I screamed. I didn’t know what to do.” Hot tears slipped out, and her throat tightened making it hard to continue. “She was like my mom, you know? More than a mom.”
Ryan wrapped his arms around her like a warm, winter coat. He rocked her back and forth until her involuntary trembling slowed.
“I don’t remember calling 9-1-1, except I was suddenly on the phone, hysterical. It was an eternity of minutes before help arrived.”
The tears mercilessly streamed down her face. Sophie couldn’t understand why retelling this story hurt so much after all these years. She’d lived it, processed it. So why was she crying? She lay motionless, listening to the crackling of autumn leaves swirling just above the ground. Everything was quiet, save the cawing from seagulls in the distance. Ryan stroked her hair, and she felt a measure of ca
lmness run through her body as Ryan stroked her hair. Her hot face cooled as the breeze brushed against the dried tears on her cheeks.
“Grandmoo gave up everything to raise me. She worked at the state department in Sacramento. But rather than make me move to her, she relocated so I didn’t have to leave everything after I lost my parents. Then after her accident, she had to stop working for the county. I can’t help but harbor some of the guilt for making her change everything for me.”
“Soph, you cannot hold yourself responsible for a stroke. It was a terrible accident, but that’s exactly what it was. An accident.”
Sophie wiped her nose. “It was one of the hardest times in my life.”
“Why did you shut me out then?” Ryan whispered. “When you needed me. I could have held your hand through it.”
Sophie hung her head. Why did you use me for a story? Her skin prickled at the memory, so she pushed herself off his lap and walked to Santana. “I thought my grandmother was dying.”
Ryan stared at her for a moment before standing. He slowly stepped toward her but Sophie laid her head on Santana’s soft coat. “I could have helped you,” he said in a soothing tone.
“You would have left me if you saw me.” Actually, he did leave her. “I was a mess. It was pretty awful. School didn’t even matter. I ate my way through everything in the hospital cafeteria the week my Grandma was in ICU. And then I binged on Chinese takeout for the next several weeks at home.” Home had become an empty shell, void of warmth and comfort. Food filled that void.
“You didn’t give me a chance, Soph.”
Tears threatened, as her memory took her back to the shell of the girl she had been. “But I didn’t want you to see me like that.”
Ryan stepped around the horse and she could see that his expression remained a surly shade of confused. “Why not? Why not let me in?”
“Because I couldn’t let you see me like that. I couldn’t stand the sight of myself. And then when I finally built up the courage I saw you . . . you were with her.” Sophie didn’t mean for her voice to crack but the pain brewing inside fractured at the memory.
Ryan’s eyes pelted her with a quizzical look that almost made her think he didn’t know what she was talking about. “Sophie, I thought I’d hurt you that night we’d made love—like physically hurt you. I knew I was your first, and I just thought I’d done something unforgivable. Why else wouldn’t you return my calls?”
Sophie stared in disbelief. “I didn’t take them at first because I didn’t know what I wanted. I couldn’t stop crying or stop stuffing my face.” She threw her hands up and covered her eyes. “Oh, God, I can’t believe I’m telling you this.”
“Sophie,” his voice pleaded, “I would have been there, blotchy face and all.”
“I was so in love with you.” Her voice cracked and the tears flowed freely. “Every fiber in my core longed for you but you didn’t want me.”
“Sophie, I had no—”
“Don’t you dare say no idea. You knew. I know you knew. I just needed space for a few weeks. Yes, I screwed up, but I didn’t cheat on you.” Sophie dropped her hands, her gut wrenched. “I saw you with her, Ryan.”
“With who?”
“Amber Whitman! Leggie Blonde. Remember her? The acceptable girl you probably wasted no time jumping into bed with. The girl who was so mean to me. The one you had your arms around when I came to you to tell you about my grandmother.”
Ryan’s mouth clamped shut. His expression was pained. He closed his eyes and breathed heavily then skirted around the horse so he was next to her. Sophie refused to look at him.
“I meant to say I had no intention of leaving you. Not for Amber or anyone else.” His voice was calm and Sophie hated how much control he had. “I don’t know where you got your information from, Soph. But I did call you. A lot. You refused all of them. I went to your dorm room. I also checked your grandma’s home. But no one answered the door. I didn’t know what happened to you! I even emailed your school account.”
He seemed so genuine but that didn’t explain why he had his arm around Leggie Blonde or why he used her for a story. “Ryan.” She finally faced him and broke down. The forgotten tears, the ones she’d refused to shed back then welled up with more force than that blowhole. “I messed up. I did. But then I saw your arm around her and I got the message loud and clear.
Ryan’s eyes narrowed. He lunged into her space and though she backed up, he met her step for step. All that calm control dissipated. “That is not fair. You don’t get to play victim, Sophie. I’m sorry about what happened to your grandmother, but you’re wrong. That day you saw me with Amber had been when she twisted her ankle. I was helping her to the dorm. Which was where I was headed anyway to see you.”
Sophie was out of breath. Her throat felt like she’d swallowed needles and her head threatened to explode. If she had any food in her stomach she’d throw up. She had accepted the truth long ago. She had convinced herself he’d given up on her. Because she was just a story.
Sophie’s eyes stayed trained on his, trying to process his words.
“I went to see you a handful of times, but your roommate brushed me off and fed me lines like you were out with some guys and you were over us. She’s the one that told me to email you and she’d give you my messages.”
Sophie’s arms went limp. “Molly said that?” How many times did Molly tell her that Ryan was above her grade? She’d been so supportive with Grandmoo’s stroke. The wench! She had to know Sophie didn’t use the school email. “She told you I was out with other guys?”
Ryan ran both hands through his hair. “Yeah. She said you made it very clear you didn’t want to see me.”
Sophie’s eyes burned with fury. It all made sense now. Molly liked Ryan. Couldn’t understand that Ryan actually liked her.
The searing pain in her chest was doused by the truth. How could this have gone so wrong? And what about all those wasted years. Sophie’s voice was barely audible when she spoke. “I-I had no idea. I should have called you, but when I saw you with Amber . . . I just lost it. I refused to answer your calls after that.” I purged.
“But that’s just it, Sapphire.” Ryan’s voice hummed. “I figured after we made love you were upset, or at the very least repulsed by me for whatever reason. I wanted to tell you about my job offer in San Antonio. I had three weeks to report, covering the inside of the Cubs’ locker room. But when I couldn’t get to you, I had to make the decision. The opportunity was a once in a lifetime chance. I thought we could go together. Or at least talk about it. But I was a kid with a million-dollar opportunity I couldn’t pass up. So, I left you a final message and then I left right after graduation.”
Sophie shook and hugged herself. The tears wouldn’t stop. She wouldn’t have known. She stopped checking his voice mails.
He wrapped his arms around her. He was her cocoon and she was his butterfly.
She sobbed. She couldn’t help it. All those years of sticking her finger down her throat all because maybe, just maybe, she didn’t allow herself to be loved. Her parents had loved her, but they died. Her grandma loved her, but she almost died. Ryan said he loved her, but she’d seen him with another girl. Love was supposed to be effortless, but maybe she turned it into something unattainable.
Maybe she didn’t know how to let someone love her.
Sophie slowly arched back. Her hair stuck to her face, but she didn’t care.
Ryan wiped the strands from her cheeks and kissed her forehead.
“Do you want to head back?” His question was more of a suggestion. The clouds were rolling in and Sophie was exhausted.
“Yes.”
Ryan helped her on the horse, then led Santana to a boulder, which he used to mount her.
The start back to Tia’s was quiet, and for that, Sophie was gra
teful. Because there was still one more thing left unsaid. But she didn’t have the words. Did he even know she knew?
Her blinking slowed. It was the part she couldn’t manage to relive verbally. A month later, after everything was grandiose and antiplatelet medication coupled with the occasional aspirin kept Grandmoo on the mend, Sophie saw it.
The article.
That’s when she’d learned how to take control . . . by whatever means necessary.
Chapter 30
Ryan gently held Sophie’s hand. She’d leaned against him and he took that as the first step in rebuilding trust. She’d just unloaded a decade’s worth of pain. And he couldn’t help but regret that he’d played a destructive role in her life.
His chest felt heavy at the thought of leaving in a couple days, but that wasn’t his call. He was on assignment. A lot of people counted on him, and his promotion was days away. He needed to tell Sophie.
But Ryan was torn. He was here for work and needed to do what was in the best interest of the company that served him well for a decade, but another part of him—the much larger part—was in love with Sophie.
Ryan started at that realization. Yes, he had deep feelings for her. But this longing for her rattled in his core.
Santana’s gait rocked them from side to side and Ryan squeezed Sophie tighter between his arms to help steady her sway. “You okay?”
She nodded. “What are you thinking?”
About my promotion, he wanted to say, but couldn’t. Maybe he could ease the topic with some hard facts. “Did you know I spend about two hundred days a year traveling?”
Her upper body twisted and their eyes met. “Seriously?”
“Yeah. Crazy huh?”
She turned forward again. “That is crazy. And lonely.”
She had no idea. He was definitely ready to settle down. Up until now it had been all about chasing the game. He wouldn’t miss an inning or quarter. The chase was endless but his blog and articles were better because of it. “Yeah, many lonely nights.”